#Ser Prudente

[lesbiano-idiota2]

Después de la remil re puteada que me dio una psicologa por haber abandonado la medicacion y estar como un mono enloquecido dursnte 3 meses es momento de que vaya a recargar baterias a la farmacia!!!!1!111

[bocadosdefilosofia]

«La virtud es, por tanto, un hábito selectivo, consistente en una posición intermedia para nosotros, determinada por la razón y tal como la determinaría el hombre prudente. Posición intermedia entre dos vicios, el uno por exceso y el otro por defecto. Y así, unos vicios pecan por defecto y otros por exceso de lo debido en las pasiones y en las acciones, mientras que la virtud encuentra y elige el término medio. Por lo cual, según su sustancia y la definición que expresa su esencia, la virtud es medio, pero desde el punto de vista de la perfección y del bien, es extremo.»

Aristóteles: Ética nicomaquea. Universidad Autónoma de México, págs. 38-39. México, 2012.

TGO

@bocadosdefilosofia

@dias-de-la-ira-1

[malkaviian]

volviendo a escuchar esta canción

sí me da algo de vibes skyler/matt, ah

[kingsmoot]

hi! im not sure if you’ve spoken about this before but would be so interested to hear your thoughts on the dynamic between ramsay and the original reek? like the combined matters of reek already being a serial rapist and murderer before he even meets ramsay, the abject weirdness of an adult man being best friends with a child/preteen, and the fact that ramsay names his torture victim after reek despite no indication that he ever tortured the original reek? i always felt george was hinting at some kind of cycle of abuse thing with the whole “who corrupted who” line. anyway sorry this ask is so long but i love your analysis and would really like to hear what you think!

hello 🩷❤️🖤 firstly thank you for your kind words!! i have spoken about this before, but i'm happy to speak about it again, ty for your interest! i'm honestly a little surprised this is such an underdiscussed topic in general!! but not too surprised.

in short: yes. i completely agree with you. from my reading of the text it is obvious that reek was sexually abusing ramsay. i've made a few posts about it:

1. most plainly here

2. and i also touched on it here where i talked about ramsay's mama willingly and purposefully putting him in danger

I went through asearchoficeandfire and pulled every mention of reek i, the manservant that roose gifted to ramsay, so let's go through them all together

the rest is under the cut for discussion of child abuse, endangerment, neglect, and csa, as well as rape and necrophilia

there are three "reeks" in the text. reek, the manservant that roose bolton gave to ramsay and his mother. reek, who is ramsay in disguise in winterfell. and reek, who is the tortured remains of theon greyjoy. to keep things simpler and easier to follow i am only going to call these three people reek, ramsay, and theon, ignoring who might have been called "reek" at what time.

"Lord Bolton has never acknowledged the boy, so far as I know," Ser Rodrik said. "I confess, I do not know him." "Few do," [Lady Hornwood] replied. "He lived with his mother until two years past, when young Domeric died and left Bolton without an heir. That was when he brought his bastard to the Dreadfort. The boy is a sly creature by all accounts, and he has a servant who is almost as cruel as he is. Reek, they call the man. It's said he never bathes. They hunt together, the Bastard and this Reek, and not for deer. I've heard tales, things I can scarce believe, even of a Bolton. And now that my lord husband and my sweet son have gone to the gods, the Bastard looks at my lands hungrily." Bran wanted to give the lady a hundred men to defend her rights, but Ser Rodrik only said, "He may look, but should he do more I promise you there will be dire retribution. You will be safe enough, my lady . . . though perhaps in time, when your grief is passed, you may find it prudent to wed again."

acok, bran ii

this is the first we hear of reek and ramsay, and it's notable that they've only been over at the dreadfort + its surrounding lands for two years now. we learn later in adwd that reek and ramsay have been together since ramsay was a child, but they were living in weeping water with ramsay's mother

It was a few days after Alebelly's bath that Ser Rodrik returned to Winterfell with his prisoner, a fleshy young man with fat moist lips and long hair who smelled like a privy, even worse than Alebelly had. "Reek, he's called," Hayhead said when Bran asked who it was. "I never heard his true name. He served the Bastard of Bolton and helped him murder Lady Hornwood, they say." The Bastard himself was dead, Bran learned that evening over supper. Ser Rodrik's men had caught him on Hornwood land doing something horrible (Bran wasn't quite sure what, but it seemed to be something you did without your clothes) and shot him down with arrows as he tried to ride away. They came too late for poor Lady Hornwood, though. After their wedding, the Bastard had locked her in a tower and neglected to feed her. Bran had heard men saying that when Ser Rodrik had smashed down the door he found her with her mouth all bloody and her fingers chewed off.

acok, bran v

the above is referencing ramsay, of course, disguised as reek. here we have the account of how ramsay and reek were caught on lady hornwood's lands after they had kidnapped and raped her from the stark perspective (and filtered through bran's 7-year-old perspective as well) but a little later on we hear it straight from the bastard's mouth:

"Aye, but [Ser Rodrick] thought us friends. A common mistake. When the old fool gave me his hand, I took half his arm instead. Then I let him see my face." The man put both hands to his helm and lifted it off his head, holding it in the crook of his arm. "Reek," Theon said, disquieted. How did a serving man get such fine armor? The man laughed. "The wretch is dead." He stepped closer. "The girl's fault. If she had not run so far, his horse would not have lamed, and we might have been able to flee. I gave him mine when I saw the riders from the ridge. I was done with her by then, and he liked to take his turn while they were still warm. I had to pull him off her and shove my clothes into his hands—calfskin boots and velvet doublet, silver-chased swordbelt, even my sable cloak. Ride for the Dreadfort, I told him, bring all the help you can. Take my horse, he's swifter, and here, wear the ring my father gave me, so they'll know you came from me. He'd learned better than to question me. By the time they put that arrow through his back, I'd smeared myself with the girl's filth and dressed in his rags. They might have hanged me anyway, but it was the only chance I saw." He rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth. "And now, my sweet prince, there was a woman promised me, if I brought two hundred men. Well, I brought three times as many, and no green boys nor fieldhands neither, but my father's own garrison."

acok, theon vi

ok just a quick pause i LOVE ramsay's little monologue here it's SO CRAZY GOOD it's so good it's so

like telling theon to his face "aye, but he thought us friends. a common mistake." is CRAZY. it's so good!!!! after so many chapters of build up too the whole thing feels like being nailed down to a chair and put in thumb screw and every time there's a new bran or theon chapter they're tightened just a half-turn before this reveal where your thumbs are sliced clean off by a scimitar IT'S SO GOOD RRAUUUGHHH

sorry i got distracted. this li'l bit is interesting because it sets ramsay up as In Charge. he calls the shots. "[Reek]'d learned better than to question me," he says, and he sacrifices reek to the stark riders to save his own skin. the way ramsay tells this story sets reek up as disposable and submissive. a servant who is below ramsay's station, defers to him, gives obeisance, and gives his life for his master. (notable as well that this is not Lady Hornwood who they are raping the corpse of, but an anonymous northern girl, likely one of the smallfolk who live by and/or in the Hornwood keep)

ramsay's language here also makes it clear that this is habitual for him and reek. he likes to hunt girls, rape them, and kill them, and reek likes to fuck their corpses before they've cooled. romance. this was established somewhat back in bran ii when lady hornwood first introduced the pair, but we now have it straight from ramsay's mouth that this is their habitual game.

"I knew the first Reek. He stank, though not for want of washing. I have never known a cleaner creature, truth be told. He bathed thrice a day and wore flowers in his hair as if he were a maiden. Once, when my second wife was still alive, he was caught stealing scent from her bedchamber. I had him whipped for that, a dozen lashes. Even his blood smelled wrong. The next year he tried it again. This time he drank the perfume and almost died of it. It made no matter. The smell was something he was born with. A curse, the smallfolk said. The gods had made him stink so that men would know his soul was rotting. My old maester insisted it was a sign of sickness, yet the boy was otherwise as strong as a young bull. No one could stand to be near him, so he slept with the pigs … until the day that Ramsay's mother appeared at my gates to demand that I provide a servant for my bastard, who was growing up wild and unruly. I gave her Reek. It was meant to be amusing, but he and Ramsay became inseparable. I do wonder, though … was it Ramsay who corrupted Reek, or Reek Ramsay?" His lordship glanced at the new Reek with eyes as pale and strange as two white moons. "What was he whispering whilst he unchained you?"

adwd, reek iii

the above comes two books later, and now that we've gotten lady hornwood's perspective (and this is a perspective that comes from the general northern grapevine of people who live between winterfell and the dreadfort) and ramsay's perspective (which we will soon learn to doubt) we get roose's.

it's interesting too, i had always pictured reek as a grown adult man, but my friend @wormlips pointed out to me recently that roose does call him a "boy" in the above passage. i think i always pictured him as an older man partially since theon is transformed through his year of torture in an abandoned shipping container into an old man. i had just always made the logical leap that in addition to making theon smell terrible so that he is more similar to reek, purposefully torturing and starving him and turning him into a bent old man was also to emulate reek. to recreate him in a way. so i have always pictured him as being WAY older than ramsay, like rams is between seven and ten and reek is like... forty five. but wormie also pointed out that drinking perfume seems like a childish thing to do. i can see the sense in their reading of it! i have personally never pictured the two of them as being close in age, but rather ramsay as a child and reek as an old(er) man. i think the two incidents of reek stealing perfume might have happened when he was young but that he was an adult by the time ramsay's mother came to the dreadfort to ask for a serving man.

it's interesting also that roose implies with his question of who corrupted who that reek was not a serial rapist + murderer before he was given to ramsay. but idfk about that. the thing is that all of these people are unreliable narrators, so it's kind of a murky picture of a purposefully obscured past.

it doesn't make sense to me that the smallfolk would claim the gods cursed reek to "stink so that men would know his soul was rotting" if he wasn't already murdering and/or raping girls or defiling corpses. why would that be how they explained his smell if he was just a normal guy with a medical condition?

it's possible that roose only gave reek to ramsay and his mother because of his smell. because ramsay's mother wanted him to give them a servant to help her raise the boy so roose gave her one who smelled like an open grave being used as a latrine. but that doesn't seem like the kind of joke roose bolton would play. not to me! roose giving the troublesome mother of his rapebaby a man with a proven history of horrible violence? that seems like the kind of joke roose bolton would play. to me.

also reek and ramsay becoming "inseparable" reads as far less sinister if you picture them being the same age. i do not.

another point to reek being significantly older is that it wouldn't make sense for roose to send a child over to a woman who was asking for childcare support. even if he did, she'd send him back. he couldn't do any more work around the mill than ramsay could if they were both children, he would just be an extra mouth to feed. so even if he isn't quadrouple ramsay's age like i'm picturing him, he would definitely be older. like 16-7 at minimum i think.

to your point about cycles of violence, i would say that ramsay's entire existence as a character is about cycles of violence. the cycles are certainly cycling!!! but that's not exactly what i get from this particular snippet. i take roose's question about whether reek corrupted ramsay or ramsay reek in the same way i take his telling ramsay that his way has always been in favor of "a peaceful rule and a quiet people". he's full of shit!!!

my reading of it is that rams was obviously already a violent child. maybe he was killing animals, hurting his mother, hurting his fellow children. but he was a child. and reek was an adult man with a history of violence towards others. that violence isn't explicitly stated in the text but i think if the smallfolk were saying that his soul was rotting then it had to be pretty bad. i interpret this as reek already being a rapist and serial killer before he ever met ramsay (which is your reading too!).

"Has my bastard ever told you how I got him?" That [Theon] did know, to his relief. "Yes, my … m'lord. You met his mother whilst out riding and were smitten by her beauty." "Smitten?" Bolton laughed. "Did he use that word? Why, the boy has a singer's soul … though if you believe that song, you may well be dimmer than the first Reek. Even the riding part is wrong. I was hunting a fox along the Weeping Water when I chanced upon a mill and saw a young woman washing clothes in the stream. The old miller had gotten himself a new young wife, a girl not half his age. She was a tall, willowy creature, very healthy-looking. Long legs and small firm breasts, like two ripe plums. Pretty, in a common sort of way. The moment that I set eyes on her I wanted her. Such was my due. The maesters will tell you that King Jaehaerys abolished the lord's right to the first night to appease his shrewish queen, but where the old gods rule, old customs linger. The Umbers keep the first night too, deny it as they may. Certain of the mountain clans as well, and on Skagos … well, only heart trees ever see half of what they do on Skagos. "This miller's marriage had been performed without my leave or knowledge. The man had cheated me. So I had him hanged, and claimed my rights beneath the tree where he was swaying. If truth be told, the wench was hardly worth the rope. The fox escaped as well, and on our way back to the Dreadfort my favorite courser came up lame, so all in all it was a dismal day.

adwd, reek iii

the above always sends a chill down my spine... "a peaceful rule. a quiet people. that has always been my way. make it yours." you delusional lying bastard 🩷🩷🩷

this passage is notable as well because it shows us that rams is an unreliable narrator. it's not the first time either!!

Ramsay was clad in black and pink—black boots, black belt and scabbard, black leather jerkin over a pink velvet doublet slashed with dark red satin. In his right ear gleamed a garnet cut in the shape of a drop of blood. Yet for all the splendor of his garb, he remained an ugly man, big-boned and slope-shouldered, with a fleshiness to him that suggested that in later life he would run to fat. His skin was pink and blotchy, his nose broad, his mouth small, his hair long and dark and dry. His lips were wide and meaty, but the thing men noticed first about him were his eyes. He had his lord father's eyes—small, close-set, queerly pale. Ghost grey, some men called the shade, but in truth his eyes were all but colorless, like two chips of dirty ice. At the sight of Reek, he smiled a wet-lipped smile. "There he is. My sour old friend." To the men beside him he said, "Reek has been with me since I was a boy. My lord father gave him to me as a token of his love."

adwd, reek i

ah, but that's not true, is it, rams? your father gave him to you as a jest, to spite you and your mother. he was given to you both to harm you and it is a quirky little miracle that he ended up harming others with you instead.

rams tells himself and other stories about how he was welcomed into his father's house and beloved by him. how his mother was a great beauty who his father was in love with. and it's all lies. all dust upon the air.

i'll also note that roose describes reek as being "dim". i don't think there's much truth to that tbh. i think roose is proven time and again to view all the smallfolks as dumber than him. beneath him and mostly inhuman. this is really well defined in arya's acok chapters when she serves as his cup bearer and she is totally invisible to him.

"A fine rule, m'lord." "The woman disobeyed me, though. You see what Ramsay is. She made him, her and Reek, always whispering in his ear about his rights. He should have been content to grind corn. Does he truly think that he can ever rule the north?"

adwd, reek iii

[ALICENT HIGHTOWER VOICE] AND AEMOND... YOU KNOW WHAT AEMOND IS.

this btw is where my characterization of ramsay's mama really takes root. i think it's obvious enough what she was doing without this explicit confirmation from roose, especially with how ramsay acts and how he speaks about himself. but this is the crux of it. she had everything taken from her. her husband murdered and her raped under his still-warm corpse. and then she carried her pregnancy to term in the hopes that the gods would grant her a boy who could be given a place in the world that she never could be.

to me this is where the cycles start cycling. not with reek and ramsay, but with a desperate, violated, brutalized woman giving her son back to her rapist and insisting that he claim him. like, if she were... i'm not certain that i would call her a "Good Victim" for doing this but she could have aborted her pregnancy. tried to rebuild her life now that her husband was dead and she was physically brutalized. aboritcides are plentiful in westeros. or if she wanted to keep her pregnancy to term she could have lived the rest of her quiet life with her child in weeping waters in the shadow of the dreadfort. and she could have kept her son far from the leech lord who brutalized her.

but she didn't!!!!!!!! she shoved that baby right into the wide open razor toothed mouth of the monster who brutalized her!!! she knew exactly what kind of man lord roose bolton was and she was determined to get her child recognized by him and taken into his fold.

i love that rams is like... a personification of her all consuming rage as well as a personification of his father's brutality. it's great.

"He fights for you," Reek blurted out. "He's strong." "Bulls are strong. Bears. I have seen my bastard fight. He is not entirely to blame. Reek was his tutor, the first Reek, and Reek was never trained at arms. Ramsay is ferocious, I will grant you, but he swings that sword like a butcher hacking meat."

adwd, reek iii

further evidence of reek being significantly older than ramsay! a child would not tutor another child. further evidence also that reek was already a brutally violent man before he and rams started playing the most dangerous game in the woods. he taught ramsay how to hack people apart with a broadsword.

also calling reek ramsay's "tutor" here reinforces to me that their relationship was inappropriate. odd for a young child and his teacher to be "inseparable".

"He's not afraid of anyone, m'lord." "He should be. Fear is what keeps a man alive in this world of treachery and deceit. Even here in Barrowton the crows are circling, waiting to feast upon our flesh. The Cerwyns and the Tallharts are not to be relied on, my fat friend Lord Wyman plots betrayal, and Whoresbane … the Umbers may seem simple, but they are not without a certain low cunning. Ramsay should fear them all, as I do. The next time you see him, tell him that." "Tell him … tell him to be afraid?" Reek felt ill at the very thought of it. "M'lord, I … if I did that, he'd …" "I know." Lord Bolton sighed. "His blood is bad. He needs to be leeched. The leeches suck away the bad blood, all the rage and pain. No man can think so full of anger. Ramsay, though … his tainted blood would poison even leeches, I fear."

adwd reek iii

aaaaaaaaand back to ramsay's bad blood. "I had him whipped for that, a dozen lashes. Even his blood smelled wrong." :> where did all the bad blood come from, i wonder? his sire perhaps?

i love roose describing rams as full of anger. that's his mama's anger 🩷 calcified by roose's rejection of him and his refusal to accept this. spurred on by reek's proclivities and by reek's own rejection by his liege lord. just a horrible layer cake of brutality and violence and abuse.

that's all the quotes i have for you!!!

to me it is obvious from the above text that reek sexually abused ramsay as a child. possibly when he got older and bigger and stronger and reek was a much much older man, smaller and frailer, he really was meek and obedient to ramsay. but it didn't start out that way. his tutor would not behave with deference towards him. the man who taught him how to hack meat apart with a broadsword and how to hunt women through the woods before skinning them was not... subservient to him.

the closeness between them is suspect just because of their age difference and further suspect because of who reek is and what he does.

i also think that ramsay would never see this as sexual abuse. i think ramsay and theon have exactly the same frame of mind here where it isn't possible for them to be sexually abused or taken advantage of because they're men and that doesn't happen to men.

it's obvious that ramsay thinks of his relationship with reek fondly. fondly enough that he tells people reek was a token of his father's love. fondly enough that he creates a new reek for himself after the first one dies.

to your point about ramsay torturing theon into his reek when he never tortured reek, i do read part of that as revenge. like a sort of inversion of what was done unto him. i don't think that reek tortured ramsay the way ramsay tortures theon! but i do think he assaulted him. a major theme with ramsay is the playing of parts (a theme intensified and continued when jeyne is brought to winterfell as arya) so i see his sexual abuse and torture of theon as an inversion of what reek did to him.

i mean, i think ramsay tortures theon for other personal reasons. like resenting his beauty, his status as a lord's legitimate son, and the way he treated him in winterfell when he took it over. and just because he's a sadist who likes torturing people to get off. but also i like to think that it was an inversion of what reek did to him.

i'm unsurprised also that this isn't really talked about because the asoiaf fandom in general loves to say that the cycles are cycling but hates to admit that the evil monstrous characters who hurt people were also hurt themselves. so it's like bad fandom politics to say that ramsay bolton, who is a serial killing serial rapist, was also raped as a child. and put into situations with people he never should have been in because he was a child.

this is way too long it's way too many words it took me like the whole day to write it!!! i hope you read it to the end and don't get bored!!! thank you for your question mwah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[baby-girl-aaron-dessner]

The role of women in criticising men for their moral failings in the name of “strength” is increasingly prevalent in this week’s episode of HotD:

Rhaenyra & the Black Council:

We start with Ser Alfred continuing to undermine Rhaenyra during a council meeting. While speaking about Rhaenyra in the same condescending way he usually does, he says, “It is merely that the gentler sex, heretofore, has not been much privy to the strategies of battle, or their execution.” Rhaenyra has to then remind him and her council of men about their shared inexperience with battle: “There has been peace in our lifetime. You've seen no more battles than I have.”

As Rhaenyra says to Mysaria, her small council speaks “around” her, not “to” her. Mysaria points out that by dismissing Rhaenyra because they view her as a “gentle” woman, it reveals how the men “betray their own smallness”.

This idea that women are “gentle” and therefore, weak ties to when Rhaenyra said, “there are those who have mistaken my caution for weakness. Let that be their undoing.”

Alicent & the Green Council:

Like Rhaenyra, Alicent isn’t taken seriously by the men around her. She urges the small council to choose her over Aemond as regent because Aemond’s “lack of restraint” has “cost [them] dearly”. Out of the men at the council, only one of them supports her. This happens to be the most knowledgeable member of the council - Maester Orwyle. He backs Alicents reasoning, “It is experience that offers the surest path to security. Queen Alicent ably shouldered the duties of the realm when her husband's health failed him.” The rest of the council refuse her case based on the fact that she’s a woman. Again, the idea of “strength” is used to justify the actions of men. The council asserts that this is “a time when [they] must show strength.”

This ties back to Alicent’s words to her father: “Reluctance to murder is not a weakness!" Another example of the narrow definition of “strength” that is imposed by men.

Later, we see Alicent warning Cole of the dangers that this rigid adherence to “strength” will lead to: “You know what [Aemond] is... what of justice, of temperance? Or is strength now to be our only god? So you cast me aside.” Of course, Cole justifies his dismissal of Alicent because he views her as a gentle woman that needs to be “spared”.

Daemon: Alys & Laena

Daemon attempts to justify his crimes by stating, “war is a terrible thing.” Alys corrects him, “This is not war. These are crimes against the innocent…And once again, in the name of power, it's the weak and the women who must endure.” In response, Daemon argues that the people, “look to a man for strength.” Here we see that he views the idea of strength as equivalent to masculinity.

Ultimately, this show of “strength” back-fires on him when his victims denounce him as a “tyrant”. It’s in this scene where Laena’s ghost asks him, “Have you looked after our girls?” Her ghost is used to haunt Daemon over his past mistakes. His desire for strength and power have led to many unintended failures.

Aemond & Helaena:

While staring at the Iron Throne - a prize he secured as a result of relentless scheming - Helaena asks him, “Was it worth the price?”

Similar to Laena, Helaena’s role is to haunt Aemond. This follows the overused trope that women serve as moral compasses for men.

Rhaenyra & Jace:

Jace is restless and goes against his mother’s wishes. He is eager to take his dragon and fight leading Rhaenyra to remind her son that Luke was killed by Vhagar and Aemond.

Rhaenyra shoulders a great burden. She is expected to be “always prudent” while the men around her rush to war.

Final Thoughts:

It’s clear that the writers are trying to portray the women as “prudent”, wise and “cautious” while characterising the men as power hungry, reckless and driven by a narrow notion of “strength”. Clearly, the writers are using gendered tropes. This dynamic is not a novel one. And these ideas are not complex.

However, it is important in adding depth to a character like Rhaenyra who was dismissed as “cruel” in the books.

Usually, gendered tropes attract criticism because they tend to reinforce the existing gender order. Although I’m not applying that specific criticism to this case, I do think that the heavy reliance on the idea that women’s voices should hold men accountable for their actions feels overused.

[elia-nymmeros]

Cersei and her vision of ruling

I waited, and so can he. I waited half my life. She had played the dutiful daughter, the blushing bride, the pliant wife. She had suffered Robert's drunken groping, Jaime's jealousy, Renly's mockery, Varys with his titters, Stannis endlessly grinding his teeth. She had contended with Jon Arryn, Ned Stark, and her vile, treacherous, murderous dwarf brother, all the while promising herself that one day it would be her turn. If Margaery Tyrell thinks to cheat me of my hour in the sun, she had bloody well think again.

I love thinking about Cersei and her inefficient and ultimately doomed attempt at ruling because, beyond her faults and terrible traits as a person, she simply does not offer any valuable incentive towards anyone who wishes to follow her, as opposite to other contestants (something that I think 100% comes from Tywin), and any attempt at ruling would've failed sooner or later.

Edit: added some quotes to show some examples and tweak some stuff!

From AGoT all the way through her PoVs in AFfC, one of Cersei's main characteristics both in her personal approach to other people and in the way she tackles ruling is that she believes she's entitled to power and she's entitled to be treated as superior both as a Lannister and as the queen regent of Westeros. She routinely dismiss and berates people with lesser social power and status, she despises people who try to 'take liberties' and who don't treat her as an untouchable regent, and she's willing to hurt, torture and kill anyone who she considers a threat to her claim to rule. I personally think it's understandable that she's paranoid about traitors and people who have double intentions about her and Tommen —especially considering that in AFfC she literally just saw her son die in her arms by poison— but her problem is that she's a bad judge of character, she's been flawed in how she interprets other people's actions since AGoT, and she's incapable of adequately judging who is on her side and who is a bad option for an ally (see for example her thinking that Kevan was a traitor when he made good criticism about her as a ruler).

"The next Hand will know his place, she promised herself. It would have to be Ser Kevan. Her uncle was tireless, prudent, unfailingly obedient. She could rely on him, as her father had. The hand does not argue with the head. She had a realm to rule, but she would need new men to help her rule it. Pycelle was a doddering lickspittle, Jaime had lost his courage with his sword hand, and Mace Tyrell and his cronies Redwyne and Rowan could not be trusted. For all she knew they might have had a part in this. Lord Tyrell had to know that he would never rule the Seven Kingdoms so long as Tywin Lannister lived." AFfC, Cersei I

For me, a very hard truth about Cersei is that she absolutely suffered physical and sexual abuse from Robert, and she did not deserve neither this nor her perpetual objectification by pretty much every men in her life, but this simply does not make her entitled or eligible as a ruler by default. By Westerosi laws —which are undoubtedly misogynistic and unfair to women no matter their ability to rule— her claim as a Queen regent comes by her marriage to Robert and her sons (which are supposed to be Robert's blood). Since she decided to go all girlboss about it and put the two sons who clearly did not have Robert's blood on the throne, she actively harmed their claim and her own, and she literally created a succession crisis by having the bad luck of marrying the one family with strong genes and zero chance of having blondes in their family tree.

But let's say, alright, put the clearly Lannister boys on the throne anyways, kingship is a social construction and the Baratheons didn't really have any more intrinsic claim to Westeros than the Targaryens other than military might, fuck it; the obvious question is, what am I offering my subjects so that their support is rewarded and their loyalty is secured? This is something that, in some way or another, is answered by the other pretenders in the War of the Five Kings, even if it's in a limited capacity and with very dubious intentions: Robb offers a rule from, by and to the Northern people that takes into account their wishes and reclaims, and also offers the people of the Riverlands justice and protection; Balon offers the Ironborn a new, revitalized rule over the islands and surrounding land with the Old Way which he claimed would improve the life of his people; Renly and his alliance with the Tyrells came with the prosperous wealth of the Reach and offers of food, pardons and a generous rule by a charismatic ruler mimicking Robert's long peaceful reign. Stannis, by contrast, is the one who pushes his claim solely by his rights in Targaryen dynastic succession (if the king dies with no legitimate children, the crown should go to the next eldest brother), and we see over and over throughout the saga that this isn't enough to secure his claim, that a ruler should also fulfill their rights as a protector if they wish to be followed, that he was demanding loyalty and obedience without offering something in return and that this won't give you support no matter how legal is your claim.

"If not for my Hand, I might not have come at all. Lord Seaworth is a man of humble birth, but he reminded me of my duty, when all I could think of was my rights. I had the cart before the horse, Davos said. I was trying to win the throne to save the kingdom, when I should have been trying to save the kingdom to win the throne." ASoS, Jon XI

Compared to all this, Cersei (and Joffrey by extension, because she encourages in him what she believes are good traits for a king) simply did not have anything to offer precisely because they live under the illusion —once again coming from Tywin— that they have the intrinsic right to power and ruling simply because they're Lannisters and they should be obeyed because of this. This would be a normal thing to believe in a normal, regular dynasty —for example, I doubt Aegon IV or Viserys I or Maekar I were particularly thinking about what they could offer to their subjects, they simply gained power because they were part of a royal lineage where a Targaryen man inheriting the throne was expected— but Joffrey's claim came from a break of this succession, and Robert justified his reign both by being the descendant of a Targaryen and also because he offered Westeros peace, protection, justice and mercy if you'd been in the wrong side of the war.

""It is, Your Grace," Lady Merryweather agreed. "The High Septon should have come to you. And these wretched sparrows . . ." "He feeds them, coddles them, blesses them. Yet will not bless the king." The blessing was an empty ritual, she knew, but rituals and ceremonies had power in the eyes of the ignorant. Aegon the Conqueror himself had dated the start of his realm from the day the High Septon anointed him in Oldtown. "This wretched priest will obey, or learn how weak and human he still is."" AFfC, Cersei VI

A lot can be said about Robert's rule and what he did right and wrong, but I think one can admit that he was a man capable of pardoning his enemies' lives unconditionally (think Barristan, Balon, Jaime), he put down disagreements and fights without sending someone to be tortured to death, and traditional customs in Westeros were respected —Aerys' rule was contested precisely because he broke the right of nobles to have a trial. Cersei doesn't simply ignore all this, being particularly vicious, cruel and spiteful to her enemies/rivals even after she supposedly made peace with them, but nothing about her rule is about anything except her and her wishes: if there's a scarcity of food, then she hoards everything to herself; if there's danger to the city, she hides herself and withdraws her resources and fuck the rest of the population, noble or not; if someone comes from the rival side wanting to join their cause, then they're suspected traitors who sooner or later will be put to death; if someone says a criticism about her actions, whether genuine or not, then that person is a traitor who sooner or later will be put to death; everyone is her enemy and everyone wants her power for themselves and nobody can ever be trusted because nobody is as smart, capable, worthy and deserving of power as Cersei is.

"It took the rest of the flagon before the queen was finally able to coax the whole sad tale out of Lady Falyse. Once she had, she did not know whether to laugh or rage. "Single combat," she repeated. Is there no one in the Seven Kingdoms that I can rely upon? Am I the only one in Westeros with a pinch of wits? (...)" AFfC, Cersei VII

"Taena had drifted back to sleep by the time the queen returned to the bedchamber, her head spinning. Too much wine and too little sleep, she told herself. It was not every night that she was awakened twice with such desperate tidings. At least I could awaken. Robert would have been too drunk to rise, let alone rule. It would have fallen to Jon Arryn to deal with all of this. It pleased her to think that she made a better king than Robert." AFfC, Cersei VII

Since she doesn't care about feeding her subjects, protecting them from harm, enacting fair and genuine justice to those who need it, improving the physical infrastructure of the realm, honoring debts to foreign entities and previous agreements to other nobles, or at least diminishing the economic problems left by Robert's rule, then she (and once again, Joffrey and Tommen by extension) literally has nothing to offer anyone who wishes to follow her. She doesn't make even the attempt to pretend she cares about any of this by the time we get to AFfC, like Renly once did in ACoK, precisely because she has the mistaken and very dangerous belief that she's owed obedience and deference and the right to rule over an entire continent, and that people should somehow be grateful to obey her no matter how shitty and depraved and harmful she is to them and their families.

""The realm is at war. His Grace has need of every man." Cersei did not intend to squander Tommen's strength playing wet nurse to sparrows, or guarding the wrinkled cunts of a thousand sour septas. Half of them are probably praying for a good raping. "Your sparrows have clubs and axes. Let them defend themselves."" AFfC, Cersei VI

"When the door closed behind them Cersei poured herself another cup of wine. "I am surrounded by enemies and imbeciles," she said. She could not even trust to her own blood and kin, nor Jaime, who had once been her other half. He was meant to be my sword and shield, my strong right arm. Why does he insist on vexing me?" AFfC, Cersei VII

All of this is remarkable precisely when put in contrast with Dany, because both of their ambitions to the throne come from their belief that they're entitled to the throne above any other consideration, and both of them had little experience ruling before their ascent to power and are continuously doubted/criticized because of their gender, but what sets Dany apart is her willingness to learn from others and take care of the people who follow her. Despite all the troubles that ADwD have brought her, Dany has always been characterized by someone who attempts to protect others and is prepared to hear her subject's opinions and make actual efforts to improve their lives; many of us root for her precisely because she makes a genuine effort into being a good and fair ruler to her subjects even when she fails, even when she makes wrong choices, even when she falls short of her goal. One of the main problems in her journey has been the question of how can she become a legitimate ruler in the eyes of the Westerosi people, and she rightfully understood that she needed to offer something in exchange for loyalty, just like Stannis did.

""There's much I don't understand," Davos admitted. "I have never pretended elsewise. I know the seas and rivers, the shapes of the coasts, where the rocks and shoals lie. I know hidden coves where a boat can land unseen. And I know that a king protects his people, or he is no king at all."" ASoS, Davos VI

"Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can't protect themselves?" ASoS, Daenerys III

I believe that the fact that Cersei doesn't ever comes close to this realization doesn't just steam from her natural self-centredness, propensity to cruelty and repeated trauma in the hands of the men in her life, but precisely by the vision Tywin had about himself and house Lannister. At the end of the day, Cersei mimics not only what Tywin himself believes about their house (that they're superior, wealthier, worthier and morally above everyone else, even other noble houses), but also how Tywin behaves as a political actor (making deals in bad faith and not fulfilling them, mistreating children, women and disabled peoople, using extreme violence as a form of correction and coercion, following no moral guidance or innate beliefs other than what benefits them in the short term, etc.). They're not the only ones who exhibits this behavior (Bronn, for example, is just as self-serving and violent as them), but House Lannister, and Tywin, Cersei and Joffrey in particular, are definitely some of the most powerful and influential people in Westeros thanks to their military might and economic power, which amplifies the consequences of their selfishness to... quite scary levels.

[bietrofastimoff23]

Ser Criston Cole, the Kingmaker.

Any day now, I prefer the bookish reason why Criston was nicknamed the Kingmaker, namely that he was the one who, as commander-in-chief, allowed a state turnaround to happen, convinced Aegon to sit on the throne and put the crown on his head. he coolly and prudently moved towards his goal and eliminated enemies, wiping the floor with opponents in battle. He was the real player in the game of thrones.

At the same time, I admit that there is something attractive about the fact that in the show Criston was nicknamed the Kingmaker because he FORCES enemy houses to kneel before the true king (even though they tried to embarrassingly expose this cool name as something offensive). Unfortunately, although Criston's cunning remained partly with him, he is far from being a player like his book version, and more like a pawn.

I would like to believe that after he finds out about the betrayal of the green queen, he will stop looking for his motivation in her and will act out of loyalty to the cause of his faction, out of the belief that of all the contenders, it is Aegon who should sit on the throne ("He'd [Criston] rather have Aegon on the Iron Throne than anyone else at that point. Even Aemond on the Iron Throne has its own threats and its own risks." - Fabien). but the show's smear campaign is so strong that I'm not too optimistic about its arc.

[thevelaryons]

SEAWHORES

A certain interesting detail when it comes to Velaryon men is that many of them are noted to be sexually promiscuous, or so the histories claim.

CORLYS

He is described as carrying on a secret affair for several years:

In his Testimony, the fool puts forth the notion that “the little mice” had been sired not by the Sea Snake’s son, but by the Sea Snake himself. Lord Corlys did not share Ser Laenor’s erotic predispositions, he points out, and the Hull shipyards were like unto a second home to him, whereas his son visited them less frequently. Princess Rhaenys, his wife, had the fiery temperament of many Targaryens, Mushroom says, and would not have taken kindly to her lord husband fathering bastards on a girl half her age, and a shipwright’s daughter besides. Therefore his lordship had prudently ended his “shipyard trysts” with Mouse after Alyn’s birth, commanding her to keep her boys far from court.

— Fire & Blood, The Dying of the Dragons

LAENOR

Regarding Laenor, it's worth mentioning that he had a harem (though Joffrey Lonmouth was clearly the most favoured one out of the pretty boys whose company Laenor enjoyed):

Laenor Velaryon was now nineteen years of age, yet had never shown any interest in women. Instead he surrounded himself with handsome squires of his own age, and was said to prefer their company.

— Fire & Blood, Heirs of the Dragon

Then there is Laenor's confrontation with his lover turned killer, Qarl Correy. Laenor was said to be courting someone else behind Qarl's back. According to the eye witness accounts from Spicetown, Qarl was seen angrily arguing with Laenor before their confrontation turned violent:

Septon Eustace provides us with the killer’s name and declares jealousy the motive for the slaying; Laenor Velaryon had grown weary of Ser Qarl’s companionship and had grown enamored of a new favorite, a handsome young squire of six-and-ten.

— Fire & Blood, Heirs of the Dragon

JACAERYS

Rumour has it Jace had an affair during his trip to Winterfell. Whether it's true or false though is open to debate:

His account introduces a young maiden, or “wolf girl” as he dubs her, with the name of Sara Snow. So smitten was Prince Jacaerys with this creature, a bastard daughter of the late Lord Rickon Stark, that he lay with her of a night.

— Fire & Blood, The Dying of the Dragons

That's not the only rumour surrounding Jace. His trip to the Vale also circulated rumours concerning Jeyne Arryn:

Mushroom tells us that this famous maiden was in truth a highborn harlot with a voracious appetite for men, and gives us a salacious tale of how she offered Prince Jacaerys the allegiance of the Vale only if he could bring her to her climax with his tongue.

— Fire & Blood, The Dying of the Dragons

ALYN

Speaking of rumours, Alyn certainly has his share of them:

Lord Alyn required fresh water and provisions for his ships, whilst Princess Aliandra required services of a more intimate nature. Bastard Born would have us believe that he provided them, Hard as Oak that he did not.

— Fire & Blood, Under the Regents

When he did, the “Queen” was so delighted with him that he sent two of his wives to Oakenfist’s bedchamber that night. “Give them sons,” Racallio commanded. “I want sons as brave and strong as you.” Our sources are at odds as to whether or not Lord Alyn did as he was bid.

— Fire & Blood, Under the Regents

A woman known only as Rue, who may or may not have been a septa, and may or may not have become one of his lordship’s paramours.

— Fire & Blood, Under the Regents

“She was the fairest treasure of the Maidenvault. Lord Oakenfist the great admiral lost his heart to her, though he was married to another.”

— A Feast for Crows, Jaime I

LUCERYS (the Admiral)

Although we don't get any direct quote about his private affairs, it seems to be implied that Aurane is his bastard son alongside his trueborn son, Monford. Well Lucerys can't have pulled that bastard out of a bed of kelp. Clearly he fucks too.

[ewanmitchelll]

Imagine Aemond loves you… but thousands die because of it.

Warnings: incest, explicit smut, drama, angst; long post with FLUFFLY ending.

***

You are only a year older than him, the oldest daughter of Queen Alicent and King Viserys; the one whom your mother fights to have your right as the next Queen of Westeros acknowledged by your uninterested father; the one whom he comes after every day, every night.

Where he is the moon, you are the sun. Where he is the universe, you are the stars. One gravitates towards the other every time. This is no exception, but the rule.

Aemond, bad reputed as he already is in his late teenager years, is very good to you. Loyal, some would maliciously whisper, like a famine lover. But you don’t give ear to such rumors. These are nonsenses… and besides your mother is planning to marry him away. To whom, you do not know.

But to say you don’t care is to indulge in lies. Where he goes, you follow. Like this afternoon, for example.

He is outdoors, practicing with his sword. Your eyes glue at the perfection with which he swings it, blocking Ser Criston’s blow. You can tell he is demanding, unaccepting anything that is not concise.

You take notice of his black weather, how well it shapes his built muscles, a sight that warms your body. Sensing a pair of eyes watching him, little surprises him when the prince captures the owner of such a stare.

“Sister!”, he quickly leaves aside his training to engulf you in his tender embrace. As he buries his face in your neck, smelling your scent, which reminds him of sweet red roses, Aemond sighs in content. Reluctantly, though, he parts the embrace. “Shouldn’t you be elsewhere?”

“Away of my favourite companion? No, I don’t think so”, you smile the brightest when seeing a faint shade of pink color his cheeks. You stroke his face. “I pray not to distract you out of your practices, my sweet.”

“Hardly”, he whispers, taking your hands and pressing a kiss in each. “I missed you. Has mother been rough on you again?”

Aemond sees through you, as you look away, hoping not to let it too clear the troubles you’ve been having with the Queen. Alicent constantly compares you with Helaena and even Rhaenyra, not to add she has no patience with what she judges as laziness and your melancholy.

“Not really, no”, but your embargoed voice breaks the exhaustion that has been plagued your soul.

“Y/Nickname…”

He holds you tight, caressing your back. As his hands tangle in your lose silver locks, the prince comforts you. Similar pain, similar fate, there is too much that links one to the other.

“Oh it’s nothing that we are not used to, right?”, you say, dismissing the concern he casts you in a long gaze.

This tension with the family is not new to neither of you; it is in fact an element that brought you close to him and him to you. But as he rubs his thumb over your wrist, you ignore the longing in his body and the desire in his eyes, so obvious to all, completely oblivious at how he reciprocates your sentiments.

“I was wondering if we should perhaps go to a ride today. I feel as if we need it”, you smile at him, possessed by a sweet temper that melts his pride.

“As much as I want to”, says the prince, gently touching your face, “we have a bloody dinner expecting us.”

You sigh heavily, but you agree.

“I promise, though, that I will visit you tonight”, adds Aemond, nearly touched by despair upon seeing a flash of disappointment in your eyes.

“Very well”, you should not feed expectations, but when he smiles at you, your knees go weak. “I will be waiting.”

***

You sit at a chair before a mirror in your nightgown, hair loose falling like a cascade of silver locks. You brush them by the time a knock on the door startles you, getting you out of your thoughts.

Dismissing a maid of company when suspecting who comes late an hour, you know you are being prudent—-what if it’s not him? Thankfully he is.

Taken aback by your handsomeness is lord Aemond. The reputed bad prince looks mesmerized at your sight, his eyes staring wide at your boobs. You blush, disconcerted before his gaze but pleased for the same reason, glad to have captured his interest

But for now lust is cast aside when you hold in your arms, welcoming him gladly—the same way you used to as children, when more than often he went to your private quarters to sleep by your side whenever he had nightmares.

“You are here”, you muse gleefully, bringing him close inside.

“I am”, Aemond smiles. “When have I failed in being true to my word, especially where it comes to you?”

You beam at his wording, a balsam for your heart. As you two sit at your bed, fingers intertwine and locks are gazed.

“I could have never asked for someone else to look after me so well as you do, Aemond. I was remembering the other day when you brought me to Sunfyre. It felt so well. You freed me.”

He puts a lock behind your ear, a quiet smile dragging slowly on his lips.

“You may transmit shyness to others but I see the iron underneath your beauty, Y/N. Your wit is as captivating as your lilac eyes, or your red lips.”

You blush, looking away, but he holds your chin.

“I am no liar.”

“Aemond…”

Could it be?

An unposed question that doesn’t make to your tongue. The prince, however, knows it.

How to answer that, though? He places himself now behind your back and you slip to the comfort of his strong arms, snaking in your waist. You rest your head against his chest, your breathing synchronized to his.

There is no need of words.

Not now anyway.

You carefully lean to blow away candle, but it’s when darkness rises that cats come out to play.

*

“How are you feeling?”, Aemond asks after a while, and his hot breath in your ear gives you shivers.

Shivers that he feels. It is as if he needed physical evidence that he is not alone in his affections. Innocently he parts your legs with his knee and very gently presses it against your womanhood.

Somehow he feels your fever.

“I… I feel better”, your voice comes out as a moan when he continuously rubs his knee against your core. Doesn’t really help you how his arms conveniently rest over your hardening nipples. You press your hips against his manhood in response. “What a day we had, uh?”

Aemond chuckles lightly at your efforts in trying to act as if nothing is happening there. He plays with your hair all the whilst he slips his other hand over your nipple. Feeling it hard under the cloth almost makes him gasp.

Fuck, he curses internally.

“When don’t we have a good day in this family?”, he snorts, pleased to find you chuckling, though detecting some tension in your short cut breath.

“Aemond…”, you eventually decide not to ignore how his hand is slowly lifting your nightgown. It doesn’t help how he stops rubbing his knee against your womanhood, getting you familiar with an unknown ache that doesn’t cease to torment you now.

“Yes?”

Aemond gently places a kiss between the line that separates your jawline to your neck.

“Tell me and I’ll stop”, he whispers against your ear, finding no resistance in removing your gown. “Tell me I am not alone in this, Y/Nickname.”

He knows how to awake the dragon in you. Tired of fighting the urge to have him, you turn slightly to let him take away your gown of your body, before diving into his lips, burning in high fever.

The prince moans, sensing a bone as a result of your intensity grip over him. The way with which your naked body moulds to his, how your hand boldly moves from his belly down to his cock.

A kiss like fire tearing each other in flames. A fight for dominance in perfectly synced tongues, but of course Aemond comes over you, biting your bottom lip, chewing it with grace before letting it slip to explore your neck.

“Love me”, you beg him. “Deflower me!”

The prince groans in response, skin on skin now, he now shivers upon hearing new sounds coming out of your mouth. Nothing tastes better than cupping each nipple of your firm, round breasts. The way you moan loud is a positive indicator he is following the right path.

Though he’d had only one carnal experience—all thanks to a bet made with his younger brother Aegon—, nothing compares to the delights he experiments with you.

Spreading your legs to let him fit in between, you arch your back as despair crawls upon your skin the moment his tongue and teeth play with your tits. Your roll your eyes, hands messing with his hair… and what to say of this new sentiment when his hand finds way to your clit and with two fingers, you gasp louder?

“Aemond!”, you whimper. “Aemond, please!”

Darkness involves you, but there is no need to see when one knows the other so damn well. You burn and he burns with you.

“Come to me”, he commands, all the whilst going low with his mouth. “Come, Y/N!”

His mouth promptly rises to yours when you are about to be so loud. As your legs tremble and shake, you now share his bluntness surprise him with the turning tables.

Your lips are now going lower to his belly, fingers digging across his skin. Aemond’s breath is short cut and his naughty words reach your ears only to arouse you further—if possible.

“Oh, Lady. I dwelt in long nights at the thought of your lips so close to my skin, working wonderfulness to repent me of my skins. My own touch is not enough when compared to yours. Burn me, consume me. Set my soul alight…”

His words die just as you take his length throbbing into your mouth. The sounds you make at having it in your way make Aemond painfully lustful for you.

He slowly parts his legs, riding your face the way you want him to do. You feel so indecent, a sinner condemned for sure—but loving him feels right, and you have no remorse in doing what so far only reason conceived through forbidden readings.

You lick it, you bite it gently, and the sounds he makes give you goosebumps. You want more of him, you give your best, letting him be your guide.

Little surprise there is when you feel it.

When you hear it.

When you know it.

And you swallow all of it.

That night, you are no longer a damsel. Aemond Targaryen has finally reclaimed your body and soul at last—like you’ve dreamt to.

***

You try to disguise the pain in your legs the next day. Worse is, though, to find ways to cover the bruises he left in your skin.

Praise the Gods, he assigned his mark on you. But yet here you are.

Acting in secrecy… for now.

“You must be married right away”, considers the queen at the moment her children are gathered for the morning meal. “Y/N, Rhaenyra has proposed the union of our houses. You are going to be betrothed to Jacaerys Velaryon.”

“No!”, you protest all the whilst Aemond closes his wrist and slams the table. “I shall not espouse a bastard, Mother!”

Otto Hightower, there present, seems delighted to discover there is more in you than dissociating in familiar gatherings.

“Y/N, this is the best for our family…”

“The girl has a point though”, says Otto. “If she is going to be the next queen, a bastard must not father the next line of kings…”

“I do not want the bloody crown!”, you sigh heavily. “Give it to Aemond!”

“I would marry her, in fact.”, says the prince, making you blush and surprising the others for his blunt speech.

“And you will, and you will!”, remarks Helaena, excited.

“How, if you are associated with Alys Rivers?”, snorts Aegon, making you raise your eyebrows. “How considerate of dumping your whore, Aemond.”

“Spreading false rumors are very typical of you, brother”, he hisses quietly.

Alicent raises her hands to her hair, as if in silent prayer for patience. It’s when Otto says:

“I detest to be the one to remind you that you are no longer children to act like ones. Dutiful you are, Aemond, and we are thankful for it, but we need to consider other elements in Y/N’s arrangement.”

“Targaryen tradition should be an excellent argument in why we are doing what we are doing.”

“I think best Jacaerys Velaryon to marry Y/N”, says Queen Alicent, probably tired of her offspring bickering than actually reasoning in favor of the match.

Or maybe she wants a genuine reapproach to her stepdaughter after years of cold war.

Her decision is not welcomed by all. You fall back in your gloomy mood and Aemond storms outside.

Silence falls before Helaena muses:

“Love always comes with a price.”

***

You barely have the chance to speak to Aemond since the Queen’s delusional decision in arranging your marriage to a bastard under the pretense of aligning her house to the Velaryon in order to put an end to this rising rivalry.

It doesn’t really help that your body aches—not only due to what happened the day before, but because it misses him in every way—, but circumstances begin to separate each other.

The expected dinner is a first. Your father is holding together his family in an attempt to show unity. He couldn’t be more wrong.

“You are looking beautiful”, says Aemond when seeing you at last.

Today you are dressing a long sleeved gown in green that shows some cleavage. Your hair is tied in a fashion braid and your delicate features are reinforced by Helaena’s make up.

“For the love of Gods”, murmurs Aegon, “find yourselves a bed already.”

“How insensitive of you saying so”, says Helaena. “If you have not the ability to love, let others do so in peace.”

You and Aemond could have not been any redder.

*

“I’ll make you my wife”, he vows. “No matter what.”

“Even so… I must say a name hammers in my head since yesterday”, you whisper back as you take the seat he pulls for you to take.

Aemond gives you a long glance.

“Y/N… you are not honestly referring to what Aegon said, are you? We are not together any longer together for a long while now.”

The thread is interrupted though when king Viserys begins his speech. You look at him not like your father—he always neglected you, never got interest in you as a person, hence why you do not understand why your mother thinks proper to make you the first queen to reign in Westeros. Even that…he refused you.

You look away, pretending to focus in the wine that colors your glass. You start to disassociating when Aemond holds your fingers underneath the table, a firm gesture that reminds you that you are not alone in your resentment.

The rest of the dinner goes awkwardly well—everyone plays their role just fine. Until that is Jacaerys invites you for a dance. If he does on purpose, you cannot say—but you miss the glare on Aemond’s face.

Partially moved by the disapproval of being told of Aemond’s old liaison with Alys Rivers, you stand and to his horror you take the invitation. But also it feels good to see jealousy behind his good eye as you two start dancing.

“It comes to my understanding we are marrying soon”, says Jacaerys to break the ice.

“Indeed”, you say rather coolly, though you smile benignly at him. “Linking our houses for peaceful purposes. How delightful.”

Jacaerys furrows his eyebrows, perhaps mistaking your remark with sarcasm. He opts perhaps to see this is not the case. And maybe it is not.

“Duty must always stand before sentiments.”

“It is the way”, you nod. “We aim to serve, even if these ties suffocate us.”

“It only does if one isn’t resigned”.

Music never before sounds so melancholic to your ears. But here you are. Dancing with someone who long ago ceased to be a friend, performing for a duty like a dutiful daughter. Being kind above all… because few have been kinder to you.

Then music comes to an end and you go back to your place. The king stands, it’s time to retire. When he leaves, scars are left open and blood comes out…

“I would like to have a toast”, so Aemond, in silence for so long, rises abruptly with a glass of ale in hand.

You raise your eyebrows significantly, unable to perceive the subtle change of behavior. It’s usually Aegon the teaser, never him.

All pair of eyes are set on this tall, paled silver haired prince, whose good eye shines mischief, showing resentment for past events, never buried, always resurrected.

The quiets are usually the worse. It is known.

“…for these three Strong boys.”

It is the start of a new hell. Jacaerys doesn’t take it easy, and as predicted he and Aemond get in a fight. Your eyes are wide and you abruptly stand, not believing in the scene that runs before your eyes.

Your heart skips a beat when your uncle Daemon puts and end to it. No need words, just his presence is enough to placate the violence Aemond brought to table.

You frown, but refusing to participate, you slip through the night. No one notices, though Aemond does. But this night he doesn’t come for you.

***

Where does all it begin to go wrong? You cannot tell. When Aemond comes at you again, a week has passed by since that bloody dinner. Your father is dying and there are machinations to put you on throne.

Part of you ignores it. But another is prepared for it.

Aemond sees you at courtyard, dressed like a damsel but with the look of a warrior. Silk green gown falls over your curves, your silver locks are tied in two braided buns at each side of your head but your eyes, fierce and empty, stare at the blade you hold with your delicate fingers.

“Y/N…”, his voice is brought to your ears like a summer breeze: welcoming, warming, familiar. But it also startles you.

“You disappeared”, you accuse him, holding tight the blade, not minding feeling the iron gently cut your skin.

“I disappointed you, didn’t I?”, his steps anxiously short the distance and he takes away the sword. “Don’t be imprudent, Y/N. Look at your hand.”

Before you protest, he takes you by your wrist to a fountain nearby and there he merges your palm to it. You flinch, but he holds you still.

“I should have not brought you any further disappointments”, says the prince, especially pained when finding tears coming to your eyes.

“Did you go after her?”

Aemond raises his eyebrows at your question. Insecurity has long found solace in your broken heart. He frowns, before removing his eyepatch. You blink at such exhibition.

“Let me expose me to you. I am fiercely loyal to you, Y/N. I fucking love you. Didn’t I show you that night?”

And then his arms are tight around your waist, his face, his lips brushing against your chest. You stroke his hair, swallowing your tears.

“I love you too. I couldn’t have asked for a better man to keep by my side, but what else would I think when you left for seven bloody days?!”

“I needed space”, he raises his eyebrows, resting his chin over your left boob. “Here I am, though, like a beggar. You don’t deserve that bastard, Y/N. I shall not let you marry him.”

“What control do we possess before our fates?”, you sniff.

He presses a kiss over your skin, giving you goosebumps, before making you sit on his lap. Little does he care that you two are in public. Less so when he kisses your neck up to your earlobe, pleased to make you moan, before he holds your chin.

When your eyes meet, Aemond speaks:

“Wait for me tonight, will you?”

A shadowy smile crosses upon your lips.

“I shall, beloved.”

So sacred, so devoted, this faithful man binds his destiny to yours when he kisses you calmly.

***

When he meets you punctually by midnight, you cannot help that you have a presentment regarding your carnal liaison with this man you love deeply with the waters of your soul. What if you conceive?

But when he stops by in his courtly robes, your concerns are easily dismissed, brushed off your thoughts.

“My love”, urgently he comes to reclaim what’s his by right. “I have missed you.”

“As have I”, you kiss him hungrily, not minding the conflagration that flares over your skin as you desperately help him toss away his robes. “I ached for you, Aemond.”

“Did you?”, he groans when feeling your lips against his neck, close to his chest as your hand strokes his manhood. “Ah, damn it! This feels good!”

“I couldn’t even walk for a day or two”, your tongue leaves circles traces around his chest, all the whilst your fingers wrap around him, doing circular moves up and down.

The idea of ruining you arouses him to such an extent that you already feel his precum at his tip.

“Couldn’t you?”, he leans his head against the wall. “Oh, what have I done?”

It’s when your gaze crosses his. Aemond smiles when seeing his arousal is yours too, how sensual you look at taking his pleasure yours. But he is surprised when you slide to your knees.

“Y/N…”

“Let me reward you, my prince”, your sweet voice is like a melody to his ears, and the moment your mouth meets his manhood… Fire consumes him.

***

You are still fast asleep when your mother’s maid finds you, indecently embraced in your brother’s nude body. But she is not entirely surprised by what she witnesses, considering how it’s been obvious how one always loved the other…

Nevertheless now time urges her to be the deliverer of bad news. You are barely opening your eyes when she says:

“My lady, your mother is after you. Now.”

“What does she want?”, you try going back to sleep, not minding you’ve been caught.

But the woman is too anxious to give you peace.

“Your father, the king, has died.”

This is enough to let your eyes open widely and even Aemond is awaked by these words.

“What does this mean?”, you shouldn’t have asked but panic steps in.

“You are queen now”, says Aemond, tossing away blankets and dressing his clothes. “Thank you, Madame. We are meeting our mother soon.”

You too stand and begin to dress, but your body shakes at what Aemond tells you.

“No!”, you turn at him. “I am no Queen! I do not wish the crown our father has refused me! It’s Rhaenyra’s!”

“Y/N…”, Aemond sighs. “Come on, now.”

“I have no capacity to uphold it! No! Tell our mother I am no queen!”, you don’t realize how loud you are and what fuss you are making until he holds you in his arms.

“Don’t say these things”, says the prince. “I will crown you!”

“No!”, you burst in tears. “I do not want it! Take it for yourself, but…”

“No!”, and he is firm now, holding your face so you look at him. “Quit with this nonsense. You are the eldest daughter. Yes, I would like to be king myself, seeing myself as better fit for the role than Aegon. Not you, though. Never mind our father does not acknowledge you. Fuck it! I believe in you, I’d bet my life for you!”

“Don’t say this. Your life is too precious for me…”, you whisper, eyes closing before the kiss he presses on your temple.

“Come, my sweet. Let me amend past disappointments. Come now.”

You don’t acknowledge his speech, but soon you find yourself walking side by side to him. When you enter the throne chambers, all eyes are on you.

Helaena rushes to your side, curtsying first before engulfing you in her embrace. You swallow a sob, but she hears your whispers:

“I’m scared, Laena.”

“Don’t be. Face the storms and what happens next will be endured.”

You nod, thought uncertain of how to proceed.

Then Aegon follows. He bows and says:

“I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes right now.”

Him, you ignore. Then comes your mother with your grandfather by your side.

“Child you are no more. My sweet girl…”, she ignores how closely your arm is tied to Aemond’s before kissing your cheeks. “You are now queen.”

“I do not want it”, you protest, much to her dismay. “This is Rhaenyra’s crown, not mine!”

“This is yours by right and I’ll tell you why”, says Otto mechanically. “Westeros does not want to be ruled by bastards. The major proof of it is when the Gods put you right here where you must be. Do not forsake your duty, Y/N.”

Little by little your reluctance is melted away. Aemond then turns at you, on his knees before you.

“My queen, lady of the Seven Kingdoms, I give you my heart and loyalty. No one shall claim otherwise.”

Seeing how silent you are, in spite of the tears rolling out of your eyes, it’s Otto’s voice who prevails the general will:

“Long live her Grace, Y/N…” and he lists all the titles that are irrevocably tied to you now.

***

Cut from marble, dressed in silver and gold, you cross the multitude of knighted men who form a corridor for you with their swords unsheathed up in the air.

The High-Sparrow stands above every royal family. Soon a scepter is given to you hold and a crown is placed over your head. The weight of it could smash you, but you stand strong.

You side-glance towards Aemond. You wish this was his instead, but the devotion coming at you convinces duty must not be placated.

“Long may live Queen Y/N, first of her name!”, professes the religious man and as you stand the crowd goes wild.

You are queen now. And your reign has just begun.

***

You watch from the window as clouds come to hide away sun. A bad omen, you judge. Behind you, the first council of the new reign is formed with Otto Hightower as Hand of the Queen. Your mother, the dower queen, also attends it.

Oblivious to all, you miss his company. Aemond has been sent to the seat of Baratheons, at Storm’s End, in order to secure support for your crown.

You hate how fragile this makes your position, how this new beginning feels wrong. And yet, here you stand, foreseeing a storm. As if to confirm it, you hear thunderstorms.

“You shouldn’t have sent him to Storm’s End”, you muse, forced to go back to your seat.

“This isn’t the time nor the moment to miss Aemond, Y/N. Like him, you should focus in what matters.”

“Do you think Rhaenyra will accept well that I have replaced her?”, you snort at her.

“By marrying her son, perhaps this is prevented it!”

“I am not taking a bastard as king consort!”

“For someone who refused to be queen until two days ago you are strongly decided in what to do with the power to you bestowed”, muses Otto, entertained.

“Well, grandsire, please forgive me for not willing to be further controlled by others!”, you snap at him. “Damned this be!”

Damned this looks indeed, for barely the council has come to an end, rain begins to fall… and a very disturbed Aemond shows up.

“Aemond!”, you’d gladly run to him, but something about his face makes you stand where you are.

Alicent, sensing something’s gone terribly wrong, dismisses other councilors. There is only family there present. The prince avoids their gazes, ashamed for what was done—at the same time… you can also tell he’s changed.

“What have you done, my boy?”, the dowager queen breaks the silence, moving to where he is and thus forcing him to look at her. “What have you done, Aemond?”

“I did not mean to”, he whispers. “It wasn’t intentional… but it’s too late now. I cannot change what was done.”

“Oh, Gods”, you rush to your mother’s side, trying to help her sit.

And without waiting to extend this unbearable silence, you hear what is to shock them all—you included.

“Lucerys is dead. I killed him.”

That being said a thunder strongly hits the ground not too far from Red Keep.

An announcement of war.

You just know.

***

“I cannot see you anymore, Y/N”, Aemond’s words break you in tears. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Don’t do that to me!”, you cry out and he feels the blows you hit against his chest. “Don’t you dare doing that, Aemond Targaryen!”

“What else can I do? Look the path I’ve taken! And I feel no remorse over it!”, his voice breaks despair of a long broken soul.

You are partially shocked by his words, his guiltless admission. This is a side you never thought finding in him. It partially frightens you, but then…

Aemond is now on his back at you, tormented by his demons, pounding over his flesh. But you move to where he is, having made your decision.

“Look at me”, and he does.

“Be with me.”

“What? Have you heard what I said?”

“You will be my king or else the crown is Rhaenyra’s for good”, you speak firmly.

Aemond laughs nervously, but your eyes remain in intent stare.

“I mean it.”

“How can you take a monster as me as your husband, Y/N?”

“You are not. I take you as who you are, a faithful, loving man.” You side smirk at him. “I cannot conceive a world, less so a reign, where you are not part of it.”

“I’ve brought you many disappointments. I’ve taken a path you don’t want for me, I…”

You lean on your toes and, holding his face against yours, you kiss his lips intently. Slowly, Aemond’s castle is brought to ruins and his arms soon lock you in.

“I love you. My life is yours, my queen.”

“Make me your wife, Aemond. This is all I ask.”

When looking down at you, he knows he cannot refuse you anything at all.

“Very well then. I know where to go. Take your better robes, my queen. We are marrying tonight.”

You smile, pleased to have your way at long last.

***

No war, no crown, no reign comes at your head when his cock is pumping inside you and his lips are twirling around your pink nipples. No politics, no usurpation daunts your heart, so aligned to his.

“Love me!”, you are a beggar when he is over you, taking the heeds of your body, when you arch your back and have your wrists above your head as he continuously thrusts in you. “Fuck me good, my king!”

As your husband, Aemond gladly complies. He groans loud, proudly taking you as he slides within, interlocking his cock with his hand, intently so.

“It is as my queen commands”, he bites your bottom lip before snaking his tongue in your mouth.

He raises your legs, pushing you below to his body, intertwining both in sync moves. Not until he pursues your lips does he seed you, coinciding with your climax.

“My love, my queen, my woman”, he doesn’t let go of you not even now, rather contemplating this union so sacred to you both.

You turn at him, a smile on your lips. Aemond is mesmerized by how peaceful you look now.

“I bet my life on you”, you whisper against his lips, holding his face with your hands. “Always had, always will.”

There is no need to say further. You two are too attached to turn away now.

***

War has still paved its way to you. A scandal that will bring seven kingdoms to bleed…

“What have you done?”, you hear your mother admonishing you.

You turn at her, impatience already twinkling in your eyes.

“You’ve started this the moment you placed the crown over my head, mother. Don’t make this about me.”

That being said, you walk out. You excused Aemond’s offense, but your mother’s sins cannot be simply be pardoned. These paved your path… of the kind you cannot opt to turn away now.

Tired you may be, with morning sickness worsening as days turn in weeks, but you are too distressed with the possibility of having the capital attacked by the Black partisans.

“You are not flying, Y/N. You must stay here…”

“No, Aemond. I must go. This is not your war to wage. It is also mine.”

The decision is made. But what will it cost?

***

Aemond rushes back in when hearing you’ve been too unwell after facing Baella in what nearly cost your dragon’s life. Sunfyre got wounded, but lived. The same cannot be said of Baella. A victory to your cause, but one that does not come without a heavy price to pay.

Men march on and against your behalf in what seems an endless contending. It is as if you’ve been tossed in the middle of a whirlwind and there you remain.

Once there was hesitation, next came certainty. But where you are now?

It all disappears, every question and doubt are buried in the name of duty. But now you are forced to face a worst battle: the one for your life and yours alone in childbed.

“Where is she?! Where is the Queen?”, he walks in, steps heavy as thunders, echoing in stoned pillars corridors.

Helaena, dutiful like always, is the one to inform him you are in labor now.

“Twins will come, but be careful, Aemond.”

He stops.

“What are you saying? What do you see?”, he almost takes her by her shoulders.

“Vulnerability will come in due time”, it’s all she can tell.

For now, this says little. For now what matters for the rogue prince is that he’d wage thousand wars to see you well.

Like Helaena’s predictions, though, there comes a pair of twins robust and well.

“My Gods. I was worried”, Aemond whispers, rocking you in his arms, looking down as you insist breastfeeding your children.

There is peace. Long lasting peace for the moment. Despite the pained conscience for tearing Westeros apart, all else matters not before the prince you love and rose as king, before the children you bore him that rise now as your heirs.

“I love you”, you tell him.

“I love you too.”

He smiles softly down at you. All is well that ends up well with you.

Definitely worth a bet.

***

• Epilogue.

Aemond is holding Jaehaera in his arms all the whilst Jaehaerys is playing with his cousins. The children of Aegon and Helaena, named Maegor and Visenya, are his best companions.

Peace seems to settle—especially with Rhaenyra’s death by poison, and there had been no signs of her offspring nor Daemon to worry over.

For now.

You are relatively popular and accepted by the common folk. Today you are dressed in gold with details in purple, wearing a necklace gifted to you by your husband.

And you are also pregnant again.

“You should rest and not presiding feasts, my sweet”, so tells you Aemond, forehead leaning against yours.

“Nonsense”, you smile warmly at him. “I must celebrate the result of our hardworking. Our family, us…”

“The bet was entirely worthy it”, Aemond smiles and kisses his lips.

“EW daddy!”, Jaehaera protests, making you both chuckle. “Put me down. This is disgusting.”

Aemond scoffs at the little girl.

“I fear I’ve been spoiling you too much, Jaehaera. You know what? Go on and play with your brother and cousins. Daddy needs to chill anyway”.

She pouts instantly.

“But will you still spoil me, won’t you? I still want to hear the story of how you fell in love with mama.”

You blush at what you hear, looking away as if you are a teenager young woman again. Aemond is more than pleased when seeing how after all these years he can still affect you.

“That depends of your behavior, young lady.”

“Daddy!”

“Give me a kiss and I’ll reconsider it.”

She gladly does as requested and Aemond’s good eye follows her daughter, a seven year old, running after her small group of relatives.

“She reminds me of you”, says he, leaning his back against the chair as he spots Queen Alicent looking after her grandchildren. “Sweet disposed, but very willful.”

You laugh heartily before resting your head against his shoulder.

“What would be me without you and our children, my love?”

Aemond smiles quietly, taking your hand to his lips and there pressing a kiss.

“You made a rebel settle down, crowning the son of careful king. What else could I ask of you, my love?”

He spots the same love behind your irises. It is as if there is no witnesses, as if you two are alone.

“I love you, king of my heart.”

[howlingday]

Abrazos!AU

Ruby: Ahh no me sentí tan bien en años y me equipo está tan relajado te lo agradezco jaun-

Se queda callada ante la image. Blake tenia su cabeza estába en su regazo acostada, weiss estába en su pierna derecha con su cara en su pecho, nora estába en su pierna izquierda abrazado su brazo izquierdo y finalmente yang abrazando su cuello por atrás poniendo sus pecho en su cabeza. Todo ante la mirada de una celosa pyrrha

Jaune: Hola crater face, creó que me pasé un poco con los abrazos, ahora recuerdo porque era sólo para miembros de la familia arc, además aparentemente los cazadores tienen más problemas de lo que aparentan

Ren: Algunas personas no saben reconocer cuándo tienen un problema (mientras estaba metiendo todo tipo de ingredientes en una licuadora desde brócoli, zanahoria y lo que aparentemente era hierba medicinal)

Pyrrha: Ok esto llegó demasiado lejos, me alegra que estén mejor que antes pero se están volviendo muy dependiendo de Esto, habrá momentos dónde tenga que estar en una misión o éste indispuesto y no podrá hacer algo

Weiss: ppfffmmmm (dijo elocuentemente mientras aún estába en su pecho)

Yang: Weiss tiene razón si no está el en el gym quién me dará ánimos y dirá que lo hago bien

Blake: Y quien me coninara mi atún fríto mientras me lee

Nora: Y quien me lavará la espalda mientras nos bañamos

Pyrrha:

Ruby:

Jaune: Les dije que tenían problemas

Ruby: Ok pyrrha tiene razón lo que sea que tengan los podemos resolver cómo equipo y amigos, no estamos diciendo que todo pare pero tampoco que casi exclavisen a jaune, hay que hacerlo todo en un punto medió y con moderación. Acaso quieren terminar cómo ren (apuntó a ren quien estába bebiendo directamente de la licuadora mientras se le caía un poco al piso)

Pyrrha: Además jaune también merece amor

Yang: ¿Por que te parece qué lo abrazos todas así?

Ruby: ¿Porque es cómodo?

Blake: También

Cinder: Muy bien los trabajos ya están asignados. Despues de que la doncella se nos escapó con vida es muy probable que ya no esté aquí o éste protegida lo que podemos usar éso como ventaja, es probable que no nos reconozcan todavía y éso hara que ozpin probablemente acelere las cosas y busque nuevas candidatas, tenemos que interceptarlas, la más probable es que sea pyrrha nikos, lo cual nos llevó ahora aquí, emerald te acompañara neo, usen sus semblante para infiltrate en su cuarto de equipo y revisa si hay alguna pista o indicio de que ozpin la citó, debería ser fácil teniendo en cuenta miss perfec, mercury y yo recopilaremos información al rededor de beacon ya sea con estudiantes o profesores

Mercury: Lo que digas

Emerald: A cinder, no quiero cuestionarte pero es prudente que no te acompañe ningún tipo de soporte por si eres descubierta, además no confío más en el lacayo de román que mercury pero podría hacer algo

Mercury: O me extrañas

Cinder: Silencio, es por éso que la mantendrás vigilida, no confío en mercury para que se la tomé en serio, pero si confío en ti además nos guste o no su historial de ladrón nos ayudará en está situación, y no te preocupes aunque cueste creerlo no es la primera vez que no me notan en sus narices

--------------------------------------------------

Le agradezco a howlingday por darme una idea con la publicación anterior, inicialmente iba a ser de dos pero bueno, talvez se hayan dado cuenta pero aquí amber sigue viva aquí, aparte de una excusa para que vayan al cuarto si sean las siguientes siempre es bueno un mundo donde la mayoría de salva

El cambio de las chicas tiene una explicación, y es que el programa nos mostró que jaune si tiene un encanto real y no, son de las típicas historia dónde se folla a todos. Tiene un encanto más de hermano o padre esto se vio en atlas con las milf's y con las que mostré creo que si serviría

Blake: No estuvo hace tiempo en su casa, extraña mucho a sus padres y adam no era exactamente una manta caliente

Yang: Tuvo un padre en el mejor de los casos ausente por la depresión, un tío alcohólico, y raven siendo raven, además que tuvo que crecer rápido para hacerse cargo de ruby lo cual irónicamente la mantuvo cuerda de los encantós arc

Weiss: TODO

Nora: Es fácil es huerfana, y abandonada en la callé

Pyrrha y Ruby: Cómo dije antes yang cubrió ruby el tiempo suficiente hasta que tai y qrow entraron en razón y hasta dónde sabemos pyrrha no parece haber tenido problemas

Emerald y Neo: Y las que mostré definitivamente entran en la categoría, ya el canon nos mostró que tienen problemas de dependencia y abandonó.

Hug!AU Ruby: Ahh I haven't felt this good in years and my team is so relaxed I appreciate it jaun- She remains silent before the image. Blake had her head lying on his lap, Weiss was on his right leg with her face on his chest, Nora was on his left leg hugging his left arm and finally Yang was hugging his neck from behind putting her chest on his head. All before the eyes of a jealous pyrrha. ---------- Weiss: Ppfffmmmm (said eloquently while still on his chest) Yang: Weiss is right, if he's not in the gym, who will encourage me and say that I'm doing well? Blake: And who would cook my fried tuna while he reads to me? Nora: And who will wash my back while we bathe? Pyrrha: ... Ruby: ... Jaune: I told you you had problems. Ruby: Ok, Pyrrha is right, whatever they have, we can solve it as a team and as friends. We are not saying that everything stops but we are saying that they almost enslaved Jaune! We have to do everything in a medium point and in moderation. Maybe they want to end up like Ren (he pointed to Ren who was drinking directly from the blender while dropping some on the floor)? Pyrrha: Besides, Jaune also deserves love. Yang: Why do you think you all hug him like that? Ruby: Because it's comfortable? Blake: That, too. ---------- Cinder: Very well, the jobs are already assigned. After the maiden escaped us alive, it is very likely that she is no longer here or is protected, which we can use that as an advantage, it is likely that they will not recognize us yet and that will make Ozpin probably speed things up and look for new candidates, We have to intercept them, the most likely is that it is Pyrrha Nikos, which now led us here, Emerald will accompany you Neo, use your semblance to infiltrate her equipment room and check if there is any clue or indication that Ozpin summoned her, it should be easy considering miss perfect, mercury and I will collect information around beacon either with students or teachers. Mercury: Whatever you say. Emerald: Cinder, I don't want to question you but it is prudent that you do not have any type of support with you in case you are discovered, plus I don't trust Roman's lackey more than Mercury but he could do something. Mercury: Or do you miss me? Cinder: Silence! That's why you'll keep an eye on her. I don't trust Mercury to take her seriously, but if I trust you, whether we like it or not, her history as a thief will help us in this situation, and don't worry even if it costs. Believe it, it's not the first time that they haven't noticed me right under their noses. ---------- I thank howlingday for giving me an idea with the previous post, initially it was going to be two but well, maybe you have realized but here Amber is still alive here, apart from an excuse for them to go to the room if they are next it is always good a world where the majority saves The girls' change has an explanation, and it is that the program showed us that Jaune does have real charm and no, they are the typical story where he fucks everyone. He has more of a brother or father charm. This was seen in the atlas with the milfs and with the ones I showed I think it would work. Blake: She hasn't been home in a while, and she misses her parents a lot, and Adam wasn't exactly a warm blanket. Yang: She had a father at best absent due to depression, an alcoholic uncle, and Raven being Raven, plus she had to grow up quickly to take care of Ruby which ironically kept her sane from the arc charms. Weiss: EVERYTHING Nora: It's easy, she's an orphan, and abandoned on the street. Pyrrha and Ruby: Like I said before Yang covered Ruby long enough until Tai and Qrow came to their senses and as far as we know Pyrrha doesn't seem to have had any problems. Emerald and Neo: And the ones I showed definitely fall into the category, since canon showed us that they have dependency problems and abandoned.

-------------------------------------------------

Aw! I'm glad I was able to inspire this, and I thank you for sharing it. It's very cute, and I have to agree with everything you said.

[alquimistaliteraria]

Destinadas a encontrarse pero no a estar juntas.

[¿Por el momento?]

-Carta abierta-

Siento que llegaste a mi vida para recordarme que existen personas maravillosas como tú ahí afuera. Eres como una ventana desde la cual aprecio un lindo paisaje, un bello mundo que se despliega ante mí, recordándome que todo eso también podría estar disponible para mí. Me brindaste el trato amable, cuidadoso, cariñoso y pasional que merezco, y por eso, te estoy profundamente agradecida.

En lo personal, me ayudaste a dar ese cierre que me faltaba con mi ex, algo que necesitaba para seguir adelante. Practiqué contigo el arte de escucharme y mantener mis límites, a pesar de los sentimientos que surgen inevitablemente. Aunque había una semilla de afecto creciendo hacia ti que podría llevarme a enamorarme, entendí que debía ser inteligente y firme respecto a lo que quiero en este momento: no deseo una relación a distancia. Busco la cercanía, el calor de conocer a alguien en persona y enamorarme en ese espacio tangible.

No podría soportar el extrañar a alguien con quien he conectado tanto y estoy sintiendo de nuevo amor. No puedo permitirme caer en eso nuevamente; debía detenerme antes de que fuera demasiado tarde. Además, en este momento tú estás viviendo un proceso y enfoque particular, mientras que yo tengo varias metas personales que quiero alcanzar y vivir profundamente. Las circunstancias y nuestros intereses son motivos que me restringen.

Si en el futuro decidimos reunirnos y conocernos en persona, créeme que estaría muy dispuesta. Pero en este momento, mi intuición me dice que lo correcto para mí es hacerlo así. Debo cuidarme; la cicatriz de mi pasado está aún sensible. Por experiencia, sé que entre poetas, el enamoramiento puede ser una experiencia muy intensa. Me conozco: podría ser impulsiva y arriesgarme, pero necesito ser prudente, tanto para cuidarme como para cuidarte. Prometí ocuparme de ciertas cosas en mí antes de compartir mi ser con seguridad, y esos son algunos de los motivos detrás de esta decisión. Hay otro aspecto que me pone vulnerable y prefiero reservarlo para mí en este momento.

No tienes idea de cuánto me costó tomar esta decisión. Una parte de mí se aferra y solo quiere ir hacia ti, pero al final, esa parte cedió. Han pasado días y extraño nuestro chat diario, tus audios de buenos días, esos momentos en los que me cuentas de tu día. Echo de menos tu voz, tan energética y dulce, las videollamadas y sentir tu compañía, aunque sea a través de una pantalla. Realmente extraño esa sonrisa mágica y esos ojos esmeralda que hipnotizan.

Sabía que ser firme con mi decisión significaría decir adiós a ciertas cosas que me brindabas. Intenté ser tu amiga, pero tengo otro interés contigo, y los sentimientos surgen al convivir, por lo que debía detenerlo. Días como estos, te pienso y te recuerdo con cariño, bonita🌻.

Con afecto y gratitud, by Yls.

[esuemmanuel]

I come to tell love that it is you, always you, the subtle touch that sweetens my chest with the frenzy of your blood and the palpitation of your plexus… There is no one else that provokes this ebullition in my senses; my eyes cry, my lips sing, my nose perceives the perfume of your bed; my hair stands on end, evoking your beat, and my hands end up wanting to make with you a poem to be read only by your flesh and my feeling. From these desires that are not silenced, because they are written in the silence of a prudent leaf to the stain of the word, is that I can shout that I want you, not far or near, but here inside this chest that beats you… that calls you… that implores you and bleeds with your name in zeal, and I will no longer silence what you provoke me, because it is your whole being, your grace and your thought, what keeps me prisoner, longing and willing, to be yours beyond the border of what is recognized as eternal. Because there is no eternity that is enough to satiate my supreme need to have you, even on a leaf with delusions of being perennial… I will write you until my life is over, leaving present testimony that I love you and I will love you until the last word is written by the history of this humanity that passes over the face of this blessed earth.

Vengo a decirle al amor que eres tú, siempre tú, el roce sutil que me endulza el pecho con el frenesí de tu sangre y el palpitar de tu plexo… No hay nadie más que provoque esta ebullición en mis sentidos; mis ojos lloran, mis labios cantan, mi nariz percibe el perfume de tu cama; mis vellos se erizan, evocando a tu latir, y mis manos terminan queriendo hacer contigo un poema que sea leído sólo por tu carne y mi sentir.

De estos deseos que no se callan, pues se escriben en el silencio de una hoja prudente a la mancilla de la palabra, es que te puedo gritar que te quiero, no lejos ni cerca, sino aquí dentro de este pecho que te late… que te llama… que te implora y sangra con tu nombre en celo, y no me callaré más lo que me provocas, pues es tu ser entero, tu gracia y tu pensamiento, lo que me mantiene preso, anhelante y dispuesto, a ser tuyo más allá de la frontera de lo que se reconoce como eterno.

Porque no hay eternidad que sea suficiente para saciarme la necesidad suprema de tenerte, así sea en una hoja con delirios de ser perenne… Te escribiré hasta que se me acabe la vida, dejando testimonio presente que te amo y te amaré hasta que la última palabra sea escrita por la historia de esta humanidad que transita sobre la faz de esta tierra bendita.

[i-am-not-a-super-hero]

Here's my answers for chapter 4!! As always, in spanish :D

Elenda: …

(Debo decir que yo también soy bastante fan suya.) /

(Aunque confieso que no es mi estilo.) /

(Está guay escucharlo en una playlist de vez en cuando.) /

Brune: …

(Pero prefiero hace como si nada hubiera pasado. Es más fácil.)

(No sé qué hacer, y además, puede que Roy se lo haya dicho ya…)

(Puede ser una buena ocasión para hablarle de eso…) +Brune

Lynn: …

Un té con limón, por favor. /

Un chocolate caliente para mí, por favor. /

Yo probaría también ese capuchino. /

Amanda: Conozco gente que disfruta mucho más en pareja de lo que les “cuesta”.

(REBELDE) Está claro que no merece la pena: demasiados problemas. +Elenda

(ENÉRGICA) Estoy de acuerdo con Amanda: se supone que es fácil. +Amanda +Roy +Brune

(DULCE) Yo creo que, en la práctica, es más complicado que eso. +Devon +Thomas

Elenda: …

(ENÉRGICA) Una relación penosa. Con un auténtico cretino. +Devon +Roy +Brune

(DULCE) No fue gran cosa… Nada apasionante, al fin y al cabo… +Thomas +Elenda

(REBELDE) En realidad, no me apetece mucho hablar de eso… +Amanda

Elenda: …

(Creo que podría dejarme tentar, si se presentara la ocasión…) /

(Ni hablar de salir con un compañero de trabajo.) /

(Ojalá esto no cree ningún drama en el futuro…) /

Elenda: Si, bueno, sus historias de cama no son realmente asunto nuestro…

(REBELDE) Nuestro, quizá no, pero de eventuales clientes suyos… +Thomas -Devon -Roy -Jason

(DULCE) Estoy de acuerdo. Es su vida privada. +Jason +Roy +Elenda -Thomas

(ENÉRGICA) ¡Eso dice mucho sobre su persona! +Devon +Amanda -Brune

Jason: Yo, por mi parte, tengo trabajo. Supongo que nos volveremos a ver…

(ENÉRGICA) Sí, hagámoslo así. ¡Hasta luego! +Jason

(REBELDE) Estaría bien que no se convirtiera en una costumbre…

(DULCE) (Le doy la espalda. Mejor ignorarlo.) /

Ysaline: …

(Lo dejo sobre la mesa y me froto las manos, preparada para volver al trabajo.) /

(Hablando de solteros sexis…) IMAGEN JASON

(Miro fijamente la pantalla un momento…) /

Ysaline: …

(Tecleo lo más rápido posible en la pantalla.) IMAGEN

(Debería apartarme un poco, por si acaso.)

(Echo un furtivo vistazo.)

Amanda: Vale… Ysaline, ¿tú cómo vuelves? ¿Quieres aprovechar el taxi?

Te lo agradezco, pero yo también voy a ir en bus… IMAGEN ROY

¡Claro, encantada! IMAGEN AMANDA

Confieso que no me importaría ir en el manillar… IMAGEN DEVON

Debo admitir que la idea de probar la moto de Thomas me apetece más… IMAGEN THOMAS

Archibald: ¡Me he enterado de que has conseguido tu primer logro en tu nuevo trabajo! ¡Enhorabuena!

¡Gracias! ¡Es cierto que he empezado fuerte!

Tanto como un logro… Me parece un poco exagerado… ¡Pero me va bien, sí! ROPA TAKI

¡Las noticias vuelan! ¿Quién te lo ha dicho? /

Roy: Pero entonces vamos a ir un poco apretados.

(DULCE) Supongo que no te importará darte un “baño” de masas… IMAGEN

(ENÉRGICA) ¡No me importa en absoluto!

(REBELDE) Todavía estamos a tiempo de ir en taxi.

Roy: …

Pues… Digamos que no cierro la puerta del todo. /

No. Creo que tendría que pasar algo de tiempo.

Sí, supongo… Pero seguro que sería más prudente.

Amanda: …

Bueno, si no quieres hablar de ello, no quiero presionarte, ¿eh? IMAGEN

(No insisto. Me vuelvo hacia la ventanilla.)

Vale, si quieres andarte con secretos…

Amanda: ¿Te has enamorado tú de alguna chica, Ysaline?

Tal vez… /

No, la verdad es que no.

¡Sí, muchas veces! /

Amanda: …

Creo que sí. /

Sinceramente, no lo creo. /

Contemplar… siempre se puede…

Devon: Ya sabes lo que dicen: “Si lejos quieres llegar…”

“…tu hacienda debes cuidar.” IMAGEN

“…un coche potente debes comprar.”

“…no te puedes descuidar.”

Devon: …

Para ser sincera, no lo sé. /

No creo. O al menos, no por el momento.

Hmm… Sinceramente, creo que sí, pero…

Thomas: Entonces, ¿podrías considerar una nueva relación en un futuro próximo?

No lo sé… Puede.

En un futuro próximo, no, quizá no.

Sí, claro. ¡No me voy a quedar estancada así toda mi vida! /

Thomas: …

(REBELDE) ¿Va todo bien? ¿Algún problema?

(DULCE) (No he dicho nada. Sobre todo porque podría estar pensando en otra cosa…)

(ENÉRGICA) (A modo de burla, me giro sobre mí misma.) IMAGEN

[oli0217]

UNA CARTA PARA MI MISMA, CUANDO SIENTO QUE TODO VA MAL EN MI VIDA

Si alguna vez dudas acerca de lo que puedes lograr, por favor recuerda tu momento más difícil y bastará para que sientas que puedes con el mundo entero.

Ya hemos pasado por esto, recuerda tres cosas: tranquila, te amo y todo pasa, este momento también pasará. Has recorrido un largo camino, viviste cosas que jamás, ni en el sueño más remoto imaginaste, pasaste por los momentos más bonitos y complicados de tu vida, así que no hay razón para entrar en pánico, eres fuerte y cada día lo serás un poco más.

Te admiro mucho, tanto que eres mi orgullo más grande, sé lo que has pasado y que cada día, uno a uno intentas ser la mejor persona posible, todo lo demás es secundario; si alguna vez dudas acerca de lo que puedes lograr, por favor recuérdate en ese que fue tu momento más difícil y bastará para que de nuevo sientas que puedes con el mundo entero, porque hasta hoy no conozco persona más fuerte y decida que tú, cuando te lo propones.

Vive este momento, no como un castigo ni algo desafortunado sino como una oportunidad, tú más que nadie sabe que nada es eterno así que toma lo que necesites, aprende lo que pueda servirte para después y fluye con la vida, recuerda que el miedo, la tristeza, el dolor, la rabia y la desesperanza también son parte de ella y de ti, entre más resistas más duele así que dales oportunidad y las gracias por lo que vinieron a enseñarte, luego déjalos ir.

Eres humana, permítete equivocarte y caer, llora si lo necesitas y muéstrate frágil, que hoy estoy convencida que eso es fortaleza, y no es malo; recuerda ser humilde, que exigirte perfección es arrogancia.

No te reproches jamás el confiar en la gente, dales una oportunidad cuando lo creas prudente y confía en tu instinto cuando te diga que no; si alguien hace algo que te lastima recuerda dos cosas, son humanos igual que tú y si se equivocaron comprende, pero si lo hicieron con intención solo déjalo ir, entiende que no hay algo malo contigo y sus decisiones no te pertenecen ni tienen que ver con tu valor, no siempre eres la indicada para toda la gente y eso está bien, entonces suelta y continúa.

Agradece siempre, nada ni nadie pasa por tu vida sin tener una misión en ella, sé receptiva y mantente dispuesta a aceptar lo hay para ti, suelta aquello que ya no encaja más y mantén las manos abiertas para lo que viene, pero no te aferres a lo que duele o no funciona, que ocupa el espacio de cosas mejores.

Quiérete tanto que solo permitas para ti lo mejor, rodéate de todo lo bueno, personas, momentos, lugares.

Recuerda lo infinitamente feliz que has aprendido a ser en tu propia compañía, y si en algún momento alguien quiere entrar a tu vida, asegúrate que supere eso, porque para menos, ya no estás.

Recuerda de dónde vienes y ten claro a dónde vas, pero si en algún momento no lo sabes, disfruta entonces de explorar las posibilidades, a veces encuentras lo que no sabías que buscabas.

Ama tu pasado, abrázalo y agradécele, que tiene mucho que ver con quien eres hoy, pero céntrate especialmente en tu presente, que es mucho de lo que serás mañana.

Siente mucho, has mucho, da mucho, ama mucho, arriesga mucho y siempre, siempre, ganarás en mayor proporción.

Sé fiel a ti, no temas decir ‘no’ cuando así lo sientas, de cualquier forma nunca se acaba de complacer a los demás; pero sobre todo, apasiónate por lo que haces y llena tu vida de ‘sí’, sí voy, sí quiero, sí puedo, sí lo hago, sí aprendo, sí… ¡Vivo!

Ama a los demás, sean familia, amigos, conocidos o pareja, pero sobre todo ámate a ti, recuerda lo que aprendimos y es ‘no romperse en pedazos para mantener a los demás completos’, tal vez la lección más liberadora del mundo fue cuando nos quedó claro que cada persona es tan grande y completa que para ser feliz le basta con ella misma, entra a la vida de los otros para hacerla un poco mejor, vive con ellos, pero siempre para ti; estar rodeada de amor y personas mejora mucho la vida, pero tengo la certeza de que hasta el día de hoy tu más grande y bonito descubrimiento fue saber que eres una mujer completa, que aquello que necesitas está ahí, dentro de ti y que definitivamente, cada día tienes la posibilidad de ser la mujer más feliz de tu vida.

Te amo incondicional, sincera e infinitamente, estoy aquí contigo y solo quise recordarte que esta es nuestra aventura, hagamos que valga la pena el viaje.

Sonríe, que me encanta cuando lo haces, y recuerda qué bonita estás y debes ser feliz...💖🌹🌻🌷🙌

[ueda-kibikino]

Será prudente liberar mis emociones y sentimientos a este desenfreno, me da miedo, pero puede más mis deseos de ser amada y sentirme protegida.

No se que debería hacer.

[closerssst]

Siempre escribo cosas de ti, sinceramente tengo miedo de que un día tomes mi cuaderno y lo encuentres; el incontenible cumulo de emociones que se resguardan detrás de los ojos, los ojos que miras con tanta emoción al encontrarme. Siempre quiero decirte que todo está bien, que todo ha pasado, pero la verdad cada vez que me llamas "mía" quiero ir corriendo hacia ti, como si no me preocupara absolutamente nada.

Porque sueles hablar descaradamente de mi, diciendo que soy inteligente, que soy prudente, que soy constante, que soy amable y que además de todo yo te quiero, tal vez dirás que no es verdad, pero me he enterado cuando estabas ebrio en víspera de navidad. Dices todo eso porque sabes que no soy capaz, pero sé que tienes el mismo miedo, yo no te quiero porque seas inteligente, prudente, constante y amable, de hecho eres todo lo contrario; eres tonto, impulsivo, cambiante y un poco grosero, y por eso te quiero y tú me quieres porque yo te quiero, a pesar de ser así.

Si algún día volvemos a estar juntos, no sabes si podremos permanecer así mucho tiempo, por eso tienes miedo, pero yo, más bien tengo miedo de quedarnos así por siempre.

REDFRUIT❥