#JUST so no female heir could EVER happen again

[b-rainlet]

HOW can you introduce the Targaryens as a lizard commanding ubermensch power love triangle ready to conquer the world and never again entertain the idea of sibling polyamory!! GRRM had so many opportunities to outdo himself and write some fucked up sibling incest polycube full of jealousy, murder, deceit, manupilation and he MISSED. Smh i hope when f&b 2 comes out he will be enlightened and have good christian boy Baelor I keep his sisters locked up in the tower as his little depraved sex slaves ❤️ keep the repressed catholic guilt and monstrous depravities alive in this family tree

I can't make any super convincing points here because it's been way too long since I read any of the books, but I am pretty sure the Targaryens swore off of Polyamory to ensure that the Faith of the Seven would accept/endorse them as rulers of Westeros - since they're a pretty big deal and their support is immensely important.

So it was either that or get rid of the incest and since the Targaryens are Grrm's version of Nazis, they gotta ensure their blood remains pure and 'supreme'.

That aside, I do think a lot of them mourn the freedom of getting to marry several of their siblings - especially the Greens are a codependent bunch and would've loved being the poly incest monstrosity we know they are <3.

(Idk if Mother/Son incest was a thing with the Targs but Aegon is in mourning everyday because he can't have his mother be his second wife, he told me himself).

Me, googling Baelor Targaryen: Oh, okay, married to his sister but not interested in fucking her??? Deeply religious boy?? I can't really see why you would want to-

Me, finding out about the Maidenvault: Oh OKAY?????

What the fuck Baelor??? One of your sisters was eleven when you imprisoned her, what kinda lustful thoughts did she entice???

(Also deeply obsessed with Rhaena being the one sister to be the most perceptible to her Brother's sway, just saying👀👀👀)

[readychilledwine]

Pieces of You pt 4

Summary - After losing Feyre to childbirth, Rhysand finds himself leaning on one of her friends much more than he'd ever expected.

Warnings- Mourning, loss of a partner, loss of a friend, loss of parent, babies and the complications that come with raising them, slight neglect, slight angst to wrap it up before Fluff and smut begin, same editing warning (friend is arc reading, Liz will catch any other mistakes when she rereads this with fresh eyes)

A/n - I promised they wouldn't be a part long. What you're all waiting for will happen in the next part. 🫣

✨️ Series Masterlist ✨️ Rhysand Masterlist ✨️ Master Masterlist ✨️

This nanny was not you.

You had the left house, as promised, Monday morning. You hadn't taken a single dress Rhys had bought his Little Mor, a single one of her toys, you didn't even take the blanket he had paid for with her name stitched into soft buttery fabric.

He watched as Nyx fought the female he had hired. He would only latch to her for a few moments before wailing, piercing the now all too quiet home with his confusion and frustration. This nanny was not you, and Nyx clearly was not going to accept her.

He had hoped by the afternoon Nyx would have been hungry enough to just latch, to cave, but that was not the case. The young heir was crying again, frustrated and hungry as he slowly wore himself out into another unscheduled nap. Rhysand zoned out the noise, his mind now on you, on the second chance of love, devotion, happiness he allowed to walk out the door.

Nyx had taken to you. He was a momma’s boy the second he was about to show preference. But Morwenna, Morwenna was Rhysand's. His own breathing filled the void of silence that had fall over the house, and as he stared at his paperwork, tears began to fall, he just hoped your mind was on him, or at least Nyx, as well.

His mind went to his Little Mor, his sweet girl. Her eyes always lit up for him, shrieks of joy and excitement were common in Rhysand's office.

You sighed and sunk into the couch, Azriel beside you as you did. “Come home,” he had been begging for the past two hours for you to see reason, to forgive Rhysand. He had explained what happened at dinner, watching as you slowly fell apart all over again. “He didn't mean a single word. I can tell.”

Azriel swallowed before standing, “I will be back. Kiss my niece for me when she wakes up. I'll come back to sing her to sleep tonight.”

You shook your head, leaning back into the couch as you did. “It felt like he did, Azriel. It felt like he just-” you stopped yourself from crying, not willing to hurt over some male who so easily threw you away. “He said I needed to stop acting like Nyx's mom.” You watched Azriel's face fall. Watched as his sun-kissed tan skin paled. “Then tried to tell me I could not take Morwenna with me.”

Screaming. Screaming was all Azriel heard as he walked into the new Riverhouse. Rhys was pacing the floor, bouncing Nyx as the sun fell and Cassian stood there, eyes watering and wide in panic. He took a spot next to Cassian, sharing a look of concern with his brother. “He refuses to latch on to his nanny,” Cassian's voice cracked. “And Madja keeps trying to tell Rhysand it's just going to be an adjustment period, but Nyx is hungry.”

Azriel nodded, mind flashing back to the subtle looks of pain on your face as you so much as moved or held his Little Mor. “And he won't just suck up his pride and take him to y/n?”

Cassian sighed. “He said he can't do that after what he has done. That there is no fixing the hurt he caused.” Anger had leaked into Cassian's soft voice. “I do not get how she can do this to Nyx.”

“You would do it to if you mate ignored your bond.” The weight of those words hit Cassian's chest, screaming in his like an alarm. “What.”

“Y/n and Rhysand are mates,” Azriel went to Rhys, stroking Nyx's back. “Let me take him to her?”

Rhys shook his head, ignoring the tears falling at his son's frustration. “I just need him to adjust.”

“Starving is not adjusting, Rhysand. It is neglect.” The High Lord turned to Azriel, glaring hard. “I know what you said to her. Go there, apologize, and have her feed him at the very least. She loves him.”

As if it was a spell place to curse Rhysand, Nyx must have caught the faint scent of you lingering to Azriel's soft t shirt. The heir calmed significantly, reaching for the material. “Give me your shirt so I can lay him down and we can discuss this.”

Azriel obeyed, hoping just the scent of you would be enough to give him a small nap while Azriel convinced Rhysand to let him take Nyx to you. Just for the night.

Rhysand sighed, laying Nyx down with Azriel's shirt underneath him. He would have been lying if anyone asked him if he had savored that soft scent clinging to the shirt. He walked out of the room and hardly made it 5 steps before the wailing began again. Rhys pulled the bottle filled with the mixture Madja had made from his pocket world before going back in.

Nyx was inconsolable. He had spent the better portion of the morning crying, screaming, refusing to sleep.

Rhysand picked him up, praying to anyone who would listen and wishing on every star that Nyx would just take this bottle. As soon as he latched, Rhysand watched his flawless little face make a deeper scowl before pushing the bottle away. You were Nyx's sole thought. Your smell, your skin under his, your voice. The piercing wail had Azriel and Cassian running up the stairs as soon as they heard.

Rhysand knew Nyx didn't fully understand the noise about to come from his mouth. Nyx didn't know it expressed exactly what he wanted, nor what the sound would mean. He didn't know that it would make his father crawl back to you less than 12 hours after you had left. The heir released a strangled cry over and over again of one of the only sounds he knew to make, "Ma. Ma. Ma!”

"No," Rhysand choked down the tears that were getting ready to fall. "He's crying for y/n. He's crying for his mama.” Rhys didn't wait for them, he didn't even say goodbye, he winnowed into your living room. You were curled up on the couch, instantly awake by the sounds of Nyx's crying.

"Is he crying for Feyre?" Cassian went to take a tentative step forward, just for Rhysand to stand and move quickly out of the room.

Rhysand didn't even have to ask. He didn't have to beg. You took the heir instantly and pulled him to you, placing him in his favorite spot to eat.

His tears had triggered Morwenna, though, and soon her soft cries filled the air. Rhysand ran to her. He ran to his daughter and cradled her tight to his chest. Her bright eyes instantly looked up at him, a smile taking place of where a deep frown was. “Hi baby girl,” her giggle instantly changed his mood. He walked her to the living room, watching as she instantly because to smile and shriek at the sight of Nyx.

“Give him a little bit, baby,” you didn't even look up from the tiny illyrian, stroking his brow as he ate. “He is very hungry and mama needs him to eat.” Rhys sat across from you, holding Little Mor tight to him. “She's been making d noises all day. To me, to Azriel, to no one. Just “dah duh deh” all day.”

“She missed her daddy,” Rhys held her up, rocking her gently side to side, “didn't you Morwenna. You missed daddy? 13 hours apart is much too long, isn't it, my little darling.” You shook your head, fighting the smile as Wen giggled at Rhysand.

You felt your heart skip a best as he kissed her cheeks and then her tummy. Rhysand was a wonderful father, and watching him in this element, this area of self-doubt, he had made all feelings of anger melt away. He looked to you instantly, claws gently tapping on the fortress of your mind before you allowed him in. “Let me take us home?” Home, the word replayed in your mind before you nodded, holding a hand to him. Home sounded so good.

He winnowed you two back to the Riverhouse, making Wen giggle even more at the starlight that surrounded you four. You walked in and stopped dead in your tracks, eyes Azriel up and down. “Where are your clothes?”

Azriel looked shameless, muscled torso on display as he held Cassian in a headlock. “I'm choking out Cassian and your concern is my lack of a shirt?”

Cassian raised a hand to you, face slightly red. His eyes had a hint of guilt in them as he tapped Azriel's abs. “Y/n,” Cassian moved to guide you to the couch, smiling at a still latched Nyx and then moved Rhysand to be next you. “I want to apologize.” You knit your brows at him as he sat and Azriel glared.

“I made some unfair statements without consideration for you and Rhysand. I did not think about how my words would affect your relationship with each other, or how I cheapend the new mating bond you two share.”

Cassian looked raw. Like months of build up and emotion hit him. “We prepared you know? We knew she was going to die, we begged and prayed for a solution, and just when hope came it crashed like a tidal wave. Nesta and I won't even touch each other. The guilt-”

“You have nothing to be guilty for, Cass,” Rhys interrupted him. “I'm the one who had sex with her. I'm the one who-”

“It was an accident,” you spoke softly, pulling the focus to you. “Feyre's death was a tragic mistake and accident. You all did not know the extent of her shifting magic. You didn't know it temporarily changed her that deeply.”

Rhys seemed love drunk as he handed you Little Mor, kissing both babes before you walked away. He was silent until you left, eyes trailing your body. “Cassian, I love her.”

Rhys sobbed softly, hearing words from you many had whispered before felt so different. Like a soothing balm over a wound, slowly healing it. “Cassian, Nesta did not know that the outcome of her bargaining with a God would be a cruel trick. There's no guilt to be had. She gave everything back, made herself the Cauldron’s servant. She was too young to read those unspoken lines.” Nyx finally let go, deep asleep in your arms. “I'm going to go lay him down. There is nothing for me to forgive because you did not intentionally harm me, Cassian, but maybe you three should speak.”

“I know.”

“That doesn't mean I never loved Feyre. Nor that I've forgotten her.”

A second “I know” broke through Cassian's lips, his shoulders falling as it did. “I miss her.”

Rhys felt the tears welling, felt them falling before he could will them away. “I do too. Every fucking day I miss her. I miss her hair, her laugh, her voice. I miss her correcting me.” He watched Cassian fall more, mourning the sister he had lost openly for the first time.

“But when I'm with y/n, it hurts less. When I see y/n smile, I feel more whole again. When I hear her laugh, I feel like I'm alive again. When I see her with Nyx, when I see his smile when she's holding him or playing with them, I feel like Feyre is here, nudging me towards y/n.”

Azriel's voice came, soft and slow. “Feyre would want you to move on, Rhysand. She would have wanted you to find happiness. She would probably fight all of us for being this sad.”

The thought of that made Cassian genuinely smile. His eyes sparkling with fond memories of Feyre Cursebreaker stomping her feet when he'd beat her during a sparring match. “Her and Feyre both do this thing, maybe it's an artistic thing, where they look at things really close and back away slowly.”

Rhys started laughing immediately knowing what his brother meant. “Y/n did it with one of my outfits. She said I looked great as long as she stayed 5 feet away.”

Azriel put a hand on Cassian's shoulder. “This is a roundabout way of us telling you we support you, Rhysand. We support you and y/n.”

“Two mates,” Cassian said slowly. “Imagine having two mates, Az. Two females that you get to love unconditionally and annoy whenever you'd like.”

Rhys and Azriel shared a silent look, a soft, "Not yet” coming through to Rhysand's mind. “We will leave you and y/n alone to talk.”

“There won't be much talking,” Rhysand stood slowly. “I've always been better at expressing my emotions physically.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @chxosangxl @dreamlandreader

Pieces of You Taglist:

@dr4g0ngirl @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @blueeclipsepaperstudent @thisblogisaboutabook @mybestfriendmademe @novalovi @rachelnicolee @sleepylunarwolf @sidthedollface2 @acourtofbatboydreams @bunnyredgirl @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @demonicbusiness @blushingfawnsposts @bookishbroadwaybish @littlestw01f @miadialila @golden-canyon @fxckmiup

@batii-skies @emma-andrea1 @buckystevelove @slut4acotar @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris @awkardnerd @throneofshadows @sevikas-whore @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @why4anne @brieflyclassymortal @aspenger @nayaniasworld @nyxbranwenn

[lady-pug]

Written Between the Lines

Chapter IV - Where Lions Preen and Dragons Feast

Summary: Yours and Aemond’s relationship flourishes as you wait for your wedding to arrive. But when Jason Lannister steps out of line, insulting not only yourself, but also your mother and your future husband, you putting him back in his place elicits an interesting reaction from Aemond.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Word count: 4,8k

Warnings: canon-typical incest (uncle-niece); smut, so minors DNI; oral sex (female receiving); Aemond being pussydrunk; Jason Lannister being a major asshole; Aemond is a simp through and through (I plead my case)

Notes: Hello my dears, how have you been? I bring you the next chapter of this series (this is also my second time ever I writing smut so bear with me please, I apologize in advance)

Just to explain some things, Aemond and Reader call each other husband and wife in High Valyrian even though they are not married yet because apparently there is no word for betrothed, fiancé, bride, groom or anything similar in High Valyrian, so they call each other that (it’s meant to be more affectionate than a indication of their relationship status anyway)

Also, I again used an online translator (if someone spots any mistakes please let me know and I’ll correct it right away), translations are in the end notes.

Thank you so so much for reading, I hope you've enjoyed this story so far and that you enjoy this chapter!

Next chapter | Previous chapter | Masterlist | Read on AO3

Things had been calm, albeit quite hectic all the same, at least for a while. On the very same night after the spectacle that was the hearing over Driftmark, King Viserys had passed away in his sleep. Your mother, bless her soul, was with him when it happened, and promptly called for the maesters’ help but there was no longer anything they could do, leaving his body in the care of the silent sisters. Her coronation, reluctantly, happened on the very next morning. Rhaenyra wanted time to mourn her father, but an heir had no time to mourn a king, for the realm demanded a new one. Or, in this case, a queen.

In order to remind the lords of all the great houses of the oath they’d sworn to King Viserys almost twenty years before, Rhaenyra sent out every dragonrider to all corners of the Seven Kingdoms. Daemon flew to Riverrun; Jace paid the Lord Cregan Stark a visit; Baela, accompanied by Rhaena, was sent to the Vale; Aegon and Helaena took flight to Casterly Rock to negotiate with a promise of maintenance of Ser Tyland Lannister’s chair on the Queen’s Small Council and a future betrothal between Jaehaerys and Jason Lannister’s daughter, Cerelle; Luke headed to the Reach. 

You, on the other hand, were sent to speak with the Prince Qoren Nymeros Martell with a proposition to join the Seven Kingdoms under Targaryen rule, which he of course refused and practically laughed in your face. But you were nothing short of prepared, coming up with an alternative: should he recognize your mother as the Queen of Westeros, even if Dorne remained an independent kingdom, he could keep the Stepstones and incorporate it into Dornish territory. You’d even personally aid them with your dragon in driving away the Triarchy; the only catch was, after that, he’d have to maintain it of his own accord. If he was successful in keeping the Stepstones going forward, they were his to do what he pleased so long as he kept open commerce with the rest of the realm. He’d eventually caved in, an impressed smile adorning his features (and a proposition to warm your bed, which you politely turned down) as he agreed to your terms.

The only two great houses who gave any indication of trouble accepting your mother’s claim to the Iron Throne were Houses Baratheon and Greyjoy. Lord Borros Baratheon, although vexed at having to bend the knee to a woman, didn’t seem so bothered after negotiations with his cousin, the Princess Rhaenys, and a proposal to wed one of his daughters to the previous king’s youngest son, Daeron. Lord Dalton Greyjoy, on the other hand, was quick to bend the knee to Rhaenyra the moment he set his eyes on Vhagar flying above Pyke, the sheer size of her rumored to be bigger than the whole castle itself, and Aemond barely had to do any negotiations at all.

All of this, allied with the extensive gatherings of the Small Council (which Rhaenyra decided not to change most of its members for the time being, just rearranging their positions and reinstating Lord Corlys Velaryon as Master of Ships) meant yours and Aemond’s wedding got pushed back several weeks, if not moons, the last thing on anybody’s minds at the moment. The betrothal itself was only announced after the return of the last of the dragonriders to King’s Landing, almost a whole moon after the death of your grandsire. By then, the expected date for the birth of your mother’s and Daemon’s babe was approaching, and so it was decided to wait until after the babe was born so as to not cause Rhaenyra unnecessary stress that came with planning a whole wedding feast.

In the meantime, you and Aemond would spend every waking moment in each other’s presence; wherever one was, the other was never too far behind. Especially after your betrothal was formally announced the two of you could often be found walking together around the gardens, your hand tucked on the crook of his elbow, or breaking your fast together. Sometimes you’d be found reading together in the library or you’d watch him train on the balcony above the courtyard. Your handmaids often jested with you calling him your shadow, as he never strayed too far, almost like a lost little puppy. 

What the ever watching eyes of court didn’t see, however, was the way you’d often drag Aemond by the hand to some deep alcove away from everyone, or to the darkest hallway of in Maegor’s Holdfast, holding tightly onto the lapels of his leather doublet and crushing his lips to yours. Sometimes the kisses were unhurried, soft and gentle, everything you’d once dreamed of in your youth when your father, Ser Laenor, would tell stories of knights and princesses. Other times the kisses were fervent, passionate, his hands locked on tightly to your waist to stop them from wandering elsewhere. He’d been getting better the more you practiced together, more deliberate, sometimes catching you unguarded with a finger under your chin and a tilt of your head upwards, or a hand on your head and nimble fingers tangled in your hair. These stolen kisses, stolen moments, you shared had become the highlight of your days, and you suspected they were his too.

Almost two moons after her coronation you’d, regretfully, turned down your mother’s offer to spend some time with her in the middle of the morrow, promising to do so during the afternoon’s tea.

“You just want to gawk at your future husband training with a sword, don’t you?” she spoke, not even trying to hide the smirk hanging from her lips, much to your dismay. You felt the tips of your ears burning but didn’t try to deny it, for she knew you too well and could spot when you were lying.

Scurrying off to the courtyard you were pleasantly surprised to find it was practically devoid of the usual onlookers, not even the ladies of court were perched on their spot on the balcony, probably due to the gray and chilly weather that had briefly taken over the capitol. 

Only a few knights occupied the yard, engaged in heated training matches. On one corner Ser Erryk, who had been appointed by your mother as your sworn protector, sparred with his twin, Helaena’s sword and shield. Jace was also present, slaughtering a hay stuffed dummy with his sword; normally Daemon would supervise his and Luke’s (and your own, in secret) instruction, having picked up where Ser Harwin left off, but with the late stages of his wife’s pregnancy he chose not to venture too far from her side should she need his assistance. And Aemond, dedicated as ever, found himself in a match against Ser Jason Lannister, who had been briefly summoned away from Casterly Rock by his brother for some reason or another.

Emboldened by the lack of people who would possibly berate you or gossip behind your back about your ‘unladylike’ conduct (and considering you didn’t particularly care for the opinion of the likes of Jason Lannister) you decided to join the men in the courtyard, sitting down on some crates near where your betrothed was sparring, meaning to watch him from closer than usual.

Aemond was good. He was more than just good, he was phenomenal. He moved effortlessly, swiftly around the makeshift battlefield, embodying the first rule your father ever told you when he began to train you: ‘the sword is an extension of your arm’. He was one with the steel, moving with a graciousness that rivaled that of the greatest dancers. You could only imagine how many hours he had put into achieving such mastery, considering the incident had most likely completely changed his depth perception. Watching him fight, even as just a training exercise, winning match after match against Ser Jason, was doing funny things to your heart as it beat wildly in your chest, heat expanding from your cheeks and down to other places.  

The sun, partially hidden by gray clouds, was already high up in the sky when both men decided to call it a day. Aemond had already re-sheathed his sword and was making his way towards you when Ser Jason stopped him, trying to engage in some rather interesting conversation.

“My prince,” the man started, loud enough for you to hear, only getting an impatient hum in response “I hope not to take up too much of your time. I was just hoping you could maybe have a word with your grandsire.”

“What about?” Aemond’s eye barely flitted to the man in front of him, his gaze settling on you over Jason Lannnister’s shoulder as he talked his ears away.

“The changes in the Small Council.” he shrugged, as if it was the most trivial thing in the world “Lord Velaryon being named Master of Ships barely seems fair, especially with the state of his health.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, you see my prince, with a new reign just beginning I was hoping to be named Master of Coin.” he explained, finally gaining Aemond’s attention “But with the announcement of Lord Corlys for what was once my brother’s post, Tyland has now been appointed Master of Coin instead.”

You could see Aemond pursing his lips in thought, somewhat amused with the whole tirade Ser Jason was making.

“But you are the Lord of Casterly Rock, my lord. Shouldn’t that be enough for one man?”

“Ah, but to be granted a seat at the King’s Small Council is a great honor!” he kept on talking, not even noticing the slight jab aimed his way “Although the Queen’s Council just doesn’t have that nice of a ring to it.”

“Do you question your Queen’s decisions, my lord?” your betrothed asked, clearly meaning for Ser Jason to fall onto his trap and put his foot in his mouth. And oh, did he do it.

“I mean,” and that had you perking up on your seat “she hasn’t been known to always make the best decisions. My bet is she did this to appease Lord Velaryon about the death of his son. I simply don’t buy this tale of him being murdered by his squire. I am most sure she and that husband of hers had him killed so they could be together, she always had eyes for him in her younger years.”

He was speaking as if you weren’t even there, not noticing or simply not caring for your presence. You’d always known Jason Lannister was a fool, but you never took him for an idiot.

“She is a woman after all. They are more emotional creatures, thinking with their hearts rather than their brains.” he chuckled maliciously “Although a woman like Rhaenyra Targaryen probably thinks with her cunt more than anything.”

You were on your feet in an instant and even Aemond seemed surprised as the man started bad mouthing your mother, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, calling her every possible name under the sun.

“She would fuck any man who even glanced her way. Who knows who the father of all of her children even is? It might be one father for each offspring, we might never know.” Aemond’s expression got increasingly darker as the man talked about your brothers and you “The ones sired by her uncle are more likely to have purer Targaryen blood than the other three. What was she thinking, naming one of those counterfeits as heir?”

One moment you were watching the whole thing go down from afar and the next you were between the two men, holding Aemond back with both hands on his chest.

“You dare speak lowly of my betrothed, my future wife?! Your future queen?!” he tried lunging at Ser Jason but you stopped him, using all your strength to keep him from strangling the moron “I should have your tongue cut out and feed it to Vhagar, then feed her the rest of you along with it!”

“Aemond!” you held his face in your hands, firmly yet gently forcing him to look at you instead of the object of his ire “Ivestragī ziry jikagon, valzȳrys! Issa sepār mirrī vala, iksā sȳrkta than zirȳla.”

He exhaled sharply, nostrils flaring at the effort of calming down, until you eventually felt him nod curtly against your hands.

“Might I remind you, Ser Jason, that the one you speak ill of is none other than your Queen, the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, and that the last man who called her a whore lost his head for it at the hands of that husband of hers.” you spoke over your shoulder, throwing his words right back at him, smirking mockingly “And if my memory serves me well, Lord Lannister, you actually sent in a request to take her hand in marriage when she was younger, a request she herself rejected. So, by your own words, she would fuck any man who even glanced her way except for you.”

Aemond stared at you wide eyed, and you couldn’t decipher if his expression was one of indignation or awe. As for Ser Lannister, whereas any smart man would have stopped talking by now, Jason Lannister was no smart man, and it seemed his wounded ego and pride only fueled his loose lips.

“You hide behind a woman, my prince? I never took the One-Eyed Prince for a coward. What next, are you going to kneel at her feet and worship the ground she walks on?” he chuckled cruelly before mumbling under his breath, just loud enough for the both of you to hear “Maimed freak.”   

The ringing in your ears and the way your name fell off of Aemond’s lips in a warning tone were the only indication of your next moves, and the next moment you found your hand wrapped around the handle of his sword. He couldn’t react fast enough, for you had already unsheathed his sword and turned, the tip of the blade pointing at Ser Jason’s neck. 

“How about you kneel?” you hissed at him, noticing the other two knights and your brother intending to move forward and intervene, but they stopped with a gesture of your head.

The sword was longer, heavier than you were used to, but it would do. You held the Lannister’s stare daring him to move. He, in turn, unsheathed his own sword, clashing it against yours and proceeded to try to attack you. 

One lesson Ser Harwin had taught you that had stuck with you for the rest of your life was that most of the knights in the realm were physically stronger than you. It was a given fact. But you were faster, more agile, not wearing several pounds in steel armor that slowed you down meaning you were light on your feet in turn.

“The realm isn’t a nice place for ladies such as yourself, princess.” you remember him saying, a wink thrown your way “The world will not play fair, so you must use every advantage you are given.”

So you waited, dodging Ser Jason’s every blow. You waited for a moment, for just one small falter on his part. It didn’t take long; he was angry, humiliated even, and thus he was reckless, giving you a large window of opportunity to strike. In an instant, while his arm was pulled back way above his head to strike down at you, you twisted your wrist, hitting him square on the nose with the pommel of your sword. He tumbled to the ground, one hand clutching his now bleeding nose and the other blindly feeling around for his sword, which had fallen out of his hand during the fall.

“Yield.” you pointed Aemond’s sword at his neck once more “Yield and those present might just be merciful and overlook your transgressions, forget your treason.”

Both Ser Erryk and Ser Arryk had their hands placed on their own swords, prepared to defend you at a moment’s notice and arrest the treacherous lord should you just say the word. Jace, on the other hand, looked like he was trying his hardest not to burst out laughing at the situation, a strained smile painting his face.

“Why don’t you control your wife?!” Ser Jason spat at Aemond, gurgling on his own dripping blood as it ran down his face.

“She is not yet my wife. And besides,” Aemond smirked playfully at you, despite you not being able to see him “no one can control her.”

Seeing as he was vastly outnumbered, Ser Jason couldn’t see any other option than to accept defeat, raising his hands. Once you were sure he wouldn’t try anything funny again you turned back around, giving Aemond back his sword before stalking off, fuming at the man’s audacity.

You didn’t get very far, however, feeling a large warm hand wrapping around your wrist. You turned around, ready to give whoever it was a piece of your mind, but you faltered once you realized it was Aemond who had reached out to you. His expression was firm, determined, as he started dragging you by the wrist, finding one of the secret doors that lead to the hidden tunnels in the Keep and pulling you behind him with a steadfastness similar to the one he held himself with on the training yard.

“Aemond?” you asked while he pulled you deeper and deeper into the secret passages “I’m sorry.”

You feared you might have offended him. When you started approaching the age suitable for marriage, your mother had sat you down to explain what you should expect and to prepare you for what was to come. She told you most lords expected their wives to be proper, never speak out of turn and bend to their every whim with a head bowed. You replied, indignantly, that what they wanted then was a servant they could sire children with, something that prompted a full belly laugh from Daemon who had been standing closeby. You were worried that, by putting Ser Jason Lannister back in his place for insulting not only yourself and your mother, the Queen, but also your future husband, your actions reflected poorly on Aemond himself.

He only stopped walking when you were very far into the tunnels, turning you around and pushing your back against one of the stone columns. He was standing so close to you, staring at you so intently, you couldn’t help but swallow nervously.

“Please, uncle, forgive me! I do not know what came over me, he started insulting you and I just-”

The force with which he crashed his lips against yours was so intense it almost sent you tumbling backwards; your head would have surely been slammed against the wall behind you were it not for his hand gently cradling the back of it to prevent you from hurting yourself. He kissed you fiercely, and by the Gods, had he gotten good at it. His tongue moved against your own with rapid movements, his fingers tangling in your hair and tugging, electing a small breathy whimper out of you, to which he hummed in return, nipping at your bottom lip. He shoved one leg in between yours, keeping them apart, crowding you even further against the wall as his slender fingers pulled at your hair again to tilt your head to the side, allowing his lips to trail a path down your neck to the junction of your shoulder.

“Ñuha nēdenka zaldrīzes,” he groaned against your neck, nibbling softly at the skin “ñuha zaldrītsos mīsagon nyke hen mirrī kēlio.”

Arousal pooled in your core at his words, not even realizing your hips had started mindlessly moving back and forth against his thigh. It was over all too soon, however, as he took a step back from you, to which you whined at the loss of contact. But what he did next surprised you even more.

Aemond sank to his knees in front of you, his hands caressing from your hips to the back of your thighs. 

“W-what are you doing?” you asked breathlessly.

“Proving some of Jason fucking Lannister’s words right.”

It dawned on you then what he meant, as he started bunching up your skirts.

“Are you going to kneel at her feet and worship the ground she walks on?”

“Hold these for me?” he asked softly, holding the front of your dress bunched up against your navel, and the way he was looking up at you with so much adoration almost broke your heart.

“Aemond, I told you, we can’t-”

“Fear not, ābrazȳrys, this will not break your virtue.” he mentioned, hoisting one of your legs bend over his shoulder.

He spoke with so much conviction you wanted to believe him.

“And how do you know that?”

“Aegon may have mentioned something of the sorts.” he said casually.

“Are we trusting what Aegon says now?” you asked, exasperation dripping from your voice.

“My brother may be an idiot, but his expertise lies in two places:” he explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world “his wines and the pleasures of the flesh.”

Your laughter echoed in the empty halls.

“Aegon does not strike me as the type to know how to please a woman.”

“I said he knows the pleasures of the flesh, not necessarily how to do it right.” he chuckled along, before his expression turned serious once again. He turned his head slightly, laying a kiss on the side of your knee “But if you really don’t feel comfortable, we can simply forget this ever happened and just wait for our wedding night.”

You pondered for a moment, not wanting for this moment with him to end. You were rather quickly realizing that there wasn’t much you wouldn’t do for him, and that thought brought a light fluttery feeling to your stomach.

“No no, I trust you.” you smiled reassuringly at him “If Aegon says it is fine, then I trust your judgment.”

“Good.” he inched closer to your core, pushing your smallclothes to the side “But please, stop talking about my brother. His name is not the one I want to hear coming out of your mouth while I feast on your cunt.”

As he was about to dive in, a hand holding onto his locks prevented him from doing so just yet.

“Would you rather I chanted Daeron’s name instead?” you jested, giggling at the annoyance that took over his features.

“I​​ksā iā ōdres.” he pinched the skin on the back of your thigh where his hand was resting, his other hand snaked around your leg perched over his shoulder, helping to keep you balanced “Ñuha brōzi kessa sagon se mērī mēre ao hīghagon.”

“I mean, you did agree to marry-” your jesting was interrupted by a soft moan that left your parted lips, the feeling of his tongue licking a broad stripe between your folds catching you off guard.

Never in your entire life had you felt anything like it. A tingling feeling spread across your entire being, starting from where his lips and his tongue were diligently moving against your soaked slit. He worked smoothly against you, alternating between gentle strokes of his tongue over your entrance and soft kitten licks on your little bundle of nerves on the apex between your thighs.

“A-Aem…-” you tried uttering his name, now completely lost to the blissful sensations he was eliciting out of you, your fingers knotting on his hair and pulling hard.

And then something in him changed. Like a switch had been flipped in his mind, his grip tightening on your thighs as he started devouring your cunt with renewed vigor with a groan, its vibrations against your skin sending your toes curling from unbridled pleasure. You couldn’t fathom what could have possibly caused it, if it was the way you tightened your hold on his silver strands, the breathiness in your voice or, as you’d later be reminded, the accidental use of a long forgotten sobriquet you hadn’t given a second thought to in several years. 

Aemond feasted upon you like a man on a mission, desperately leaving open mouthed kisses and broad licks against you cunt like he was starved. It felt like he wanted to memorize the very taste of you should he perish tomorrow, pulling moan after moan from you. Had anyone been venturing these tunnels, they could have surely guessed what was happening, the wet noise of his mouth against your cunt and the way you weren’t even trying to muffle your cries of his name giving it away. 

The way his tongue worked in vigorous movements, swirling swiftly around your clit and then down to your entrance again, had you shoving his head even closer to you, canting your hips against his face. The motion caused his sharp nose to bump against your clit, prompting a sharp whine to tumble from your lips.

You couldn’t help rocking your hips against his lips, feeling something warm and almost tangible, like liquid fire, steadily pooling in your core. You felt the pressure of it mounting higher and higher, like a coil threatening to snap, streams of pleasure climbing up your spine and turning your mind into mush. Your thoughts were hazy, like a fog had taken over your thoughts, and you could barely register that Aemond was murmuring something on your skin, but what you couldn’t tell. 

Opening your eyes again, for you haven’t even realized they had fallen closed, you stared down at him in between your legs. He looked ethereal, his eye closed as he savored you, some strands of his normally neatly groomed hair messy from where your fingers had pulled. You wanted to see him, for him to gaze up at you, so you grasped his fingers which lay upon your thigh and gave them a little squeeze. His eye fluttered open almost lazily, violet hue half-lidded as he stared up at you. For just a single moment, your traitorous mind was reminded of Aegon, for Aemond looked like he was honestly drunk on your dripping cunt, like it was the finest of Dornish reds he had ever tasted, expression fogged up as if his mind was far away. The small pang of guilt you felt at the comparison was quickly replaced by blinding pleasure as he, upon you smiling down at him with quivering lips, wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked sharply.

Then that coil snapped, your head thrown back in ecstasy. That liquid warmth spread over your body like a tidal wave as your muscles trembled, and had he not been holding you up you’d have surely dropped to the ground, consuming every part of you and leaving a pleasantly tingly feeling in its wake. He switched back to gentler motions as you rode out your high, eventually coming to a halt when you finally stopped twitching. He dropped your leg and climbed to his feet, a glazed sheen against his chin and lips as they found yours, the tangy taste of your cunt invading your senses as he kissed you softly, so very different from just moments ago.

Aemond pulled back, resting his forehead against your own, both of your breathing hard against each other’s mouths.

 “I’d get on my knees every day if you asked it of me.” he mumbled.

Your heart fluttered at his words, clenching in your chest. 

As he embraced you, you couldn’t help but notice the bulge that had formed in his trousers, but as your hand started to untie its laces, he stopped you, intertwining your fingers together.

“Later.” he whispered, laying a soft peck on your lips “I wanted to do this for you.”

“Let me assist you, like you have done for me.” you pleaded, voice a bit hoarse from how loudly you had been chanting his name in pleasure.

“Tis’ but a small inconvenience. I will take care of it by myself later.”

You pulled back only slightly in his arms to look down between the two of you and couldn’t help but jest.

“It seems like quite a large inconvenience if you ask me.” you smirked.

Aemond stared at you, expression blank, for but a beat before bursting out laughing, and you decided right then and there, in his arms, that it was your favorite sound in the whole world. You’d get on dragonback and watch all of Westeros succumb to dragon fire if it meant he’d never stop laughing. You could only hope on bated breath your wedding arrived sooner rather than later, for you couldn't wait to spend the rest of your life with him.

High Valyrian translations: - ivestragī ziry jikagon, valzȳrys - let it go, husband - issa sepār mirrī vala, iksā sȳrkta than zirȳla - he is just a little man, you are better than him (meant as in ‘it isn’t worth it’) - ñuha nēdenka zaldrīzes - my fierce dragon - ñuha zaldrītsos mīsagon nyke hen mirrī kēlio - my little dragon defending me from a little lion (‘little dragon’ meant affectionately while ‘little lion’ is meant with condescension) - ābrazȳrys - wife - iksā iā ōdres - you are a pain (meant as in ‘you are a menace’) - ñuha brōzi kessa sagon se mērī mēre ao hīghagon - my name will be the only one you scream

Tag List:

@callsignwidow

@sleephereicome

@bitchassgoose

@voguiing

@dibutw

@fruityvampslayer

[redrose10]

Chapter 11! Thank you for all the comments and messages. It is appreciated! I love hearing everyone’s theories.

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 2,815

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

Tag List: @gimeow @kam9404 @baechugff @gaby-93 @kayleefriedchicken @igot7fairlyoddparents @jalexad @drrookie

You swung open the door unaware of the information that had just been disclosed., “Alright guys, I got some pork and beef and a few different sides. I hope that’s enough. It smelled amazing in there so I think this will be good.”, you said closing the door behind you after returning from the restaurant. When you turned around you could tell the atmosphere felt different than what it was when you left. Yoongi was staring off into space while fidgeting with the hem of his tshirt and Jin seemed very jittery as well. You started unloading the food onto the table which Jin graciously thanked you for getting. He ate so quickly you were afraid he was going to choke. Yoongi on the other hand wouldn’t touch the food. Even when you grabbed the chopsticks and tried to feed him he shook his head and refused to eat.

“I’m going to go make a couple phone calls and see if we can get this all finally cleared up.”, Jin said before wiping his mouth with a napkin and walking out the door.

“So anything new happen while I was gone?”, you asked taking a bite of the food.

Yoongi felt the room spin again making him feel sick. All he could do was shake his head.

“Hey are you okay?”, you asked concerned with how much his demeanor had changed since you left. He gave you a tight lipped smile and nodded. You continued to eat in silence sneaking little peaks of him while he sat there picking at the skin on his thumb.

Eventually Jin came walking back in and sat down with a smile, “So as mentioned earlier the police are willing to cooperate with the cash payment and be forced to drop all charges against Yoongi. Now as far as Suri and Hwan are concerned they are willing to just drop everything as well as long as Y/N agrees to not press charges against Hwan for what happened at the auction.”

You pondered your options for a moment. You looked Yoongi over and noticed how pale he looked. The circles under his eyes somehow looked darker than they were when you left. You could only imagine how you looked. You were both exhausted physically and emotionally and just wanted to go home. You were also smart enough to know that Suri must have bigger plans and this was just some kind of a distraction or something.” As much as I’d hate to see that creep walk free I’m at the point where I just don’t want to talk about it any more and I just want it to be over with. So if that’s what gets us out of here then that’s fine but make sure he knows how much of a low life he is and if he ever comes anywhere near me or Yoongi again I promise that I won’t be so generous.”

Jin lightly chuckled and nodded, “I’ll let them know. I’m sorry that it came to this Y/N. I’m going to have Jimin give you a ride home as it’ll still probably be a couple hours for everything to get cleared with Yoongi, you know paperwork and boring stuff.”

You looked over at Yoongi to make sure he was going to be okay but he wouldn’t even look at you.

“Yoongi do you want me to stay? I really don’t mind.”, you asked secretly hoping he would say yes.

“You should go back to Jimin’s.”, was all he responded with his eyes still trained on a crack in the wall.

“Alright well call me if you need anything.”, you said to both of them but mostly Yoongi. Jin opened up the door for you with a smile and pointed to where Jimin was waiting down the hall so you could make your way there. After he made sure you found what you were looking for he turned his attention back to Yoongi.

“Look you have to keep it together. Y/N is smart. She’s going to know something is wrong right away if you keep acting like you’re on another planet.”

“What did Suri say?”

“She’s willing to give you one month to figure something out. After that she’s going to the media to announce she’s pregnant with your child and that you’ve completely abandoned.”

Yoongi scoffed, “I didn’t abandon her. She never even told me she was pregnant.”

“Yoongi are you sure you are the father? I mean is it possible that she’s lying? You did say you haven’t slept with her in a while. Does the timeline match up?”

“I mean we always used protection but you know things can happen. She’s an evil desperate woman so of course she could be lying as well. I don’t know any more. How far along is she?”

“Well according to this ultrasound it appears that she’s about twelve weeks at this point.”

Yoongi took a deep breath and groaned.

“So I’m guessing that means the baby could be yours.”, Jin wondered out loud.

“The last time was probably about twelve weeks ago. I don’t really remember at this point. Jin what am I going to do? I don’t want to loose Y/N. Not now. I was just starting to make some progress on getting her to give me a chance and I was really trying to earn her forgiveness. This is going to mess everything up.”

Jin chuckled, “Look I’m going to tell you this not as your lawyer not as a business partner but as your friend because I think you need a strong dose of reality. You have no one to blame for this mess but yourself. The day we met Y/N I told you to give her a chance. I told you she seemed like a sweet genuine person who would treat you right and be everything you needed. But did you listen? NoooOOOoo! You’re Min Yoongi and no woman is ever going to tie you down again all because one woman broke your heart years ago. You always have to prove that you’re unbreakable. You’ve continually broke Y/N’s heart over and over and she still looks at you with compassion and love. She still worries about you even though you don’t deserve any of it. Now it’s time for you to grow up and face your consequences and you should hope and pray that this baby isn’t yours and that Y/N will still be understanding once it’s all said and done. But for now let’s just keep this information between us. Hopefully we can somehow convince Suri to have a prenatal DNA test done and if we’re lucky the baby isn’t yours and Y/N will never have to know.”

“And if the baby is mine?”, Yoongi asked already fearing the answer.

Jin scoffed, “Well then let me be the first to congratulate you Min Yoongi. My gift will be in the mail.”

Jin packed up his briefcase, “I’m gonna do a final check and make sure you’re good to go. I’ll call you in the morning. Go home and try to get some sleep. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Yoongi watched as Jin’s broad shoulders made their way through the door. Not long after one of the officers came by and told him he was free to go so he grabbed his jacket and phone and went outside where a car was already waiting for him.

Just as he was about to get in the vehicle he heard the sound of heels hitting concrete and then someone spoke making his skin crawl and his ears burn.

“I told you that it wouldn’t be that easy to get rid of me.”

Yoongi groaned and turned around, “Really Suri? This is what you’ve come down to? You are a disgusting vile person.”

“Well if it isn’t the pot calling the kettle black. You’re no Prince Charming yourself Yoongi. I don’t remember you calling me vile when you were begging me not to stop as I was riding you in your bed while Y/N was in other room asleep or the time I was hiding underneath your office desk with your dick still in my mouth because Y/N came to surprise you with a lunch she made. You are just as vile as me, if not worse. I believe the word that Y/N used was despicable.”

“How do you know about that?”, he looked at her through narrow eyes.

“I have my ways Yoongi. I know a lot more than you think.”

“Fuck off Suri.”

“Is that any way to talk to the mother of your unborn child? Is that how you’d talk to Y/N if she was pregnant with your baby?”

Yoongi stared at her with disgust as a car pulled up behind her. She swung open the back door before turning to him, “You have 30 days Yoongi. 30 days to figure this all out or I go to the media and tell them about our soon to be little family.”

The car sped off leaving him to stand and stare before his own driver got out and asked if he was okay. Yoongi nodded and got in the backseat.

The next morning you woke up feeling exhausted and sore. Your headache was so bad that you even made some coffee hoping the caffeine would do the trick. Jimin was still asleep and you were glad for the silence. Checking your phone you found nothing exciting just a message from Yoongi letting you know he was home and to call him when you got up. You went to hit his contact when you remembered another important call you had to make. Scrolling through your phone you found the name you were looking for and clicked dial. It went to voicemail. You tried again but right to voicemail. Finally you just decided on a text.

You: Hey Namjoon, just wanted to check in and see how you were doing. I was shocked to see you at the police station last night. Just wondering what that was all about. Give me a call when you can!

You tossed the phone down on your bed as you had a feeling you wouldn’t be getting a response any time soon. You decided to take a shower and get ready before giving Yoongi a call. Once you finally dialed his number he picked up on just the second ring.

“Good morning Y/N, how are you feeling today?”

“Alright I guess. How are doing?”

“Not bad.”

There was a long silence before he continued,

“So umm Y/N, I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner tonight. I have something I wanted to tell you.”

“Oh yeah sure. What time were you thinking?”

“About 6:00 if that works for you? That way we can eat and talk about some things and then you’ll be able to get back to Jimin’s before it gets too late.”

“Actually Yoongi, I was wondering if maybe I could move back in with you?”

Yoongi felt his heart skip a beat, “It’s up to you Y/N. This is your home too so you’re welcome back any time.”

“Okay great! I’ll see you later Yoongi.”

“Bye Y/N.”

Yoongi tried to fake a smile as he said goodbye. He never thought you’d ever want to willing move back to the home you shared. Unfortunately he knew that once he told you his news, you wouldn’t want to stay in the same room with him let alone live in the same home together.

Yoongi paced back and forth around the kitchen. He had tried to busy his mind all day by cooking an intricate dish he thought you’d like. He fixed his tie for probably the twentieth time. Was he too dressed up? Maybe he should’ve just went with jeans and T-shirt like he originally planned. He knew he put on a little too much cologne especially considering the history the two of you had with it. He took a peak at the clock to see if he had enough time to shower and change again when panic set in. It was twenty minutes after six and you were late. You were never late. He began running through every possible scenario.

What if you changed your mind? What if you found out about the baby before he could tell you? Oh my god what if Suri hired a group of assassins to find you and…?”

Before his mind could finish the thought he heard the door click open. Quickly he ran over breathing a sigh of relief as he found you taking off your jacket and hanging it on the rack. “Hi, Sorry I’m late. I stopped at that new bakery to get us some desserts and I think half of Seoul also had the same idea.,” you chuckled handing him the box of various pastries you had picked up. He noticed your bag sitting by the door causing his chest to ache. You really were prepared to move back in and he was going to chase you away again.

Once back in the kitchen he set the box down on the counter and went to ask you what drink you’d like when you surprised him by wrapping your arms around his torso squeezing him tight. You took a deep breath to inhale the familiar cinnamon and vanilla scent. A little stronger than usual but you had to admit that you kind of missed it in a weird messed up way.

“Hey are you okay?”, Yoongi asked concerned when you didn’t pull away.

“Yeah the last few weeks have just been a lot.”, you mumbled into his chest. He squeezed you a little tighter knowing that this was probably going to be the last hug he’ll ever get from you.

Once you pulled away with slightly blushed cheeks he invited you to take a seat at the table while he brought the food over.

Yoongi picked at as much of his food as he could stomach but he just tried to enjoy the moment with you knowing that as soon as he started talking things were going to take a turn for the worst. Even though Jin was adamant to not let you find out about the pregnancy right now, Yoongi didn’t want to hide anything from you any more. He barely slept all night, instead tossing and turning weighing his options but ultimately decided that it was best for you to find out from him personally instead of later on or god forbid from someone else entirely because he had no idea who else knew about his situation at this point.

“Hey are you okay? You seem really out of it?”, you asked pulling Yoongi from his thoughts. He nodded with a tight lip smile.

“You said you had something you wanted to talk about. Is that where your brain has been?”

Yoongi set his chopsticks down and took a big breath trying to calm his nerves. You noticed the slight shake to his hands which made your insides churn because this couldn’t be good news.

“Yoongi whatever it is just tell me. At this point there’s not much that will shock me.”

He chuckled to himself because you had no idea.

“Y/N, I don’t really know how to tell you this so I’m just going to come out and say it but I uh I might have gotten Su-“

Before he could finish your phone began to ring. The contact showing as Namjoon.

“I’m so sorry Yoongi but it’s Namjoon and I’m worried if I don’t answer it I won’t get in contact with him again. I want to find out why he was at the police station last night.”

Yoongi nodded and you picked up the phone greeting Namjoon a little more friendly than you probably should have. He couldn’t hear what was being said on Namjoon’s end but you seemed to get more and more upset the longer you were on the phone with him.

“Well yeah Namjoon I was just wondering why you were at the police station. It seemed a little suspicious given who you were with.”

*Silence*

“How did you meet her?”

*Silence*

“Mmhm and how long has that been going on?”

*Silence*

“Are you fucking kidding me? What do you mean Suri is pregnant?”

You glared over at Yoongi and he felt his stomach drop. Looks like the news was already broken to you.

“Okay text me the address. We’re on our way.”

You slammed your phone down on the table so hard you’re pretty sure you cracked the screen.

“That’s it. I’m gonna kill her. I can’t do it any more. She’s lucky she’s pregnant or I would go over there right now and strangle her myself.”you said pacing back and forth.

Yoongi looked at you wide eyed. He’d never seen you act like this and he was torn between being scared, being nervous, and also kind of liking it in a way.

You turned your attention back to Yoongi making him jump a little, “Come on Yoongi. We’re going to meet Namjoon at his sisters house. He said he has some important stuff to tell us about Suri and how he ended up getting her pregnant.”

[fieldofdaisiies]

Of Wings and Secrecy

paring: adult!Nyx x Reader | type: angst | words: 3,4k words | warnings: mentions of abuse, violence | based on this request

“What a weak punch.” 

You throw Nyx a withering glare over your shoulder, hands dropping to your sides. You really have to fight the urge to flip him off, and at the same time want nothing more than to kiss those formidable lips.

“Shall I demonstrate how it should be done?” His wings flare behind his back when he starts to stroll toward you, sauntering with nothing but cocky smugness, a grin on his lips.

Your little sister, Salia, next to you giggles, a mischievous smile on her lips. “I guess I‘ll leave you two alone then.”

She winks and before you can stop her, she is heading towards where Emerie, Gwyn and Nesta, Nyx‘s aunts, train a few young Illyrian females.

Salia is the only one to know about what is actually between the two of you — a bond, a mating bond, always glamoured to keep it hidden. But she knows about the mutual love, how and when the bond snapped, about your secret meetings and the dangers along with it. The dangers that prevent you from—

Your thoughts are cut off when you feel the hard and warm press of a solid chest against your back. 

“A little higher.” His hands support your elbows, his lips brushing your earlobe. You fight against a shudder, and hold your breath. 

“Not here.” Your voice is silent, hushed. “Someone could see us.”

“I’m only helping you train, my star.” A smirk appears on Nyx’s lips, but falters the moment he sees your scared expression after you have turned to him. The Night Court heir steps away, and bows his head. 

You open your mental shields for him, holding his gaze. I’m so sorry, but it‘s too dangerous, Nyx.

Making sure no one is looking, Nyx moves in again, lifting your elbow with one of his warm and gentle hands, acting like he is explaining something. “Let me protect you.” He leans in the slightest bit. “Come to Velaris with me. Let me protect you.”

You turn away and pick up a sword. “You know I can‘t.” Straightening your posture and using one hand to smooth out your leathers you take a few steps back. “I can‘t leave my mother and sister alone.”

Nyx knows this, and yet the truth —the awareness about you not coming with him— sends a pang of hurt right into his heart. Your hearts belong together, so do your souls, and should never be kept apart. You had fallen in love with each other the first moment you lay eyes on each other. But life isn’t too kind to you, doesn’t allow your love to flourish.

Devlon forbids this relationship, threatens to hurt the once you love most. It has to be kept secret. Nyx promised you that with his father’s protection —with the High Lord’s protection — nothing would ever happen to you. And despite that sounding very promising, you couldn’t accept.

This is not solely about you. You have a sister and a mother who live here as well and they will be in danger. Especially if you go with Nyx or if your relationship —if the bond— becomes public.

Nyx moves in closer again, helping you position your legs a little differently. “I want to be alone with you.”

“Nyx.” A corner of your mouth tips up.

He raises a brow, twin flames of desire lighting up his blue eyes. “My late grandmother‘s hut?”

“Now?”

Nyx grins and turns you, so your back is against his front, always careful of your beautiful wings, acting like he is showing you some self-defence techniques. “Always.”

His body vibrates with passion, and it reaches you, fuels the need within your veins. You have been apart for so long. You have missed him. And you need him. Now.

—-

A loud giggle parts your lips and you shove at Nyx‘s bare, and solid chest. “I‘m sure I love you more.”

He kisses your shoulder and shakes his head. “Not possible.” His damp lips coast over your salty skin, tongue poking out. “My love for you is endless.”

“Well,” you breathe, “mine is endless and just a bit more.” 

He tips his head up, gaze meeting yours and laughs. “You are impossible.”

To that you grin and chuckle. Your hand comes up and you stroke your thumb over his cheek, slowly, assessing him with your eyes. “You look tired,” you say with a contemplative look on your face.

“We‘ve been tangled in the sheets for the whole night, my star, I am exhausted.” The beautiful smile on his lips doesn’t reach his eyes and the corners of your mouth turn downwards. 

“It’s because the glamour, isn’t it.”

He doesn’t want to say yes, but you can read him so well, so he silently admits, “I constantly need to use a lot of magic to glamour the both of us, and over a far distance when I am back in Velaris.”

You find yourself nodding, your heart hurting about the knowledge of what it does to him.

“But it’s fine.” He kisses your nose. “As long as the two of us have a chance to be with each other, I would accept everything.” Now, he kisses the corner of your mouth, hands falling to your hips, pulling you closer, the counter below your bare thighs, cool.

“I don’t want you to—”

He shuts you up with a kiss. But it is a kiss you can’t really focus on. You love him, you want to be with him — Cauldron he is your mate! But that doesn’t make this relationship easy. It only makes it hella difficult. 

Nyx is a bit over 100, sooner or later he will have to take over as High Lord, you don’t want to cause him additional issues.

“You are distracted, my star.” His hand slides beneath your —his— shirt and he cups your breast, thumb pressing down on your nipple, rubbing. “Let me help you focus on us.”

Your curl legs around his hips, hoping that the press of his hard length against your core will really centre you in the moment. And it truly does. 

You allow yourself to enjoy this moment with him, knowing it is fleeting and will be over way too soon and Nyx back in Velaris. 

“I love you, Y/N.” 

You cup the nape of his neck with your hand, fingers entangled in his soft silken strands, mouths colliding, teeth clacking.

“I love you—”

“Nyx!” The entrance door bangs against the wall of the hut, so loud even the mice in the smallest nooks can hear it. It feels like time stands still when Nyx steps away and whips his head into…the High Lord’s direction.

There is nothing but confusion and a hunt of shock etched upon Nyx‘s father‘s face, like he can’t really believe what he is seeing.

“I was looking for you.” The High Lord is not stuttering, but something close to it and Nyx, his cheeks a deep red, looks like he is wringing for the right words, all engines in his mind working on high speed.

“This is Y/N,” he finally says and adds, “And she is my mate.”

　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

“And the hating each other part…?”

“Fake.” A sheepish grin spreads over Nyx‘s face and he bites down on his lower lip.

His father chuckles lowly and shakes his head at his son. “When did this happen? The bond I mean. When did it snap in place for you?”

Rhysand still looks a little flabbergasted. Even minutes later when the three of you sit together on the couch, now you and Nyx fully dressed.

“Shortly after the Blood Rite. I went to congratulate her on becoming Arktosion, and well…our eyes met and the bond snapped.” Nyx turns to you and takes your hand into his, squeezing softly.

“That was nearly a year ago,” the High Lord expresses and throws his son an incredulous look. “You’ve been keeping your bond a secret for so long!?”

Nyx and you nod.

“You could have told us. At least your mother and—”

“We couldn‘t.” Nyx shakes his head again, then leans into you and kisses the top of your head.

Then he continues, “It would have been too dangerous. Dad, I know you. And I know mum. You would have wanted to get involved. You would have tried to talk to Devlon and we couldn’t risk it. Y/N‘s mother and sister are in his tight grip and—”

“If he finds out about our mating bond he will do unspeakable things to them.” Your gaze drops, voice so vulnerable and silent you hope the High Lord could even hear you.

He did, and his power stretches out, brushing you. “You will have our protection always. And so will your sister and mother. You can come to live in Velaris with us.”

You are grateful for this, really, but you cannot accept just yet. You will first have to talk to your mother and your sister. Explain everything to them. And you will have to catch them when your father is not home. And then you need to arrange everything and—

“Thank you so much,” you finally say and meet the High Lord’s gaze. Sitting here with him feels a bit surreal, considering who he is. But then you remember that you have been rolling around in the sheets with the prince of the night for the whole previous night and it no longer feels so odd.

Many times you have already asked him if you are truly good enough for him, for a prince, and he has always told you yes, then poked you or smacked your arm lightly to make his point clear. And then most of the time he kissed you. Or more.

“Really. Thank you much. For the offer. I will gladly accept but I need a little time.”

“Whenever you are ready,” Nyx whispers, but there is worry in his eyes. “You have time. Talk to your mother and sister and then you let me know how we will go forward.” Lifting your intertwined hands, he kisses your knuckles.

You sit together for a little longer, Rhysand wanting to find out a bit more who is tied to his son‘s soul by the mating bond and who has consequently stolen Nyx’s heart.

You open up easily to him, his kindness and love for his son, visible in every word he says. They are an amazing family and you feel very lucky to somehow be a part of it.

Only a while later, and when Rhys and Nyx truly have to leave for Velaris (the High now finally having found his son who had closed the mental to his father during the night he spent with you) you go back home to your mother and sister, hoping to catch them before you father gets home. But he is already there and so decide to wait a few more days, think about it, clear your mind and really form a plan. You have been hiding this relationship for so long, you can now also wait a bit longer. 

Nothing is rushing you. You and Nyx will one day be together, that is true, and if one more day lies between you and him being ultimately together or not, doesn’t matter to you. Not with the prosperity of being with him and the knowledge that while living a life with him your mother and sister will be safe.

You will fill them in on your plan in a few days, when the time is right.

But you later find out that waiting was a fatal decision.

　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

“You want to leave Windhaven?” Your father raises a brow, and you vigorously shake your head. Your cousins leave the shadows behind you, closing in on you until they catch your arms. “You were going to leave us, weren’t you?”

“No, father.” Your voice is so vulnerable, why would I?

The door hasn’t even fallen into the lock when you knew you stepped right into a trap. Your mother and sister are cowered together in the corner of the room, shaking so hard you even see it from the distance.

You wiggle against their hold, but your cousins are just stronger, their nails biting into your skin, their silent laughter ringing in your ears.

“Letting your mother and sister alone to do all the work?” Devlon —your father— takes a step forward and this is the first time you see the tool in his hands. The same tool that was used to clip a female's wings. Your stomach coils, panic, strong and terrible, blazing through you. You feel how your knees start to buckle, but you fight against it.

“I wasn’t going to leave.”

“Bullshit!” Devlon shouts. “Do you think I am stupid. That I couldn’t detect this damn mating bond. The heir‘s powers are strong but not that stronger. The glamour starts to fade.” Disdain laces his features.

“Were you hoping to become a princess one day, huh?” He stalks forward and weighs the tool in his hands.

You want to growl at him but you keep your mouth shut.

“I need to disappoint you. Someone like you will never be a princess, and most definitely not a High Lady. You are a laundry girl and you will stay like that.”

“Father, I—”

The click of his tongue shuts you up. “Too late for silly apologies. It is not time to make sure you stay where you belong.” Darkness falls over his face, and he tips his chin. It is your cousin’s cue to move. They turn you and force your chest down to lie atop the wooden table.

He is going to clip your wings and there is nothing you can do against it. You are strong, but not stronger than the three of them. 

The content of your stomach sours at the helplessness you are feeling, tears burning behind your eyes. But you won’t give him that. You won’t cry. He doesn’t deserve your tears. You won’t be vulnerable. You won’t be weak. And if he clips your wings, you will—

“Devlon don’t!” your mother cries out, but your father shuts her up with a snarl and a pointed, warning look into her direction. He steps closer and presses down on your back, forcing your face to rub against the harsh, wooden surface, some splinters definitely piercing into your skin, drawing blood. Your spine cracks and your shoulders ache from the angle your cousins are still holding your arms and you cry out in pain — it is just too much, you can’t hold it in any longer.

“It is her fault. She didn’t want it any differently. She brought—”

Devlon‘s sneer is cut short.

The main door bursts open with an impact that has the whole hut shaking, power so strong and lethal when it stretches out makes you aware that it can only be the High Lord and your mate who have arrived. You whip your head into their direction and a loud sob parts your lips.

Morrigan is also in tow, the first to move towards you and your father. “Hands off the girl! Now!” she growls, fury swirling in her hazel eyes.

It must be the shock, and definitely fear that makes your cousins step back, letting go off your hands. One of the stupid brutes even has the audacity to speak up and say, “He made us do it.”

But no one pays him any attention. Everything is focused on you, and the tool, the large clipping tool, positioned at the base of your wings and the male holding it. Devlon, despite stepping back, does not seem remorseful about his actions.

“Devlon.” Rhysand’s growl ripples through the hut and Nyx sets out to get to you as quickly as possible. He helps you up and pulls your shivering body to his chest. “I got you. Nothing can happen now,” Nyx whispers against your head, but you can’t quite focus, your attention on your father.

“What is going on here!” Rhysand demands and his lethal power fills the room.

But your father is not afraid. His face displays nothing but purely male smugness when he says, “Do you know about it, Rhysand? What they did?”

“That they are mates,” the High Lord answers matter-of-factly. He slides his hands into the pockets of his pants and pins the camp lord with a look. 

Surprise passes over Devlon’s face – he hasn’t expected Rhysand to know. Thought, or maybe even hope, to catch him off guard and shock him. But quite the opposite is the case.

“I know that.” Rhysand turns to look at you and his son. “And I also know what you were about to do. What would have happened if we had arrived here any moment later.” Lethal calm graces each of his words, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You hold tighter onto your mate. 

In the corner of your eye you can see that Lady Morrigan moves swiftly across the room, crouching down at the opposite side and throwing both her arms around your sister and your mother. She whispers something to them but you can’t make out the words

Your heart is beating so rapidly, nearly jumps out of your chest. Ragged breaths leave you and you feel lucky you’re holding onto your mate for support. You know you would fall to the ground otherwise.

“Your daughter is my son’s mate and that makes her part of my family. She is mine to protect.”

The High Lord’s power lashes out but before you can see what happens to your father, black mist swirl around, blurring your vision until everything is dark and you enter a state of oblivion. 

　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

“No-o!” Your throat is too dry, voice hoarse and the shout that leaves your croaky. You re shaking, chest heaving rapidly, but when strong arms wrap around you and you are pulled flush to a solid, warm chest, every seems to ease.

“Nyx—”

“I am right here. With you.” His lips brush your head. “You are safe. We are in Velaris. Far away from your father, my star.”

Now there is no more holding back for the tears. The run freely. The damn breaks and they burst out of your eyes. 

“I-I-my wings. He wanted to—” Your breath catches and you tio back your head, finally opening your eyes despite the stinging burn in them. “Mother. Salia!”

“Here as well.” Nyx appears in your vision and rests his forehead against yours, not giving you a chance to take in the room you are currently in. 

He exhales softly. “They are all here and safe. And your father—” He swallows. “He is taken care of.”

He offers no more of an explanation and you also don’t ask. Because you simply don’t care. He can rot in Hel…

“Thank—”

He kisses you. And then the corner of your mouth. “Never, ever thank me for something like this. You are my mate. My love. My soon-to-be wife. You are mine and also mine to protect. I love you, my star.”

“I love you, my prince.” You smile through your tears and kiss him again.

After holding each other for a bit longer, Nyx helps you rise and you can finally see the room —his room— you are in and marvel at it. It is phenomenal and Nyx explains that it is your room from now on as well.

He helps you bath and get dressed and when all is done you join the rest of his family, of your family, in the kitchen for breakfast, embracing both your mother and sister tightly, holding on so tightly as if you never want to let go again.

“The nightmare is over,” your mother whispers, and the three of you start to cry.

You later learn that Rhysand that you are under full protection of them and your mother and sister were given a small house near the Sidra river to live in from now on. You can barely thank them enough, but High Lady Feyre reaches her hand out to you and says, “We have to thank you. For the reason for our son’s happiness.”

[moonfawnx]

Hands touching, fingers entangling

Nyx Archeron x reader

Chapter 1

Nyx stared at her.

She stared right back.

“Take her to Azriel- she needs to be questioned” his father ordered the two guards.

His heart faltered.

Would they take her to dungeons? Put her in a cell?

Gods she was so small, she couldn’t be older than 25 if she was a human.

“Father” he interrupted them talking.

His father’s eyes met his own, as the narrowed.

A silent question, he realised.

“I can speak to her, instead of Azriel” he spoke, as bis eyer went to his mother, who was looking at him confused.

But as she saw his expression, one of stubbornness and surprise, she understood.

“But-“ his father tried to object, before he was silenced by the high lady.

“Rhys darling, our son is the heir- he needs to learn how to handle this stuff. Let him.” she smiled at her mate.

The pair seemed to have a silent conversation, before Rhys sighed and nodded, before Feyre winnowed him away.

Nyx ordered the guards away as well, claiming that he could handle the girl in front of him.

Or maybe he couldn’t.

As soon as the guards were out, before he could even register what was happening, she had landed a punch straight on his face.

“Were you the one to tell them?” she asked angrily “Were you the reason they caught me?”

Nyx held his nose, a shocked expression on his face as he stared at the female in front of him, scolding him as if he wasn’t the prince.

“I have no clue of what you’re talking about, my lady” he tried to contain his small grin at the human’s fierce.

She was silent as she looked around, inspecting every single detail of his home. Now that he was given a closest look at her, he made sure to admire all of her features, from her shiny hair, to her deep green eyes, her delicate hands, and very, very short legs. Probably due to humanity.

And then, just like that, she turned around and started walking away from him.

“Um, excuse me?” he rushed to her side but was given no attention “My lady, you cannot-“

A frustrated sigh left her lips as she turned and looked at him.

“Respectfully, prince”she gave him a tight smile “i do not wish to be chewed out for sneaking here”

“you won’t be” the words left his mouth quicker than he’d ever imagine. “I mean- it was wrong of course but…”

“But what?” her eyebrow rose, giving him a curious expression.

“But it was also very impressive. And you must have some guts to do that” he breathed out, as he finally really thought about what happened.

A human, that didn’t even reach his shoulders in height, whom looked no more that two decades old, had somehow managed to sneak and twist his father’s shields?

How was that even possible, and why was no one else freaked out?

She opened her mouth, to speak again, but a loud crush interrupted her.

Both their heads snapped towards the direction where the sound came from, only to come face with a very bloody Amren, surrounded by broken bottles, leaking of blood.

“Oh my gods” The girl breathed out, staring at the creature as if she’d seen a ghost.

Nyx quickly remembered, that not everyone was used to his blood-drinking aunt and her unnatural looks, especially not a young human girl who probably didn’t even know the name of the high lord.

But before he even had the chance to explain to the girl the speciality of his aunt, her body was on the floor, passed out.

-

It was hours later, that Y/n woke up in a strange bed, worryingly huge. Her eyes fluttered as she eyed the area around her, noting the dark walls, but the richness evident.

She heard a sound, coming from the door across the bed she was laying in, and then the beautiful man from later, headed towards her, giving her a slight smirk.

Worst of all, the closest thing to garments on him, was the towel wrapped around his waist, as droplets slid through his skin.

“Well, look who’s finally awake” he grinned, fangs flashing.

“Where am i?” was all she answered with.

“This is my bedroom” He replied simply, as if it wasn’t weird how a stranger was in his bed.

Without another word, Y/n was up, heading towards the door, before the princeling stopped her by grabbing her wrist softly.

“And where do you think you’re going beautiful?” he shamelessly grinned at the girl in front of him.

“Three seconds” she only said.

His grin turned into a look of confusion.

“What do you mean”

“One” she started counting, as Nyx looked at her amused.

“Two” she continued, giving him a stern look.

“Three!” the heir finished her counting for her. “What does this even mean-“ he tried to ask, but was too late, as the girl quickly grabbed one of the plates on his near night stand, and smashed it on him.

Absolute wild eyes stared at her, appalled by the hit, and even if he would never admit it, mad that he did not predict that.

His hand rubbed his nose, scrunching it in pain. “Now what was that for”

“Do not touch me again” she sais dryly, completely unaffected by the smack she had landed on him.

“And you couldn’t just say that?” The heir asked bewildered, and for whatever sick reason, felt a soft attraction towards the girl in front of him, due to her obvious to everyone beauty.

“I-“ she started, but instantly paused as her eyes landed on something behind Nyx, towards his balcony.

He turned to also understand what she was looking for, and came across a bloodied Cassian and Azriel sparring.

“My god-“ he heard her mutter, and a few seconds later, she was falling, having fainted again,

“Fucking gods” the heir mumbled, as he once again placed the girl on his bed and-

And fucking headed to take care of his stupid bloody nose she had given him.

-

A/N i am aware this is a very short chapter but trust me, the fun starts by the next chapter!

Taglist: @acourtofsmutandstarlight @writeroutoftime

[starkskeep]

But if you hold me without hurting me (r. stark)

But if you hold me without hurting me r. stark imagine

Pt. 5 of Oh, all I used to do was pray, Right when I felt the moment stop, And I might be ok, but I'm not fine at all, And the life I gave away

Pairings - Robb Stark x female!Reader

Summary - You have a long-awaited conversation with Robb. It changes things between the two of you.

Word Count - 1,133 words

Warnings - Angst, Possibly unbearable cheesiness

A/N - I broke the Taylor Swift title streak. In my defense, I have been a LDR stan since middle school and Cinnamon Girl makes me sob every time I listen to it.

Songs I listened to while writing: Like Real People Do (Hozier), Cinnamon Girl, Carmen (Lana Del Rey), Me and My Husband (Mitski)

Robb feels his heart start to beat erratically as he watches you and Jon. It is obvious that you care deeply about Jon as he does you. Robb knows that he has walked in on something private, feeling jealous but also wishing that he could be the one to comfort you as such. Your moment with Jon is interrupted when Robb clears his throat in order to make you aware of his entrance into your chambers. The sound startles you and causes you to turn in Robb’s direction. Jon also turns to look at Robb, his expression wary that Robb would misinterpret the scene.

Robb begins to speak slowly but his voice cracks ever so slightly, his heart contracting in his chest due to an onslaught of emotions. “Am I interrupting anything?”

You quickly regain your composure. “No, my lord husband, you are not. I lost a letter earlier today. Jon has calmed me down and agreed to help look for it.” You dismiss Jon from your chambers, assuring him that you will be okay. 

Jon locks eyes with Robb as he leaves. Tensions eased between him and Robb once he saw Robb trying to fix everything. However, Jon still continues to be an advocate for you. His brother looks back at him, eyes filled with questions he knows Jon cannot answer. Robb just needs to know that you are going to be okay, regardless of what happened. 

Your husband takes a step closer to you. He looks into your eyes, searching for the pain that he knows must be there. You are a strong woman but no one should be subjected to the kind of abuse that the letter contained. As he moves closer, you notice the letter crumpled in Robb’s fist. “Ah. It seems as I I do not need to search for the letter.” You say with a sad smile, “I take it that you have seen what my father thinks of me?”

Looking down at the letter once again, Robb scowls. The fury that had been burning inside of him returns to the surface. His head shakes in disgust and he quickly closes his fist tighter around the letter, as if the action would make the item disappear from existence. Robb nods once in acknowledgment of her question. “I did. It is nothing less than disgraceful.” He draws his eyes up to meet yours. Robb’s voice shakes with thinly veiled anger. “Your father is a cruel, cruel man. To say such things to you, his own daughter…well, it is unforgivable.” He says the last word through gritted teeth.

You motion for Robb to sit next to you. In your almost year of marriage, this is the first time that you have actually asked him to be near you. It seems as if he has realized this fact as well if his hesitancy is anything to go off of. Robb’s nervous movements are in stark contrast to your controlled stillness. A couple moments pass between you two before you begin to talk. Long-awaited and much-needed words begin this conversation. “It’s cruel but what he says is true. I have failed in my duty as a wife. I should have given you an heir by now.” 

Completely stunned is how the maesters would describe Robb if they were here to record this meeting. You are still calling him your husband, even after everything he has done, but you are voicing something that Robb would never want to believe. Yes, it is a wife’s and therefore your duty to give him an heir, but he would never, never force you to conceive if you were not yet ready. He turns to face the fireplace, staring into the flickering flames as he realizes how truly damaged you have been from a childhood in the Frey household and the months as his wife. Both of you have tried to do everything that has been expected of you, yet it is you who has suffered the most and continues to endure. Robb is angry at the world. Angry at the cruel words of your father. Angry at himself for the way he has treated you. Sighing deeply, he speaks after gathering his emotions. “Do not let them make you believe that this is your fault. It takes two to make a child. I am just as much to blame for the situation we find ourselves in…” 

Robb’s words trail off when he feels you place your head on his shoulder. It seems to be a night of firsts. Much like you never asked him to be near you, you have never initiated any sort of physical comfort. You both enjoy the feeling until you bring Robb back to reality with your voice breaking the silence. “I don’t blame you for anything. I want you to know that. You were forced to marry me, forced to make me your queen, while you still loved Talisa. Why would you want to leave her side for a Frey, especially when Talisa was carrying your child? I ruined your life.”

Feeling a tear soak into the shoulder of his tunic, Robb tilts your head up so he can see you clearly. “You didn’t ruin my life. I made a deal with your father. I knew what I was agreeing to when I crossed the bridge.” He reaches his thumb to brush the tears off your face. “This is not your burden to bear. It is something we must share. Something we must work through so that we can grow together. Something I should have worked harder on at the beginning of our marriage.” Your husband sighs deeply and shakes his head, trying to accept how much he has just spoken. Robb comes to the startling realization that he has never voiced this sentiment to you before, much less even admitted it to himself. 

“Thank you. I need to hear those words said to me.” You say and place a gentle kiss on Robb’s cheek. A blush spreads across your face as you do so.

He freezes when he feels your lips brush against his skin. A matching pink tint blotches his cheeks like yours did. This is the first time you have shown affection for him and it feels…good. Robb smiles and leans over to place a kiss on your forehead, wanting to continue this newfound physical affection that you have started. “I’m here for you. I know I haven’t been in the past, but from this moment forward, I will always be here for you my queen.” The increased presence of his Northern accent betrays the emotions that are overwhelming him. Staring into your eyes, his gaze reveals nothing but honesty and sincerity in his gaze. Robb meant every word he said to you tonight. 

A/N - Once again, thank you so much for reading. My ask box is always open for requests, comments, or if just want to gush about our lovely Stark boys.

[the-darkestminds]

Autumn's Shadow: Chapter 5

Azriel x Eris (Azriel POV)

Summary: A covert meeting between Azriel and Eris to exchange valuable intel leaves Azriel reeling—and questioning everything he has ever felt for the Heir of Autumn. Azriel finds himself inexorably drawn to Eris, unable to resist his captivating allure. With the threat of Koschei and Beron looming ever closer, can their forbidden love endure in the face of such danger?

a/n: The plot is not canon compliant. For this chapter I assumed Azriel has never been to the Autumn Court beyond his unpleasant stints at the border. Also slowed down Fae healing just for funsies. Some descriptions of violence and injuries.

Let me know if you want to be added to a tag list!

Read on AO3!

Full Chapter List

Chapter 5:

Azriel closed his eyes as the cool evening breeze swept softly over his skin, ruffling his dark hair. He loved Velaris this time of year. The days were crisp and the green of the trees had slowly faded into reds and golds. He preferred the longer nights. As he surveyed the forest around him he breathed deeply in an attempt to calm his nerves. He was here on orders from Rhys to find out what Eris had told Beron of his capture and subsequent rescue. Though Azriel knew he would’ve come up with an excuse to see Eris, orders or no. There had been some spark between them, and then everything had gone to shit. He didn’t know where that left them. The thought made him nervous.

He shook off the doubt that threatened to swallow him every time he thought too long about Eris Vanserra. He should be celebrating. Briallyn was gone, decimated by Nesta when the queen attempted to use Cassian against her. He was still in awe of how far Nesta had come. She’d completed the Blood Rite and had scaled Ramiel, along with Emerie and Gwyn, something no other non-illyrians, or females, had ever done. He was proud of her, his friend. And then she had saved Feyre and Nyx—and Rhys. It had been the scariest minutes of his life, watching the life drain out of Feyre, hearing Rhys scream, seeing the too-tiny babe silent in Mor’s arms. He’d had more than one nightmare about it and spent as much time with Nyx as he could this past week to quiet his fears. He felt better with the boy safe in his arms. A reminder that everything had worked out, thanks to Nesta. He shivered at the memories.

As if summoned on the chilled fall breeze, Eris appeared in the clearing before him. Before Azriel could open his mouth in greeting, Eris stumbled. His first thought was that Eris was drunk, but then he smelled blood.

“What’s—Eris?” Azriel’s eyes widened in alarm at the state of the male before him. Eris’s creamy white skin, normally glowing with health, was wan and gray. The red freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose and cheeks looked like tiny drops of blood. He shone with sweat as he panted through clenched teeth and looked at Azriel with pain-glazed eyes.

“What happened.” He heard the harshness of his voice and tried to soften it, “Eris, what’s wrong—?” Eris stumbled again, and then dropped to his knees before sprawling face first onto the hard ground beneath him, too quickly for Azriel to break his fall. “Eris!”

Azriel hissed through his teeth as he knelt beside him and got his first look at Eris’s back. The white of his shirt was completely soaked through with blood. He could see that the fabric had been slashed into his skin, like whoever had done this had been too lazy to remove the shirt before inflicting the damage. Eris’s arms shook with pain as he tried to push himself off the ground, half-sobbing through clenched teeth. Azriel grabbed his arm and hauled him the rest of the way up. Eris cried out in agony. 

“I don’t want your pity,” he groaned. The words lacked their usual bite, and Eris swayed precariously enough that Azriel was forced to bear nearly all of his weight.  

Azriel was no stranger to blood, or pain. So why did he feel utterly sick to his stomach at the sight of those wounds open and bleeding? Why did the sound of Eris’s pained cry pierce something deep in his chest? Azriel didn’t respond—didn’t want to hear the tremor of fear in his own voice. He didn’t stop to think, he just summoned his shadows and let them pull him and Eris along in their dark current. 

***

Azriel stepped out of the shadows in the corner of his apartment in Velaris. In the seconds it had taken to shadow-walk to his place across town, Eris had passed out. His blood now coated the back of his pants, and Azriel’s shirt was damp with it as well.

Azriel gently laid Eris face down on his bed. The blood would certainly stain the white sheets, but things could be replaced. He summoned a healer’s kit using his shadows and leaned over the male to get a closer look at the wounds. Azriel had enough battlefield healing skills to tend to the deep gashes. He let out a sigh of relief that he wouldn’t need to find a more experienced healer. He didn’t want to explain to anyone why the Heir of Autumn was bloody and injured in his bed. He also suspected that Eris would hate to be seen like this by anyone in the Night Court. It did something funny to Azriel’s stomach that Eris had sought him out. Or perhaps Eris had nowhere else to go, no one else he trusted…The thought didn’t sit well with him.

Azriel worked quickly but carefully as he cut through the fabric of the shirt until only the stuck ribbons of cloth remained. As gently as he could, he worked to remove those strips from the wounds on Eris’s back.

He gritted his teeth as he tugged the last one out and the wound reopened, causing Eris to stir and moan in pain as more blood trickled down his sides. Azriel’s shadows swept out to soothe him, and seconds later he was unconscious again, allowing Azriel to clean the wounds and apply the salve to his back. The gashes would heal, but there would be significant scarring. He could see the faint remnants of old scars, a patchwork of pain that Eris was clearly no stranger to. Azriel looked away, not wanting to see the evidence of what he was quickly suspecting Eris’s life had been like with Beron as his father. He didn’t want to consider why it kindled such fury in him. So instead, he let his mind drift as he gently washed the blood away and bandaged the wounds. He battled with himself for a few seconds and decided to leave Eris’s blood-drenched pants on. He didn’t know how Eris would react if he woke up in only his briefs. 

Once that was decided, he washed the blood off his own hands and changed into a clean shirt and sweats. Azriel lingered by the bed, listening to the steady sound of Eris’s breathing. He allowed himself a moment to admire the male’s face, so much softer in sleep. Azriel noticed the fading bruises along his cheekbone and clenched his jaw tightly. Was there any form of abuse Eris hadn’t endured? How had he been so blind to it? 

Eris had known what he would face upon returning home to Beron—had clearly endured this form of torture before, gauging by the deep scars scattered across his back. He’d been afraid, and Azriel had insulted him. He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed miserably. For all he knew it had been going on since Eris was a child. He pictured a young, innocent Eris facing a similar fate and considered winnowing to Autumn right then and there to tear Beron apart. 

Before Azriel could stop himself, he reached down and brushed aside the stray lock of hair that had fallen across the male’s forehead. Eris sighed contentedly in his sleep. He dropped his hand and stared down at him, thinking. He'd never really seen Eris—had never looked too closely, always too consumed by his own hate and rage to think of anything else. But he was looking now. 

Azriel promised himself he would do better as he settled into the plush chair across the room to watch over the male sleeping in his bed.

***

Azriel stayed awake all night, watching, while Eris slept like the dead. The room was still dark, dawn a few hours off, when the male finally stirred. Azriel threw his own shadows around himself like a cloak as he silently stepped back into the far corner of the room, hidden from view. He wasn’t sure if Eris would want to see him, what with the vulnerable state he was in. 

Eris hissed as he sat up fully, the still-tender cuts on his back pulling painfully from the movement. He watched as Eris rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and glanced warily around the room, and then at the bandages wrapped around his torso. Azriel’s scent likely told him enough about where he was. When he noticed the clean shirt Azriel had folded and left on the table beside the bed he picked it up and carefully slid it on.

Eris looked directly at Azriel and mumbled, “Thank you.” 

Azriel blinked in surprise and looked down at himself. He was completely hidden by shadows. How on earth did Eris know he was there? 

“Are you going to hide in the shadows all night?” Eris asked. His voice was hoarse, like he’d been screaming. Azriel let the shadows drop as he walked across the room towards Eris. He stopped several feet away, unsure of himself.

“Are you in pain?” he asked. Eris huffed a laugh, though there was no humor in it. 

“Nothing I can’t handle.” 

Azriel’s brows furrowed in concern. He summoned the healing salve from his shadows and handed it to Eris. 

“In case it becomes too much, have someone apply this to the wounds.” He hoped there was someone in Autumn who would. Maybe his mother could help him. Eris eyed the salve skeptically and Azriel sighed, “Eris…don’t be difficult. Please, just take it.”

Eris reached out and accepted the small tin. He pocketed it as he stood slowly with a soft groan. 

“Thank you,” he said again. Azriel nodded. 

“You can stay, if you want,” Azriel offered quickly, “For however long you want.” Eris studied him with bleak eyes and shook his head slightly.

“I’ve been gone too long already…I should get back.” He looked like he’d rather do anything else. Azriel nodded, unsurprised by the refusal. Eris’s life was complicated. Far more complicated than Azriel had ever imagined. He was an idiot for not realizing it sooner. They stood there quietly, looking at each other. 

Before Eris could leave, Azriel reached out and squeezed his hand gently, his cheeks flushing faintly. 

“Just…be careful,” he said softly. He knew the words were spoken too late, and probably didn’t make a difference anyway. Eris stared at him for a few more seconds, some emotion Azriel couldn’t place swirling in his eyes, and then winnowed far away. Azriel clenched his fist against the loss of those warm fingers in his.

***

Four days later, Azriel sent a note to Eris asking to meet up wherever was most convenient for him. Their alliance was still a secret to all but Lucien, Jurian, and Vassa, and would remain so until Beron was disposed of.

A day after the note was sent, Eris agreed to meet on the outskirts of the small town several dozen miles east of Velaris. When Azriel arrived, Eris was already there, sitting on a smooth boulder, his legs dangling off the edge as he leaned back on his hands. He didn’t look at Azriel, but he could tell Eris knew he was there. He always knew. 

Azriel walked over and settled on the other end of the rock. He glanced at the male’s cold face and saw the purple bruises under his eyes. Eris still didn’t look at him. He only gazed off towards the rolling hills, as if admiring the autumn colors that now dominated the land. The playful male from several weeks ago was gone. Or hidden deep inside this shell that sat before him.

Before Azriel could speak, Eris said, “I suppose you want to know what I told Beron?” His voice was hollow. Empty.

“That’s not why I’m here.” Though technically, it should’ve been. Eris finally turned his head and stared at Azriel blankly, waiting. He saw none of the usual fire in his eyes, only shadows. “I just—”

“I suppose I owe you a debt,” Eris interrupted. “Normally I conduct myself better than that. My apologies, shadowsinger.” He tried to smirk, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“There is no debt, Eris. I just—” Azriel stumbled, afraid the wrong words would send Eris running again. “I wanted to see if you were alright,” he admitted woodenly. Eris just looked at him, his eyes cold and haunted. How could he convince Eris that he cared? There had always been so much vitriol between them, probably too much to ever bridge that gap. But things had been different lately, and Azriel wanted to try.

“I’m fine, Azriel,” Eris sighed tiredly as he stood up. “It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” Azriel’s heart leapt at the sound of his name on Eris’s lips. He didn’t think he had ever heard Eris call him anything but shadowsinger, or bastard, or brute. He turned to walk away.

“Wait—” Azriel jumped up and reached for Eris’s shoulder, meaning to stop him from leaving again so abruptly, the way he always did. Eris hissed in pain and flinched away from the touch. “Eris, why didn’t you see a healer? Did you even bother to use the salve?” he demanded. Eris glared at him.

“What good would the punishment be if I were permitted to heal so quickly? Beron forbids it, and I obey. Better to do nothing than risk my father’s wrath.” 

He bared his teeth at Azriel, as if daring him to mock his blind obedience. Azriel knew what it was like to have a cruel father, but the suffering Eris must have endured all these centuries floored him. He wanted to tear Beron apart slowly, painfully, until he was begging for death. His wings flared and his shadows writhed around him as his temper rose.

“Relax. I don’t want your pity,” Eris repeated the words he’d spoken the other night. His eyes trailed over the wings now on display over Azriel’s shoulders. Azriel snapped them back into his body tightly. Took a deep breath.

“It’s not pity, Eris. I get it, okay? But just…do you have to go back so soon?” Azriel felt his face flush with embarrassment at how pathetic he must sound, practically begging for a chance to talk to Eris about something other than Beron or Spring or Koschei.

Eris hesitated, but then sighed, “Very well,” and sat back down. He eyed Azriel warily. 

Azriel fumbled for something to say, and then settled on what he thought was a safe topic. “Would you leave Autumn? If you could?” he asked.

Eris seemed surprised by the question and remained quiet for several seconds, thinking. “No. As much as I detest my father and his court, the people of Autumn deserve to be led by someone who cares for them. I love my home, and my people. I won’t abandon them.” Azriel nodded. He respected Eris’s commitment to his duty as heir. “Have you ever been to the Autumn Court? Lurking around the borders doesn’t count,” Eris added.

Azriel’s stomach twisted. The three times he had been to Autumn in his long life were not pleasant memories. The first was when he had found Mor, naked and brutalized in the forest. The second was when he and Cassian had come to Feyre’s aid, and Eris had been stabbed in the stomach in the process. The other was when he’d been caught spying on Eris and his brothers, attempting to glean how much they knew about Feyre’s powers. Eris seemed aware of where his thoughts had strayed and glanced away guiltily. 

“I know you must think me a monster, for not helping Morrigan that day. But perhaps now you understand a little better what living under Beron’s rule, as my wife, would’ve meant for her. She would’ve been another tool for my father to wield against me, nothing more,” Eris admitted in a low voice. “She likely would’ve been dead the second Beron learned of her betrayal.”

It was hard for Azriel to accept the words, even as they rang true. He had agonized over that dreadful day for so long, had hated both Keir and Eris in equal measure, despite knowing it was really Keir who was at fault. And yet Mor had never sought revenge on either of them. He sighed deeply. 

“It’s hard to look at you and not see Mor, broken in those woods,” he said, “but I know she would’ve suffered worse had she gone with you. I know that.” He let Eris see the acceptance in his eyes. Eris nodded once in return and looked back out over the hills. They sat in silence for several minutes until Eris finally spoke again.

“Though I would never consider anyone saddled with Cassian as a brother to be lucky…” Eris chuckled as Azriel stiffened at the insult, “You are blessed to have friends, a family, you can trust. I envy you.” Azriel raised his brows, shocked at the admission. 

“Surely there are some in the Autumn Court you can call friends?” Azriel’s heart squeezed painfully at the idea of Eris being truly alone. 

Eris’s face darkened again. “Perhaps for a time, that was true. Now…I can trust the soldiers in my immediate employ. Some of them might’ve been my friends, under different circumstances. If I remember correctly, you and the brute killed a few of those men several months ago. Have you forgotten their deaths already?” His voice was cold. 

Azriel ignored the second dig at Cassian. He had carried the weight of his guilt around since Eris had first found out what they had done to the soldiers they’d encountered in the Bog of Oorid. Rhys had sent Cassian and Nesta to deliver the news. Judging by Cassian’s sullen mood when they returned, he’d suspected Eris had ripped into him for it. They hadn’t stopped to think beyond eliminating the threat. Cassian had yet to inform him that more of his men had met the same fate. Shame sat heavily on his chest.

“I’m sorry we weren’t able to spare them. Truly, Eris. If I could change what happened, I would.” The lick of anger left Eris as quickly as it had come. His shoulders slumped ever so slightly. Several minutes passed before Eris spoke again.

“No,” he said, “I don’t have friends.” His voice was hard, and he wouldn’t meet Azriel’s eyes.

Azriel studied the male beside him—really let himself see Eris as he was, without the masks he so often wore. It was a risk, to reach out a hand. Eris might very well bite it off if he saw it as anything resembling pity. But Azriel decided to take a chance as he asked gently, “Would you like one?” 

Eris turned to meet his gaze, surprise, and something like longing, flaring in his amber eyes. He studied Azriel’s face, his open expression, and seemed to war with himself over whether it was a genuine offer or not. And then finally, Eris nodded and gripped Azriel’s outstretched hand firmly. Azriel swore he felt a spark in his fingertips as their skin met.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next Chapter

Tag list: @unanswered-stars

[itsmeyaspider]

This is turning into a lovely evening~

Ramsay Bolton x female reader

Trigger warning: gore, violence, sexual harassment, mention of r@pe, mention of torture, r@pe, please be beware that Ramsay is not a nice man, kidnapping, blood kink,forced pregnancy

>>Credits go to the artist<<

~ Before we begin, I want to make it clear that Ramsay is not capable of loving anyone at all. The only thing he really enjoys is torturing and abusing others. You can see it how he treats his fellow human beings, most of the time he manipulates them. Even his father isn't safe from that. The only thing that makes sense to me is that he sees you like a pet or more of a plaything but nothing serious like love.

~ Maybe you crossed Ramsays path once or you work as a maid for him, it doesn't really matter because I doubt he would ever treat you differently.

~ You now have his full attention and believe me that's something you really don't want. Because one thing is for sure Ramsay is a very possessive man and when he wants something, he gets it.

~ I imagine thar he simply takes you from your home, he grabs your (h/c) hair and pulls you into his castle in Winterfell. If your family members were to resist, he would either have them burned to death in agony or lock them away in his torture basement where he would do many unspeakable things. Maybe he let you watch it with your own pretty eyes, just to make sure that you know where your place is.

~ He would lock you away in one of his rooms where only he has access to. Even Roose couldn't do anything about it if he wanted to. Ramsay hates to share things, and if anyone dares to look at you in the wrong way, he'll cut their eyes off or even worse.

~ Your life would be a living nightmare, even if Ramsay would treat you a little bit better than Reek, he would still hurt you. This man is a big sadist who loves to see other people suffer and that includes you (Y/n). Ramsay would enjoy your sweet cries, your little tears or your begging to stop him.

"Please, Ramsay, I'm sorry. It won't happen again" you said, lying helplessly on the could ground, blood dripping from your open wounds, but Ramsay doesn't even consider to stop, the fun just started. And besides he is already hard from you small whines.

~ Every day he would take you, whether you like it or not. You have no ther choice to take is cock and be a good pet. He just love seeing you so helpless, especially when he demolished your body with a dagger. He might even carve his name into your back so that everyone knows who you belong to.

~ Never get the idea of running away, because that would give him even more pleasure he already has from you. He loves a good cat and mouse game, especially when he knows that you can't escape. No matter how fast you try to run, his dogs are always faster.

You run and run as fast as your legs could carry you, there is still a small spark inside you, that you might have a chance to really escape this monster. This thought is quickly ruined as you hear loud barking, your (e/c) eyes start to water. You don't look back once and just keep running, knowing that he has sent his dogs after you. Suddenly you feel a sharp pain in your ankle as you fall roughly on the ground. You let out a pain filled scream as the barking becomes louder. You hear a whistle, it sounds pleased and you know directly to who it belongs to "Now Now...look who I caught. You disappoint me, I thought you had learned your lesson, what happens when you defy me. But don't worry, I'll make sure you never come up with the idea of deceiving me again. How about I cut your little legs? Doesn't it sound lovely?"

~ That only thing what might safe you from his torture is a pregnancy, he would be a little bit nicer to you because he needs an heir. It doesn't matter if it's a bastard because you know what they say "Bastards can make it far this days" . But don't think you're safe now, if you dare to betray him again, he would hurt the child or even worse. After all, he can make new ones with you.

~ Maybe you should also pray to the gods that your child doesn't turn out to be anything like his father.

[fizzy-tizzy]

Headcanons for all the survivors gender/sexuality

Wilson- Just Kinda decided he was gonna be a boy when he was like 8 and his dad was so desperate for an heir that didn’t want him dead to rights he just kinda let it happen. would fuck anyone but at the same time is not interested at all

Willow- Butch-ish but more in a tomboy kinda way. genuinely likes wearing skirts and more feminine clothing but doesn’t really think she deserves to? if that makes sense? (She doesn’t really feel like a genuine legit girl) hardcore lesbian.

Wolfgang- Very traditionally masculine but in the “My job is to protect and take care of everyone” and not the “im a man so I can do whatever I want” type way. Gay but could totally be in a lavender relationship/marriage and have no problems w/ it

WX-78- Born a cis female, figured out early on that wasn’t right but couldn’t change it until they were an adult. Transed their gender but then figured out being a male wasn’t right either. eventually found someone who felt similarly and abandoned their flesh for the machine. solidly aroace. they’re triple a (agender, asexual, aromantic) just like batteries

Wickerbottom- cis female and “traditionally” feminine, has never felt the need to explore or question it. Used to be married to a man who was secretly gay and looking for someone similarly emotionally unavailable. He has since passed but left wicker a small fortune so. alls well that ends well ig

Wes- kind of a stereotypical femme twink. The kinda gay whos loud and proud and will hit you with a brick if you have a problem with that. feels obligated to help the others try and figure themselves out- esp the ones who are more in denial abt it

Maxwell- I think the idea that max is trans and Jack is cis and they turned out looking the exact same is hilarious. Technically the only ppl who knows he’s trans are jack and charlie- their parents just think he’s a masculine woman and everyone else knows him as a man. Bi and so so weak for bears and gently bossy women.

Wendy- Non-binary but still in the process of realizing it. Does not give a single shit abt romance but would totally be qpp with Webber once they know what that means.

Woodie- Probably Not Cis but has too much religious trauma to even dare questioning himself. He’s like JUST accepted the fact that he’s gay (still thinks hes going straight to hell but we’re working on that) so ynknow baby steps. baby steps. Deffo has a shit ton of body dysphoria due to the wereforms tho

Webber- Since spiders work a lil different in the constant (probably more like bees) there are like three genders Webber could potentially see themselves as. Drone, warrior, and queen. During his childhood he thinks of himself mostly as a drone but as he gets older and his sway over the spiders increases they’ll shift into seeing themselves as more of a queen. But other that he’s pretty much whatever non-spider gender is most convenient. Definitely bi.

Wigfrid- her gender is… strange. What she outwardly presents is her character’s way of presenting herself so ig I see her as kinda fluid? Idk valiant-valkyrie if ur reading this you can probably do a better job of explaining it. you are the defacto wigfrid authority. Definitely lesbian but once again will do whatever the role requires

Winona- Solidly butch lesbian. Definitely a caretaker and a protector but in the butch kinda way and not the femme kinda way. if that makes sense.

Wurt- Butch but hasn’t really realized it yet. does not think human genders apply to her bcs she’s a merm and will 100% be king when she grows up. baby lesbiab. her and wilba’s eventual union shall bring peace to the pig/merm kingdoms once and for all

Wortox- human genders do not apply to him. They are whatever is most convenient at the time. Fluid like loki and bugs bunny.

Walter- if xenogenders existed back then he would totally be like pupgender/buggender. Non-binary but has no problem being called a boy/man. Would be fine with any prns but people have only ever used he/him for him. Probably going to be a monsterf*cker when he grows up.

Wormwood- He is plant. Plants have sexes but no genders and wormwood is intersex anyway but they kinda just chose the first option presented to him once he found the others. Loves all but has absolutely no interest or idea about non-plant reproductive activities.

Walani- Yknow that “as a girl who’s a gross dude men who are fancy ladies are my best friends”? Yeah that’s her and Warly. she’s the emotional support golden retriever to warly’s high-strung cheetah. Lesbian but like. endearingly loser lesbian who’s only ever smooth when she’s not trying to be.

Warly- as mentioned before he is very much a guy who is a fancy lady. Would probably do drag if he had the chance and would 100% be the baddest bitch who makes all the men question their sexuality. Gay and european.

Wanda- doesn’t have time for all that gender questioning bullshit she just wants to kiss women.

Wheeler- Solid futch, leans more feminine or masculine depending on the situation. Woman-leaning bisexual, has probably fucked someone wife and inadvertently caused a divorce.

Woodlegs- pretty solidly cis male but 100% an embarrassing old gay grandpa. Doesn’t know much abt the terminology but is incredibly supportive and was definitely a homewrecker back in the day. Probably got out of at least one arrest by seducing the naval officer meant to bring him in

Wilba- high femme and definitely a baby lesbian. I do really like the idea of her being trans just because why not so why not. She and wurt are fat femme x fat butch once they grow up

Wagstaff- born as a girl but realized he hated it and made attempts to transition early on. Eventually ran away to America to fully transition. Non-binary too but hasn’t realized it yet and just thinks that everyone feels weird when someone calls them mr or sir. men-liker and old man yaoi certified

Wilbur- yes I’m doing the monkey. Gender is a strange concept to him, so he just kinda calls himself male bcs apparently he is? He doesn’t really understand it but it seems to be pretty important in human society so he’ll do it if it means he gets respected as an actual person and not just some sideshow.

[horizon-verizon]

There is an enduring sense in the fandom that if you cannot structurally change the entire or major parts of an oppressive status quo, it's somehow better that one does absolutely nothing. Bc you're "messing up the stability of an already stable social order, which proved itself to be the best or most reliable bc it's endured for so long".

And I despise it. Because it essentially means that any effort except a huge, topsy-turvy one where the whole system gets upended or severely so doesn't matter. (At the very least those that don't seem like it.)

It's a perfect partner to racism, sexism, homophobia, etc. & people use it not just against Rhaenyra but Dany, Rhaenys, & Alysanne!!! Any Targ woman, really. Aegon V, if one mentions his laws. Ironic, bc Jaehaerys had progressive laws for peasants ONLY bc of Alysanne, but it's obvious why they prefer the female-heir denying Jaehaerys over Aegon V!!!

Coupled with this sense, some say that these women are totally complicit in those systems bc use they happen to be born into royalty or aristocracy, actively use their privileges at times for their own ends instead of ALWAYS to create or influence others for groundbreaking policies & laws, or manage to just escape certain abuses other women face bc they were reserved for the specific task of having children for their male spouses.

Daenerys was a bridal slave, for example. She doesn't face SA from random men every other night, but that doesn't stop the risk of her facing that fate if she were to ever fall out of her husband-owner, Drogo, favor. That doesn't stop her haters from arguing that she should have done more for Mirri & those Lhazareen women, that she even profits from slave labor when she clearly is allocating and directing funds from taxes to the city of Meereen! From ignoring how all those she freed are not still slaves, that the slave masters time and time again have said, point blank, that she is a danger to their enterprise CONTINENT-WIDE!!! She makes mistakes and the biggest one compromising too much with the slave owners of Meereen, yeah, bc she is in the beginning of her leadership journey, and still she manages to inspire loyalty, faith, and hope in many of her followers and she also still manages to keep most people alive w/o actually giving all the way in and that terrifies the slaveowners! For good reason. Read the last few pages of the last book and tell me that she won't come for their necks, either literally or figuratively idc. She's obviously not fucking up so bad or has totally failed in her role as a protector, and she will make mistakes as other leaders before her and after her will! Why this level of negative & bad faith scrutiny?!

And let's go to Rhaenys the Conqueror. She created the rule of thumb & the rule of six, where no man could legally beat their wives to death when she decreed that the rod could not be thicker than the husband's thumb and he could not whack her more than 7 times. Some argue why didn't she outlaw wife-beating entirely if she and her siblings conquered Westeros. First of all, these are the very same people who bleat abt how the Targaryens destroyed and colonized Andal culture without bothering to offer material evidence of such. If Rhaenys & her siblings actually have "colonized" the Andal-FM lords, & it was Andal custom for men to beat their wives indiscriminately…then the Targs couldn't have actually destroyed any part of Andal "culture" and replaced it entirely with Valyrian ones where seemingly men could not beat their wives at all! If you can even consider this "destroying culture", as I'm sure a few would argue. If anything, this was a cultural compromise, and it obviously functioned and was intended as a form of protection for women when before there was absolutely none! Aside from male relatives, but that's not system-wide, makes such cases seem not serious enough or that people across communities shouldn't care too much about others when you personalize it, AND that just reinforces the idea that only men have a property claim over women, be they biologically family or by marriage. Secondly, if you argue that Viserys should have obeyed the "laws" of male primogeniture bc he is a feudal king--the "Protector" of their customs and interests--that is only supported by the swords & loyalty of lords, that the GC of 101 proves that (as if Jaehaerys also didn't use that to enact his own will passively for a male heir), then why is it that Rhaenys seems to do something along those lines and WORK with the current Andal customs, her efforts--which actually are protective to those who needed protecting!!! Rhaenys & her siblings were new monarchs of a newly unified-ish realm, & as unifying conquerors tend to do, they opted for the strategy that would keep them seated bc it made "the lords" comfortable that they would not force them to change the bulk of their religious and cultural practices. Not only did Visenya & Rhaenys arrange strategic marriages that both benefited them and those married (their families), but Aegon made it a point to go on progresses and hear various lords and peasants' issues to arbitrate. Which made it so that these lords felt they would not be led by a leader who'd enforce his laws willy-nilly without considering his subject's conditions or desires. It is in this context that Rhaenys, we could see and assume, was taking a bit of a risk with not one but 2 new laws against men's "rights" over their wives' bodies!

There's Alysanne, who took it a step further in her women's courts, and the right of first nigh abolishment, her attempts at the Citadel, & the Widow's Law. Again, if not for her, Westeros and KL would be 3 steps behind in infrastructure and women's protection. Alysanne was a Queen Consort who had even less power on her own than Rhaenys & Visenya and we see that she had to convince Jaehaerys to implement his laws; it took Septon Barth's interference/support for Jaehaerys to even go along with the abolishment of the right of first night! Later with Viserra, I believe that she arranged the much older Theomore to Viserra bc it coincided with Jaehaerys' plans for that marriage alliance between the Manderlys and the royal house. And to please or to go along with some of her husband's plans was to also add onto her own power…bc a royal Consort only has power by their monarch spouse gives them license to influence and status! Was it clumsy writing? Of course, it was pretty bizarre and partly due to how F&B is written as a historical document despite how this portion of history is better documented than others. Did Alysanne indirectly cause Viserra's death in her refusal to relent from her suspicion that Viserra was trying to become queen, as she interpreted it? Arguably. and I think that GRRM was telling us that over time and over the disappointments w/Jaehaerys, she slowly got more determined to retain any sense control…and where does her control end up coming from? Yeah, GRRM is showing that tightrope, I think.

Rhaenyra was not actively progressive in policy nor direct action as all the prior 3, but to argue that she should be feminist so that the usurpation and the femicide done against her becomes unjustified is absurd! Oh, she wasn't a feminist at all or progressive, she didn't implement any sort of law at all for women or smallfolk [did Aegon?! or Alicent?! or Aemond? Daeron, Otto?! so why are they better?!!!], so that's why she shouldn't be queen even though by the very "law of the land", she is by right the heir to this throne that never actually was about who would make a good, consummate ruler in the first place. 🙄.

So there is a vague & un-discernable, forever shifting, & impossible goal-post-level of feminist activity or "being" that these nihilistic or conservative naysayers use against women being leaders or even passively having positions of power that may still benefit the women of Westeros through setting a precedent &/or actions of necessary intervals that build on the past ones under conditions that are already limiting how much they can do or say in order to be able to put forth those feminist (really proto feminist), anti-slavery, etc., progressive steps--on a damn psychological and psychosocial level that:

diminishes how much brain power and time a woman can put to policy or things outside of the "house" because their power depends on the husband's regard towards them

makes it much harder for women to really commit themselves or fully expect to implement their goals & dreams for any sort of change (or even dream of any) when there's such subtle and unsubtle obstacles in their way: Rhaenyra, her stepmother an siblings plotting against her and then the usurpation, that we see in the microcosm of how the treasury stolen from her and the crown led to the smallfolk turning against her at KL AND the ongoing war, thus preventing her from really establishing herself as Queen/ruling at all; Alysanne, I described with Jaehaerys; Rhaenys, Andal patriarchy; much less, in Rhaena the Black Bride's case, find just actual happiness and plain old security against male aggression!

provides a setting where women become more compelled to compromise with some patriarchal ideas/practices to maintain a certain level of power or defense (there's a thing line to measure and transgress the "right way" and without other's judgement and impatience or lack of faith adds an additional pressure of, outside of fiction but applicable)

leads up to Daenerys having to have the strength to pursue her goals on with her own instincts and compassion and wit, work harder than most men would face in her position...not that any could since men cannot and have not largely had the bridal slave’s experience!

Anyway, all of it ignores or tries to hide the fact that it is exactly that undisrupted male authority over female (of any class or wealth) & under-classed people that is the true destabilizer and destroyer of lives. That there is still so much meaning and real impact in what people like Alysanne and Rhaenys did/do and huge upheavals or entire sweeps of structural change like Dany does takes measured steps!

That through multiple Targ women dying form childbirth, raped, murdered, or sidelined and critically limited in political authority or agency, this becomes so obvious! you cannot oppress half of your population, reduce them to sex-giving broodmares who you can kill if you think they have a male heir on the way or have cheated on you and call yourself progressive! You're actually 10 steps behind where you're supposed to be because half of you is not involved enough in the development of your society!

We wanna be all "feudalism is bad", "blood purity is bad", "the Targs didn't end feudalism so they are the most evil and responsible for all evil in Westeros" but when they see someone either passively or actively seem to make any progress to mitigate the pressures and power of patriarchal boundaries or concepts or whatever....they go screaming "not feminist enough" or "they're actually just like everyone else"! And some of us will also try to say that Daenerys is either entirely too much like her colonist ancestors or she will end up that way as D&D published because she is Targaryen (a bio-essentialist argument) to argue about why SLAVEOWNERS should stay in power!

And it all is very anti-intellectualism, anti-critical thought or introspection and examination...because on closer look and investigation, you will see how F&B is a text that was always anti-misogyny on GRRM's part (attemptively) even as it is misogynist as an-in world text! And it's on purpose--both the writing and how people wax "it's a dragon show, nothing at all to do with misogyny or wokeness!"

Because then you are not challenging the status quo...because you can't reason through it or against it and when it happens in seemingly harmless manifestations people will think it innocuous.

[ladystoneboobs]

A memory prodded at Theon. In one of his rare curt letters, Lord Balon had written of his youngest brother going down in a storm, and turning holy when he washed up safe on shore. -Theon I, aCoK

this little glimpse of balon/theon's strained long-distance relationship kinda fascinates me now. can't believe i'm going to defend balon as a father to theon in any way, however small, but i feel like hindsight has kinda blinded fandom into thinking balon gave up theon for dead and gone the moment he gave him away as hostage. this also carries the underlying assumption that balon was always going to rebel again making theon's life already forfeit to him.

thing is, while balon undoubtedly called his banners before theon came home, that also coincided with robert and ned both being recently dead, making that 2nd war seem really opportunistic. as if the only thing balon learned from his first rebellion was that king robert was strong enough to defeat him, the only man capable of defeating the great balon. so when that enemy dies, balon's crown is all but won in his mind, and with the death of ned too he could use his next war to take revenge on the (dead) man who took his son from him. maybe with robert's lifestyle he could have hoped to outlive him despite being older than robert, but robert and ned together? that must have seemed like a miraculous chance straight from the drowned god himself, a chance to rise up and take revenge that it was his duty to take for his people, even if it meant risking the life of his youngest child who'd been gone for 10 years anyway.

but before all that, even if robert being still alive was the real deterrant keeping him from warring again, he was, in effect, not only keeping theon safe by paying the hostage-ransom of keeping the peace, he was also keeping up a bare minimum connection with theon through rare and curt correspondence updating him on family events like aeron getting born again (and i'm assuming that's also how theon knew what asha's ship was named). idt we should so easily ignore that this is a society which views kinslaying as a grave offense regardless of circumstances or personal feelings, and one which greatly values male heirs over female heirs. i doubt balon was so much a feminist girldad that he just switched 12yo asha into the son slot right away as soon as all her brothers were lost. imo it was more likely a gradual process done not so consciously as asha proved herself worthy growing up and theon's time in the north stretched on and on. all until such point as asha had achieved son status and only son status at that, (maybe also coinciding with alannys leaving him so he had even less reason to keep up with her baby boy?), and then theon could be written off as belonging to the enemy, no longer ironborn or a son of balon, so sanctity of greyjoy life no longer applied to him. (real ironborn greyjoy son already killed by darth greenlander theon, from a certain point of view.) only then could balon be a not-father to theon, not welcoming him back home or even giving him a chance to prove his loyalty by providing intelligence on the northerners and the lands they were about to invade. (which could have made balon's war plans a touch less stupid. see, it all comes back to criticizing him in the end.)

in fact, come to think of it, i wonder if one thing ned and balon had in common is just not thinking of the danger of theon being executed as a hostage, not taking ownership of that possibility bc it hadn't happened yet. and hey, if it ever did come to that they could each tell themselves it would be the other guy's fault really, i was just doing my duty to my king/as a king to all my proud people. and that meant their actions didn't have to be obviously at odds with ned's view of himself as a good man opposed to killing children or balon's view of himself as great greyjoy patriarch and victim of the greenlanders (who could ofc prevail against them all if given the right chance).

[redrose10]

I hope everyone is enjoying the story. I do appreciate all the feedback! Here is Chapter 8. I feel like this one is going to create more questions than answers. Next chapter in a few days.

This chapter and the next one will touch on some darker subjects so I highlighted the specific trigger warning in red. In the story it’s not really detailed or any thing but I still wanted to make it known just in case.

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 3,608

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

You thought about going back in to speak with Yoongi but after what he did and what you said you decided it would be best to have some space for a while. After calming yourself down enough that you could finally breathe you headed over to Jimins. You sat on his couch clutching the photo album to your chest still sniffling every so often.

“Ahh I see he still gave you the gift.”, he said placing a bottle of water down in front of you.

“You knew about this?”, you asked wide eyed.

He took a seat next to you and began rubbing your back. “Yeah he came to me one day and asked if I had a way to contact anyone in your family. He’s been working on it for a couple months. When he finally got the book he was so excited. Seriously it was weird to see him like that. He was also so nervous to give it to you. He kept asking if I thought you’d like it or if you’d be mad or think it was weird that he did this. I don’t think he’s ever done something like this for anyone before.”

“Jimin he lied to me. He promised me he was changing and that he didn’t sleep with anyone and he slept with some woman named Suri last week.”, you said feeling the tears start up again.

“Did you hear his side of the story?”

“Seriously Jimin? He doesn’t exactly have the best history. I don’t have to hear his side of the story to know it happened.”

“Listen I’m not defending him and I can’t guarantee he didn’t do anything with her but I spend a lot of time with him and I’ve seen a big change in his ways. The way he thinks, the way he talks, the way he acts. I mean I caught the man watching a YouTube video on how to make homemade chocolate chip muffins. I just don’t think that he would do that to you any mo-.”

Before he could finish you stormed off to the spare room. The last thing you needed or wanted right now was for your best friend to try defending the man that intentionally hurt you.

The next morning you did apologize to Jimin for storming away like that. He was letting you live with him after all and you know he’s stuck in the middle between his two best friends so it puts him in a bad spot. Thankfully he was really understanding and didn’t take it to heart.

The weekend passed and Yoongi hadn’t tried to contact you once. Jimin took a couple days off from work the following week claiming to be sick but you figured Yoongi knew exactly why he did that. When Jimin did finally go to work and came home you asked if Yoongi had said anything.

“No he didn’t say anything at all. He’s acting completely normal.”, he said shaking his head.

“So he really didn’t mention anything about me or us or what happened?”

“He just asked if you were staying with me and I said yes. That was it.”

You could feel the tears start to well up again.

“Jimin, if he really did change and didn’t sleep with that woman and he loved me like he said he did, don’t you think he’d be fighting for me right now or doing anything to show me he didn’t do it?”

“Y/N, I think hes already accepted that he lost you and at this point he is just trying to get by. He’s never been the kind of person to chase after someone.” Jimin walked over and wrapped his arms around you.

You sniffled, “Jimin, the worst part of all is that I really started to believed him. I really thought he loved me and I loved him too.”

“I’m sorry Y/N. I know you don’t want to hear this but maybe you could try reaching out to him because I doubt he’ll ever come crawling back to you. But you guys do have to discuss this some time. You can’t just pretend nothing happened between the two of you.”

“I know. I’ll think about it. Thank you Jimin.”

Later that evening he knocked on your door carrying in a bowl of ramen. After you took a few bites he started to speak.

“So I hate to do this to you Y/N but I’ve just been informed that I have to go out of the country for a while. Maybe a couple weeks. Maybe a little longer. Depends on how it goes. I’m really sorry that I have to leave you like this.”

You shook your head, “No it’s okay. I understand. You have a job to do. I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself.”

“You are welcome to stay here as long as you need and I always have my phone on me.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

He gave you another hug before leaving you to finish off the rest of your dinner alone.

Jimin left the following morning and with him being gone now you were left to continue trying to heal alone. You saw the photo album sitting on the dresser and realized you never properly thanked Yoongi for the book. Even though things ended badly he could’ve kept the book and never told you he had it and threw it into a fire or something instead but he had the decency to give it to you. Maybe a tiny part of you also hoped it would force him to say something to you and the two of you could talk.

Throwing on some clothes you called for a car and traveled over to his office building. The receptionist greeted you with a smile, “Hello Mrs. Min. It’s been a while.”

“Yes it truly has. I hope you’re doing well.”She nodded and reached for the intercom, “Mr. Min you have a visitor.”A few moments later there was a beep, “Who is it Areum?”

You gave her a look that you hoped translated to please lie and don’t tell him it’s me or he’ll never let me in. Thankfully it seems she got the message as she reached for the intercom again, “One of your partners.” Not completely a lie on her part.

“Send them in.”

You nodded a thanks and walked down the hall to the large oak double doors. The room was surprisingly warm and inviting. Yoongi was sitting behind his desk reading over some paper work when you cleared your throat. He looked up at you before returning back to the papers.

“What do you want Y/N?”

Suddenly you felt nervous and you were starting to regret even going there.

“Umm I just wanted to come and thank you in person for the photo album. I do really appreciate it. No one has ever done anything like that for me before.”

“You’re welcome. Anything else?” He didn’t even look at you.

You got a sudden rush of confidence and decided to just go for it since it was clear he wasn’t going to bring it up.

“I just thought maybe we could talk about everything that happened?”

Yoongi scoffed, “So now you want to talk about things? Now you want to hear what I have to say?”

“Yoongi you have to understand and see it from my perspective. I was furious and hurt. At the time I didn’t think there would be any possible explanation that you could give me but I’ve had some time to think and I would like to hear your side of the story and then decide. Maybe we could figure out how to move forward together.”

He stood up and walked over to stand in front of you, so close you could smell his cologne. The familiar scent of cinnamon and vanilla making your stomach churn.

“I did understand Y/N. I knew it looked bad and how much that message hurt you. My heart broke just at the thought of you having to see that. That’s why I begged and pleaded with you to stay and give me a chance to explain.”

“I’m sorry Yoongi. I was hurt and scared and angry, but I want us to discuss this now.”

“Why does is matter any more Y/N? You said your peace the other day. If you’re always going to just assume the worst of me no matter what I do then what’s the point? Why should I even try to be better? You said it yourself, I’m unlovable. I’m not going to force you to into the miserable life that I’ve created for myself. We’ll go to public events together and pretend to be a happy loving husband and wife and then we’ll go our separate ways until we’re forced to meet again. Maybe you’ll meet someone who will love you like you deserve behind closed doors instead of just for show.”

Before you could speak he reached for the intercom, “Areum please come see Y/N out.”

A few seconds later she opened up the door smiling and gesturing for you to exit. Yoongi leaned up against the front of his desk with his arms crossed. The unreadable expression on his face made you want to cry.

“Oh Y/N before I forget.”

You spun around so fast you were dizzy.

“There’s a charity event happening next Saturday. We’re expected to attend together. A car will pick you up.”

He turned and walked back to his chair taking a seat without sparing you another look.

You quietly followed his secretary feeling the familiar burning sensation in your eyes as tears began to form.

Areum gave you a small smile before again gesturing towards the elevator doors.

“Can I get you a coffee or a bottle of water for the road Mrs. Min?”

Shaking your head you gave a small smile and headed towards the elevator. Once inside with the metal doors blocking you from view you finally let go of the tears you’d been holding in. You’ve never had someone in your life that could make you feel the way he did. One day you hate his existence and the next you’re pinning for him in ways you never thought you would.

You and Yoongi didn’t speak the rest of the week other than the one text you got telling you the details of the event.

When Saturday came around you couldn’t have been less excited if you tried. The thought of being around Yoongi while he ignored you made you want to cry so you weren’t sure how you were going to get through the night with him.

You walked down through the lobby to the waiting car. The driver greeted you before opening the door and helping you in. You stumbled a little when you saw Yoongi sitting in the seat next to you. You fully expected him to arrive separately but there he was.

The ride to the event was silent. Several times you attempted to bring yourself to speak but the words would never come out. The car finally pulled up to the Seoul Museum of Art where the event was being held and you were relieved to be able to get out of the suffocating car.

Once outside the vehicle the familiar feeling of dread hit when you saw all the cameras and droves of people. You jumped a little when Yoongi placed a hand on your lower back. He didn’t say anything but started guiding you up the stairs to enter the building. It was hard to decipher if he was doing this out of genuine concern for you knowing how uneasy the attention made you feel or just as a show for the photographers which made you want to cry even more. Once inside you expected him to run off but he stayed by your side although not speaking to you except to ask if you’d like a drink.

His father came up to you giving you a kiss on the cheek, “I just have to borrow your husband for a little bit. Don’t worry. I’ll return him in one piece.” You smiled and watched as the two walked off and you were left standing alone. You really wished Jimin was there with you but unfortunately he was still away on business so you stood off to the side trying to go unnoticed.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw a man eyeing you. You didn’t recognize him at all and the way he looked at you made you uncomfortable. You were scanning the room hoping to get a sighting of Yoongi or anyone that you knew when you heard a familiar voice.

“Hi Y/N, how have you been?”

“Oh my god, hi Namjoon! Why am I not surprised to see you here?”

“Well this is one of my favorite events of the year.”

You laughed, “Fair enough. How’s the new job going?”

“It’s not bad. I like the work. Just wish I didn’t have to move so far out of the city. You still taking lessons?”

“Yeah here and there. My new teacher isn’t as good though.”

He chuckled, “Well I was one of the best if I do say so myself.”

Playfully you rolled your eyes, “Always so humble Namjoon.”

“Come on Y/N. Let’s go get a drink.”

Noticing the strange man still staring at you from across the room you quickly agreed to follow Namjoon.

A bell rang through the venue signaling the auction was about to begin. Various pieces of art were set to be auctioned off with the proceeds being split between the museum and the local children’s hospital. Even though you wished to stay with Namjoon you knew it would be best for show to sit with your husband. Luckily you were able to easily find him sitting next to his parents. When you walked over you gave a small smile and he removed his suit coat from the seat he was saving for you. A small gesture that made your heart swell.

You happened to look a few rows behind you and you gasped. The same man from earlier was sitting right there staring at you once again. You told yourself it was all a coincidence but something still felt off. Yoongi gave you a questioning look but you ignored it and sat down instead, secretly happy to have him by your side.

The auction was interesting to say the least. You’d never been to one before and you’d be okay if you never went again. You watched as rich people spent a disgusting amount of money on various works of art just because they could. At least it was going to a good cause you thought.

“If there’s anything you want just go ahead and bid. I’m sure Yoongi here won’t mind.”, your mother in law said leaning over her son to get your attention.

“I’ll keep an eye out.”, you said politely knowing that Yoongi would definitely mind.

Through the night nothing really caught your eye anyways. There were a few beautiful pieces here and there but nothing you’d be willing spend that kind of money on. Then the auctioneer announced a one of a kind piece by a young up and coming artist named Hyunjin. You’d seen his work before as most of it included various flowers and this was no exception. A gorgeous water color painting of a large bouquet of blue hydrangeas with just a touch of sparkle when it caught the light just right. Instantly you knew you were going to try and get this one. Before you could even bid though the price shot up to 12 billion KRW. Your mouth dropped open. Even though it was technically Yoongi’s money you couldn’t bring yourself to spend that much on a painting. It did look beautiful though. You hoped that whomever purchased it would treasure it as much as you would.

“Going once, going twice, sold to the gentleman in the fifth row.”, you heard the auctioneer announce.

Feeling movement next to you is when you noticed Yoongi stand and walk down to the front to grab the ticket that he would use to claim the beautiful painting. When he walked back over he handed you the ticket and took his seat next to you without saying a word. You looked down at the ticket and smiled. He had bought the painting for you.

It was amazing how long these events lasted. You felt liked you’d been there for hours and you still had to get through dinner. Yoongi had excused himself and went to sit over at another table where he began talking about numbers and things. You noticed the same man from earlier sitting a few tables over with his eyes still on you as he sipped from a glass of whiskey. Feeling uncomfortable and suffocated you grabbed your clutch deciding you needed some fresh air so you exited through the front door. The cool air felt great. It felt refreshing. You were standing off to the side watching the various people move about when you felt a presence next to you. Peeking over to your right your heart skipped a beat. That same man from earlier was now standing right next to you. “How are you Y/N? I know that you’ve been noticing me all night. Why didn’t you come say hello?”, he asked. His voice nasally making your skin crawl like you just heard nails on a chalk board.

“You’re very beautiful Y/N. Yoongi is a very lucky man.”, he continued. Looking around for an escape you realized that you’d have to walk right past him to get back to the front entrance that you came out of which seemed like a bad choice being that he could easily grab you that way. Instead you decided to try walking around the building because surely there had to be another entrance a long the way. As you made your way around and you got further away from the hustle and bustle of the front entrance, things got quieter. You heard your heels on the cement but you could also hear footsteps behind you. Looking back you confirmed your fears. The walk to the back of the building was significantly longer than you had anticipated and you were really regretting your choice of shoes. You did your best to power walk without breaking an ankle.

Feeling more and more nervous you began reaching into your clutch to find your phone. You were going to call Yoongi or Namjoon or even your in-laws. Anyone to help. The man saw that as a distraction on your part and an excuse to quicken his step running up next to you just before you could turn the corner. He grabbed your arm quickly pinning you up against the cold brick of the building.

He was much larger than you. His cologne was strong and not pleasant, kind of like a wet dog ran threw a perfume factory. He saw you still scrolling through your phone so he grabbed it tossing the device on the ground. “Come on Y/N, we’re not going to do that now.”

“Seriously who are you and how do you know so much about me?”, you asked.

“That’s not important right this moment. What is important is that you let me get what I want without a fight?”

You scoffed, “Someone will come looking for me. They probably already are.”

The man laughed, “You mean Yoongi? Do you really think he cares about you? If he did then he wouldn’t have been cheating on you most of your marriage. He wouldn’t have been hooking up with Suri a week before your anniversary and lying to you about it. He’s probably got one of the waitresses bent over in a bathroom stall right now as we speak. He doesn’t care about you Y/N. Never has and never will.”

You could feel tears begin to form. The man placed his hands on your hips leaning in like he was going for a kiss. Quickly you turned your face away from him. He pulled you a little closer.

“Maybe that Namjoon might care about you from what I’ve heard but I’m sure he knows better than to cross that boundary.”

You continue to try and wiggle free but he had a hard grip on you.

“Please just stop. Let me go.”

“I don’t think so sweetheart. I’ve wanted this for a long time and the fact that you are Yoongi’s is going to make this that much sweeter.”

The man kissed your cheek then your neck. You tried to push him away but he had moved his hands to grip your wrists.

You had your eyes screwed shut so you didn’t even see or feel anyone else come up to the two of you but you heard a loud deep voice speak which startled you,

“Get the fuck away from her.”

“Yeah or what?”

No words were spoken after that but you flinched when the man suddenly fell to the ground after taking a hard punch to the side of his face. You looked down at the unconscious man before turning your attention over to the person that threw the punch.

You stared at him your mouth open in shock, “What are you doing here?”

[fvckinaphrodite]

I cannot understand the rationale of "Good Stepmother Elia" or "Catelyn loves Jon Snow" fics where, because of the patriarchal and oppressive institutions, Elia and Catelyn are forced to live with their cheating husbands and, are expected to raise their husband's bastard born out of the infidelity that could pose a risk to their children's inheritance. I love Jon, but Catelyn's hesitance regarding him was valid. He wasn't a son, and he was the source of insurmountable shame to her.

I couldn't have put it better myself, honestly. Those fics disgust me. I find them disturbing and repulsive with the way they turn Catelyn and Elia into Jon's cheerleaders LMAO AS IF. I'm sorry but some of these authors just love to turn every female character in ASOIAF into plot devices for Jon's story.

You will not believe how many fics I've read in which Robb always insists to push both Sansa and Arya further down the inheritance line, and the Northern lords and ladies just nod along and agree like a bunch of baboons and how Catelyn just have to suck it all up. Sometimes there is even a fic or two where Sansa insists that Robb points Jon as his heir to mark her so-called "development" when the narrative brings her to the Riverlands after escaping King's Landing, and in the process, ruining a mother-daughter relationship forever. Guess what's gonna happen? Yep. Robb dies and Jon becomes king with Sansa as his ever faithful advisor. Sometimes even Sansa is pushed away from the North and decides to stay in the South because Gods forbid she ever touch the Northern throne again. Lmao.

Or, you know, the favorite of all Rhaegar Wins AU, fics where Jon becomes the next king after Rhaegar because Aegon is gay and conveniently doesn't want the Iron Throne🥺

I'm a Jonsa stan. I love me some fics with angst; Sansa's struggle to overcome the fact that Jon's existence hurts Catelyn, etc. But there's a line for everything. For example, I fucking refuse to read Jonsa fics where Catelyn is so demonized one would think she constantly beat him when he's a child or told him to become a servant or a stable boy or something. And of course, Sansa gonna defend him with her whole chest and worships the ground he walks on. Lmao Unbelievable. What a way to degrade a female character, to turn her into a plot device--a cheerleader for their hero. Well done.

[erendur]

Crack Silm relationships I'd like to read about

It would completely ruin the story and Jirt’s intents, structure, motifs and characters, but at least I could read the Silm without going “No, not the ruin of Beleriand again ! Ah, no, please, not the third Kinslaying, I can’t !”.

Maedhros and Lúthien.

He has trauma, looks much the worse for wear after his captivity, and would definitely piss off her dad as a choice of boyfriend (rebel teenage Lúthien energy). She is the most beautiful (self-explanatory), a unique type of Elf-Maia being (Noldor like novelty and are curious), spends a lot of time singing which I guess would foster a sense of comforting familiarity in one wounded not just in body but also in mind ?

Anyway, they could have a great Wounded Beast who Swore a Stupid Oath and Committed Some Crimes and Eldricht Beauty I Can Fix Him dynamic.

They both hang out in forests enough that they could easily meet. She would take him of a stealth mission to steal the Silmarils. He would borrow his brother’s knives (one knife per Silmaril), and they would be successful. Huan could give a hand out of family solidarity. Morgoth would be to stunned/ashamed/doesn’t really like to move his ass from his throne anyway so nothing much would happen immediately. They would still be at war and Morgoth would make more monsters and bid his time.

Lúthien could wear the three Silmarils on a crown. Maedhros would be very happy and proud. She is canonically the prettiest Elf ever and he is “well formed” so they could have the prettiest babies. And actually, and I’m very aware that is not at all how genetics work, but they would have Lúthien’s canonical descendants as their babies. That’s 7 of them, which sounds like an adequate number of sprogs for a Fëanorian (no need to change the family sigil !).

Eärendil and Elwing would be the elder, a twin brother and sister. At some point in their teens (Elvish teens, they’re in their thirties), they decide to take a Silmaril from their mother’s jewellery box and to go on their own little stealth mission to save the world, after having spend too much time with their Uncle Fingon. Since Elwing is very eldrichty and can change into birds, and Eärendil can (check note) make boats, the missions is of course a total success. Guided by the light of the Silmaril, they eventually land on the shores of Valinor where they immediately start singing a moving song about the plight of Middle Earth. Eärendil accompanies the song by playing Fingon’s harp (he knows how stealth missions work and of course took Fingon’s silver great harp along with his mother’s jewellery), Elwing leads a chorus of seabirds at key moments.

The Valar are of course moved (have we mentioned how pretty they both look ???), they send an army to Middle-Earth, Eärendil and Elwing are given the right to spend their life travelling between Middle-Earth and Valinor by the Valar as a reward. Eärendil choses to do the trips in the sky on his boat (because he can), his mum’s Silmaril on his forehead, the shadow of Fingon's harp clearly visible against the light of the Silmaril. The Fëanorians are totally cool with it, since he is himself a Fëanorian.

Elwing eventually settles in Tol Eressëa where she becomes Queen of the returned Elves, and therefore beats her Aunt Galadriel to the post by about an age at being the first reigning female ruler among the Elves.

Dior would be kept well away from making any sort of political decision. Given his clearly incredible fighting talents though, he would either end up being Celegorms’ favourite nephew and heir, or, my favourite version, he would take over the cavalry and the Gap from Maglor, who would be able to finally go chill somewhere and write some music.

Elured and Elurin would eventually inherit Doriath, just because. Or they would go and live a wild life of hunting and hanging out in the forest with their uncles Ambarussa. They’re still twins.

Elros and Elrond are obviously still twins as well. They are born very shortly after Elured and Elurin, and since that’s a lot of eldricht peredhil twins to have under just one roof (just the weather is wild, people are begging Mae to do something about it), they are given to foster to another family member as per Victorian family traditions. This family member is, of course, Maglor, who doesn’t really get to chill for very long after all. Since he’s no longer in charge of the cavalry or a super-hard-to-defend position, he raises the twins.

Elros of course is now an Elf-Maia peredhel, and doesn’t have to die. He still founds Númenor and becomes their king, because someone with the gift of prescience finally used it for something useful and figured out that these guys could really do with a wise, immortal ruler, who wouldn’t, you know, suddenly decide to go and invade Valinor once he finds the burden of mortality too hard to bear. Elendil is his son. Isildur his grandson. He is kept well away from rings.

Elrond is pretty much the same, but with less people around him having died/disappeared/been killed. But he’s too awesome to be different. He’s still the same “kind as summer” dude. He becomes his father’s heir, because he’s just too awesome. Everybody thinks it’s a great choice, because he is too awesome. He’s bestie with his cousin Gil-Galad, the High King. 

That turned out to be a longer post than intended so I’ll post the rest later.

[ask-sister-solaris]

Don’t you forget about your friend death

Warning ⚠️: mentions of miscarriage and infertility, angsty as fuck, language, RHRN content, gore (kind) buckle up buttercup this is one hell of an angsty ride

Hella angsty under the cut

(A/N: Technically a long winded way to introduce my oc. Mega angsty to. Please let me know if you want a part 2!)

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Copia x female!reader

Tonight. Tonight! Possibly the last night he would perform as Papa. The last time he would see the adoring faces of his fans, the last time he would…step foot onstage outside the clergy halls. Even as the crowd cheered and screamed as the curtain dropped, as his ghouls began to play and his voice rung out across the stadium, nothing could help him.

Meanwhile, backstage you were sat with Imperator. You were Copias Prime Mover, and with such an important role to the ministry, you were required to accompany Copia on his tours, and hopefully produce an Emeritus Heir. It was deadly important to Imperator (and maybe Nihil) that you produced an heir.

That’s why you were so excited and eager at the beginning of this Re-Imperatour. You had just found out you were pregnant!

Were

Imperator refused to tell The Clergy of your little…accident, and tried to encourage you and Copia to try again. That this time the baby would survive. Survive? Wasn’t a babies job to be born. Not fight for their lives? You resented the woman next to you, not understanding how Copia could call her mother.

Small, forced smiles were given to Copia as he flitted between backstage and the stage for costume changes. Often engaging in your book when he came over to speak to Imperator. Finding comfort in old satanic tales, like you were a child again.

It had been so many months ago, you’d woken up a bloody mess the hotel sheets sticky and red. You screamed for help, begging someone, anyone to save your baby.

But nobody came.

That moment has been a living nightmare. And Copia knew it. He’d only just gotten back from a ritual when he heard screaming. Sodo was the first to sniff out the blood, followed by Mountain. Cumulus and Aurora knew what had happened before they’d reached the room. The ghoulettes sympathized with you, though they’d never had children themselves. The idea of losing someone, they’d experienced that first hand, at the hands of Sister Imperator.

As doctors cleaned you up and the two ghoulettes stayed by your side, you sobbed into them. Begging them to save your child. Your weak, innocent, barely alive child. Cumulus held you and stroked your hair, whispering how it was going to be okay, and Aurora helped you focus on breathing.

And where was Copia? Reporting the loss of the heir to his mother. But the poor man had no idea what to do! He was not mentally equipped to help her, At least not with this. You knew it, you were fully aware that Copia had never dealt with someone elses grief, he had barely coped when his Fratellos had been killed.

As you sat watching Copia on the monitors, a twinge of regret bubbled up inside of you. Your been avoiding him, grieving the loss of your child and yet you’d never stopped to think about how Copia felt. The ritual edged closer and closer to its end, the end. As Mr Saltarian would have said. As he came backstage and changed into his iconic sparkly blue jacket, you decided to go speak to him.

“Copia..”

“Hm si cara mia?”

That nickname…that nickname he only ever called you. The one that made your heart melt, the one that gave you butterflies whenever her call out to you through the Ministry hallways. Tears welled up in your eyes as you took his spare hand.

“Please…don’t leave me..I cannot lose you to”

Copias eyes widened. Why would he leave you? Surely you didn’t blame yourself…did you? No that couldn’t be correct…his heart shattered seeing you in tears, brushing off the worker, muttering a ‘fuck it no encore’ as he held you and began walking to his more secluded dressing room. Or he would have, hadn’t his mother called him back.

“Go wait for me cara mia, I’ll be there soon”

Without arguing you went to his private dressing room and sat on the plush sofa. The sound of music started up again, he was doing an encore…You knew he would. That was the copia you knew and loved..though he could be childish and…silly. But you loved that about him. He wasn’t as serious as the other Papas (well minus Terzo..) though he could be quite childish at times.

A hand rested on your now flat stomach, a single tear running down your cheek. You could no longer provide the heir he needed. The child he wanted. After your little…accident doctors had heavily suggested that you have your reproductive organs removed, as it was a high risk of infection. You never found out why either.

Why it had to be you.

Why you had lost your baby.

Why you had miscarried.

Why Imperator called it an accident.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by worried clamor outside. Stepping out, you saw the ghouls surrounding Imperator, who was on the floor. But your attention was soon redirected to him. Copia, your papa, your lover…your rock.

You rushed over and helped him up, looking over at Imperator. So she’d gone to… Wht were they losing everyone, even if she didn’t like the old woman, she meant so much to Copia.

“Cara Mia…”

“It’s okay now. I’m here”

Your voice is just as low as his. Shakier to. So much death, was he truly their friend? Or was he a foe now. With fans dispersed, Imperators body was moved to the pit of the venue on a stretcher and covered gently by Copia. He sobbed over her body and you couldn’t do anything but watch.

You couldn’t do anything but watch.

Couldn’t do anything but watch

You didn’t do anything but watch.

You knelt beside Copia as Saltarian handed him a letter, from the woman herself. So she’d been dying for awhile. Your heart nearly did a backflip as Copia read out the words.

“Frater Imperator?”

Frater..

Would he need her anymore?

“Cara Mia…we can finally relax…we can find someone to help us..with our journey of having a family…”

He gently rested a hand on the small of your back as he hugged you close. Yes. He would need her. And she needed him. Like two pieces in a puzzle that fit perfectly together. But who would be the new papa?

A few months had passed, and the new Papa was due. You stood beside a very smartly dressed Copia, fussing over his suit and bejeweled Grucifix. Even as ghosts, Imperator and Nihil tried working their way into Copias decisions, so you were pleasantly surprised when he stood up for himself.

A silhouette of a person appeared in the clergy doorway. The stained, frosted glass concealing most of their features. It was obvious they had already been bequeathed with their new Papal robes. Given the shape of what Copia assumed to be a mitre. As the doors swung open, what they revealed shocked you, Copia and the ghosts of his parents.

“The new papa…is…a woman?”