#gifts for granddaughter necklace | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arcielee · 8 months

Text

Ours never knew peace.

Summary: On the morning of the Great Tourney of Harrenhal, Lyanna Stark's granddam visits to give her an heirloom, a necklace with a sapphire stone... Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader Word Count: 7600 Warnings: Third POV and first POV, AFAB, mentions of infidelity, graphic violence, character deaths, and there is a hyperlink for the smut, so mind those warnings too. Author’s Note: I definitely played with the timeline of the Dance of the Dragons a lot to fit with the narrative. Also, the idea is the bloodline stems from Cregan Stark's sister, which is why Lyanna's granddam is still kicking. Also, this was not beta read, please feel free to DM me any mistakes you may find 💜 A huge thank you to my Tumblr kindred spirits: to @aegonx for this inspiring gifset, and to my darling @itbmojojoejo for these perfect dividers 🦝💜 Also, to Hozier. I started writing this in June and had not touched it until I started listening to Unreal Unearth. The title for this and the smutty one-shot are from the song Francesca.

“I have a gift for you, my dear.”

Lyanna was leaning against the ornate balustrade and watching how the sun rose above Gods Eye. She drank in the sight of how the rays danced against the blue-green gemstone surface, shimmering with the rippling waves that met with the shoreline and towards the center where the Isle of Faces jutted upwards; she saw the weirwoods shift lazily with the breeze, its red foliage breaking away and littering the laketop, like drops of blood.

She pulled her eyes away to see her granddam standing in her room, poised with her walking cane; a handmaiden was in tow, carrying a wooden box that had once been intricately carved into, though its detailing was now worn with age.

Her granddamn was the matriarch of House Stark and the only mother figure she had ever known as hers passed away when she was very young, leaving Lyanna with her father and three brothers: Brandon, Eddard, and Benjen. Though she originally had come from a noble house in Oldcastle, she had been proud to don the grays and whites of House Stark, dignified in such a way it seemed that she was born into and not just married.

Her reputation was notorious and though some would consider her shrewd, Lyanna knew her granddam had a sharp mind and wit, an undeniable ability to see beyond the façades of court with her storm colored eyes; she was gallant, devoted to her husband until his last breath and remained in Winterfell after, her devotion extending to the North.

“This is my home,” she had explained as if it was the simplest thing. “Always.”

Time now showed itself in silver streaks, a bold contrast with her dark hair that had been meticulously combed and knotted at the base of her neck, showing the severity that lined her features. This look alone had the other handmaidens–who before had been aimlessly flitting around her room, coaxing Lyanna to ready for the day’s events–quickly excuse themselves, allowing her a moment alone with her granddaughter.

“Set it there,” and the remaining handmaiden jumped to command, placing the wooden box on the vanity before following after the others.

There was the click of her cane with her sure steps, one hand resting on the gilded handles and the other coming to place on the edge of the wooden box, its brass hinges groaning in response to her opening it. Placed against the velvet inlay was a necklace of a peculiar silver that did not shine, but seemed to permeate a strength despite its delicate, celtic chains interwoven with one another; its pendant, a sapphire stone no larger than a silver pence, was nestled in the same style, curled around to hold it in place.

Only the stone gleamed, just like the water’s surface–alluring, calling, but she kept her hand at her side. “It is beautiful,” Lyanna acknowledged.

“It is reforged Valyrian steel,” her granddam continued, and she was pleased to see how her eyes widened with a reverence for the rare medium. “This is a heirloom that has been passed down, once belonging to your thrice over granddam. It is something for you to wear today.”

Lyanna remained rooted, only a wistful sigh in response. “This is my duty in life now, to be adorned in gems and silks and rare silvers, just to be shown off at this event.”

“It is our lot in life, yes,” her tone cut through the self-wallow. “Lord Whent wants nothing more than to parade the money he poured into this cursed castle, to show off his simple-minded daughter to the highest bid. The queen of love and beauty,” and her laugh was sharp, “only her brothers would defend that nepotist title!”

Lyanna felt her lips curl; she loved her granddam, dearly, especially when she was unabashed with her bold opinions. Her eyes fell back to the necklace. “Love and beauty,” Lyanna murmured. “No man has want for a clever wife.”

It was her turn to sigh. “This can be true, but some are fortunate with their matches.”

“Robert has no want for a clever wife,” Lyanna continued as if she had not spoken. “He wants something docile and pretty at his side while he wags his cock at every set of tits in Westeros.” She could see how the inside sagged with the weight of the necklace and a bundle of parchment that was tucked beneath, hidden in the folds of the fabric.

Her granddam plucked the paper bundled together with string and then moved back towards one of the overstuffed chairs in front of the fireplace. “My dear girl, love is always unexpected. Perhaps in time, despite the faults you each share,” she gave a knowing look as Lyanna moved back towards the bed, “you, hopefully, may have a gradual love and respect grow between.”

“He is already convinced it is love,” she sat back on the mattress, sinking against the goose feather pillows piled at the head. “But it is with this idea of me. He does not know me, who I am truly or what it is that drives me…” her eyes were drawn again to the box, opened still, and to the glint of the sapphire. “How did this come to our possession anyway?”

“It was a gift,” her granddam scoffed, untying the string and smoothing the letters on her lap.

Lyanna closed her eyes a moment, her own smile playing at her lips. “Yes,” her tone forced, “but who would have gifted this to her to begin with?”

Her granddam hummed, now her turn to smile. “How clever of you to ask, sweet girl,” but she did not answer Lyanna. “I saw how you are blossoming into a lovely young woman, especially after last night’s banquet,” and she saw that her granddaughter grinned, cheeky. “Ancestry has its weight with House Stark, and I thought now is the time to gift this necklace, just as your grandsire gifted it to me, and how it was given to your mother, who listened to me read this, years ago,” and she gestured to the letters.

Lyanna reached for the pillows, fluffing them and sinking back into them, her arms folding behind to hold her head upright. “I would never deny my granddam of my company,” she teased.

“Yes, how kind of you,” her tongue wet her lips, her eyes flitting over the first page. “Now shut up and let my old eyes read.”

And so she began.

It was the unmartyred act of my mother to bring me into the world. My father was a proud man, an honorable man who would never blame me, but I could see how he would wilt in my presence; perhaps it was that I reminded him of her as I grew, reminded him of the cost of her life so I may live instead. My brother, Cregan, kept his grief quiet, though it clouded his storm-gray eyes with this pain, this hurt that shadowed behind his irises.

With the unsaid, I know my existence haunted my father, Lord Rickon Stark, the Warden of the North, to his grave. It was only then that Cregan truly recognized me with our sorrow now shared, as well as the burden as our uncle Bennard was quick to come to Winterfell, bringing his shrewd wife and his sons, our wretched cousins.

I could only watch from the shadows with how Cregan fought to stay afloat with the smothering regency brought with them; our uncle was cunning, wishing to isolate my brother, which was why it was decided for me to be sent away to King’s Landing. It was under the promised lady-in-waiting for Princess Helaena Targaryen, though its true intention was for me to marry a Targaryen prince, for the opportunity to have a Stark within the royal inner circle and a direct line to the Iron Throne.

Cregan hugged me farewell, the whispered promise that he would write, and I was ushered into the carriage, cramped with my trunks, and my aunt Margaret, with her wardrobe and endless idylls of how I would lure King Aegon II.

I reminded her that King Viserys was not dead, and of the crowned Princess Rhaenyra. She bristled with her response: “No woman will ever rule the Seven Kingdoms.” She embellished this, and her inane plans to make me a princess; I had just turned ten and three with the soured taste of her words the further south we traveled.

We arrived at the capital almost two months later, coming as the last of the daylight disappeared in the horizon, with the full moon and stars already glowing in response. I wished to sleep, but was forced to bathe, to be soaked in a gilded tub with rose petals that floated on the surface while hands flitted over combing and scrubbing and cleaning every bit of me, all while my aunt hovered with her critiques.

The next day was our debut luncheon, allowing my formal introduction to the House of the Dragon. My aunt was peevish that the king did not join, we still met with the queen and Lord Hand, who introduced Prince Aegon and Princess Helaena.

It was said that Prince Daeron was away in Oldtown and Prince Aemond would not attend either, but did not speak more of it.

The prince and the princess held their old blood features, the shades of purple in their gazes and the gold-silver of their hair, a contrast to their mother’s auburn and her dark eyes that were watchful and worrisome.

Prince Aegon already had an exhaustion lining his face, with shadows that stretched beneath his lilac eyes, something heavy for someone only two years older than myself. In time I would learn that his shoulders sagged with the forced Hightower expectation placed, and its accompanying slow suffocation. The prince responded to it as well as any adolescent with unwanted responsibility: to rebel.

The princess–who we learned, to the woe of my aunt–was his betrothed, but that day she also became my savior, in a sense. Though she carried her own burdens, something deeply rooted within the ichor of Old Valyria that surged her veins, her company was enjoyable, nonetheless.

I enjoyed my time spent with the princess, learning of her fascination with entomology, with a favoritism that stemmed towards arachnids; though I found it unsettling, I still knew it was better company than my aunt. I was devoted to the task to fill mason jars with dirt, leaves, sticks to create little habitats for her ever growing collection, and it became our daily ritual to walk the gardens of the Red Keep, always in search of more to add or to release others who dutifully served their time in their glass confines.

One thing I noted was her utterances, her singsong riddles on repeat. “Be mindful,” she said with a hum one afternoon.

“Of what, princess?”

“A song of ice and fire,” her eyes were glassy, sorrowful. “It is a tragedy, again and again…”

My evenings were held captive by my aunt and her ever growing determination to force her way into the royal social circles; her daily mantra to remind me of the two remaining Targaryen princes, how I need my focus to be on snaring one of them.

I knew that Prince Daeron was a child and away in Oldtown, which left the second son of King Viserys, Prince Aemond, who I thought peculiar and quiet. He was isolated the first six months after we arrived, and I heard the whispered incident at Diftmark that had involved the crowned princess and her bastard sons; I also learned how it ended with the loss of his eye, but that was not learned until Princess Helaena brought me to visit with her brother.

“It would be good for him,” and her lilac eyes sparkled.

He was sullen, but rightfully so; he was still bandaged and refused the milk of the poppy, though I knew he was hurting, his anguish was vicariously heard with the roars of his dragon, Vhagar, whose bellows rattled the entire capital, leaving the inhabitants uneasy.

Eventually, Prince Aemond healed enough to leave his room, though the queen was still adamant he not venture outside of the Keep. I watched him, a dragon caged, stalking the corridors, a dark passing in search of confrontation, his unbridled want for vengeance and his inability to see it through; a tormented unrest, an unruly anger from the injustice of what happened that fateful night at Driftmark.

I had been present for over a year and would inevitably have the misfortune to cross his warpath, alone, without my shield of his sister. It was a foreboding presence that drained the air, a palpable anger that hung heavy, and I flinched, perched by the window, curled up with Ten Thousand Ships.

“What are you doing here?” He spat.

I remember how his anger darkened his features shown, but the rest was still hidden beneath bandages wrapped around his silver head. “Reading,” was all I dared reply, refusing to look away from the pages as if the very tale of Nymeria held me captive.

“They educate the women in the North?”

His words were mocking and this is when I pulled my eyes away to meet with his one uncovered. “The North does not only teach their women how to read, but how to fight as well, my prince,” my tongue had a life of its own I could not control, sneering his title in return.

Her granddam paused a moment, peering over the edge to see how Lyanna had shifted; she was now closer towards the foot of the bed, curled up with one of the pillows, her eyes glowing with admiration.

“My great-great-great granddam was fearless,” Lyanna concluded.

She chuckled in response. “It is a trait in Stark women, that is for certain,” she clucked her tongue. “Stark men also search for strong women to survive the winters. Maybe another day I will tell you about your great-great-great aunt Alysanne Blackwood.”

Her eyes shone. “I would like that very much.”

And then, her granddam continued.

I would learn that Prince Aemond was just lonely; allowed out of his quarters, his mar was forever isolating with how the castled treated him with kid gloves, like an open wound that never healed despite the jagged red of new flesh mended, cutting from his brow to his cheek and peeking beneath the eyepatch he took to wearing. Though he would never apologize for that day in the library, the next time I found him within the walls I saw he was lost in the pages of Winter’s Kings, or the Legends and Lineages of the Starks of Winterfell.

I could only assume it was all the apology that could be expected of a dragon prince.

Our friendship was something predetermined by the gods, or this was what Princess Helaena wholeheartedly believed; for a time, we were a trio of lonely souls akin and knitted together until the princess inevitably became pregnant with the twins. And then, there was the subtle change of our dynamic with the seasons passed, an initial wariness that settled in the edges of his features that only softened whenever I took his hand and pulled him forward.

Perhaps he believed that I would abandon him for his sister’s company, which would be expected of her lady-in-waiting. But I did not.

Instead I indulged the prince and his company, and we became inseparable; whether we visited with his sister, playing with the little prince and princess, while Helaena budding with a third, or going to the courtyards to train under Ser Criston’s watchful eye and my aunt’s apparent disdain. It was then that the evenings became our own and spent in the library of the Keep; it was here that Aemond dared remove his eyepatch, the sapphire stone that showed brilliant from his scarred socket.

The first time, I stepped closer so his nervous exhale fanned my cheeks; I could see the plumes of pinks to his features, my fingers ghosting his jawline as I attempted his ancient tongue. “Gevie.”

Beautiful.

Prince Aemond was respectful, always, but he was also fearless with me, allowing the same sense of freedom in return, to speak my mind as I always had. But I faltered with what I truly wished to say: that the years crafted him beautiful as any Targaryen prince, with sharp edges chiseled from marble stone, his lips that curled with a perpetual smirk as he voiced his peculiar insight which always led to a good natured battlement between us, leaving me flushed.

And then the day came that he took my hand, that his palm now enveloped my own.

It was the familiar touch now paired with a feeling, a fluttering in the pit of my stomach that I could not place, though writing these words allows a clearer perspective with the retrospect: that I was falling in love with him.

My aunt grew more insufferable with the passing days, though I expected as much with the letters I exchanged with Cregan. I knew his every action in Winterfell, what he was learning, of his sweetheart Lady Arra Norrey, my new nephew, but mostly of how our uncle continued to tighten his hold. My brother was a wolf, restless, and spoke that his hour was coming; and meanwhile, I continued to play my role, a simpleminded girl from the North.

My aunt tsked. “He will never see you as more than a plaything,” as if this was a cruel fate. In truth I was still so unaware of what was growing within the confines of my heart, but I knew that I only wished to remind at his side, devoted, present, always.

So when Aemond asked that I finally become acquainted with Vhagar, I went. I remembered how my hand fit within his as he pulled me to follow his steps, moving through the ingresses that weaved with the castle walls. We broke out to follow the coastline, a crisp salt air and the clouds covering the sun, heavy with the threat of rain, but Aemond promised we would rise above them.

I followed his long steps until we came to where Vhagar waited for her rider, diligent, alert.

Dragons are magnificent creatures, and I swear them sentient with the bond I saw between Aemond and the she-dragon. Fear trickled my spine, but Aemond held onto my hand and I tightened in response to the massive eyes that focused on us, her pupils constricting in query. Aemond held up his other hand, the honey spill of his soothing voice of his old tongue to coax her and allow me to climb aback.

I then felt the gaze of Aemond and refused to allow my fear to root me, moving to take the bottom rung of the rope ladder; he was pleased, a hum, the slight curl of his lips, and followed behind me with his promise that he would not let me fall. At the top, he pushed past to settle into the saddle, then reached to pull me behind and I settled against his backside.

“Just hold onto me,” he murmured, bringing my arms around his slender waist.

This moment I was adamantly aware that he was no longer that sullen child that sneered within his gilded cage, but against my hold that Aemond was solid, lithe, and so warm with a woodsy musk mixed with smoke against his skin.

Pressed against, I was able to feel his low baritone command Vhagar, followed by her jolted steps forward, the beating of her wings to take flight. To feel this power beneath you is indescribable; I could not help my scream, my laughter from the exhilaration that that spate my veins; I dared not close my eyes, tears streaming, and I peered to marvel at how small the capital seemed beneath, how large the shadow we cast overhead.

It was a newfound euphoria, and I felt my cheeks burn from the crisp air above the gray clouds, but I also knew it was from my close proximity to Aemond. I held onto him as we soared out over Blackwater Bay, and sighed from the touch of his gloved hand, from the heat that permeated through the leather when he placed it over my own.

And I knew then that I never wished to let him go.

He eventually brought Vhagar back to land onto the grassy knolls outside the city; the afternoon was growing late but there was still enough light to return. Aemond warned that my legs would be shaky and again he moved first, again with the promise he would not let me fall.

I still trembled when he set me on the ground, his large palms kept their hold on my waist and my hands rested on his broad shoulders. My eyes were wide admiring the beauty of his mussed, silver braid, his cheeks lined with his dimples with his pursed grin. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Enjoy myself?” I was incredulous, I was a mess; windswept and blooming red, a grinning fool with tear-streaked cheeks, “Aemond, you showed me the heavens.” And a boldness pressed me onto my toes, my lips against his.

It was my first kiss; it was a heartbeat’s length, it was everything, and when I pulled back, I fell solid to the earth, my soles grounded back on that gassy knoll. I looked up into his bicolored gaze, the lavender of one eye and the gleam of sapphire for the other that stared back.

Aemond was unreadable in that moment, and I felt my blood surge from my heart and pour into my face; the quiet that settled between us the same length of the years I had spent in King’s Landing, a choking regret that burned in my throat with the thought that I had ruined everything built between us.

Then he kissed me back.

And I felt alive once more with the touch of his arm that curled around my waist, how his other hand followed the curve of my spine, tangling into my hair and holding me to capture my mouth. His lips were warm and soft and his tongue clever in a way that drew the very breath from my lungs. I melted against him, my fingertips soft to follow the sharp contours of his jaw, trailing his neck and grasping his collar to bring him even closer.

We only parted for air; the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath his riding leathers, the crimson on his cheeks with his quiet confession, something he held close to his heart.

“For how long?” I breathed

And he thought for a moment. “Always.”

To take his hand now was finding a piece that I did not know was missing from me; our fingers interlaced in a way that felt akin as if I held my own hand, though I knew it was him from the warmth of his skin, from the fire in his blood. By now the tendrils of dusk began to curl over the city, its amber hues bold against the blues and purples of the coming nightfall, but we continued our leisure pace back, Aemond and I.

We were greeted by the gold cloaks at the gates and they escorted us back, and though he did not let go, I saw that it was no longer Aemond who held my hand but the second son of King Viserys, a Targaryen prince. He was stoic, but this time I could tell the other emotions that flittered beneath, his uncertainty of what awaited, but above that was his determination.

We finally came to the barbican of the Keep where we were greeted by his queen mother, my aunt, and several White Cloaks.

Relief washed over the queen while my aunt raged, lifting her skirts to meet us in the courtyard, her nails biting with her grip on my arm and pulling me back; the rushed spill of her words, “I cannot believe this unseemly behavior of a lady, unchaperoned with a prince! We are leaving this moment–”

I tried to twist away but she held on still, a madwoman. Aemond moved after, quick, and his anger burning from him and his long legs moved to block her path. “She will not be leaving.”

The finality of his words, the barrier his form created halted her at once and I felt my heart between my teeth. “My prince,” she stammered in response. “We must leave this very moment! We have imposed on your hospitality far too long as it is, and when my lord husband hears of her behaviors–”

But she was unaware that Cregan and I wrote, dutifully; he shared his life within the walls of Winterfell, as well as his growing concern with the regency our uncle imposed still. She also did not know the newest letter I had received, how my brother was now the proper Warden of the North and our uncle imprisoned; my aunt paled with my words and it was commanded for her to be taken away. She did not leave quietly, her wails echoed and I watched impassively, knowing her every action was a self-serving and a selfish ploy for power for herself, her husband, for those wretched cousin kin in the North.

And I knew I would not miss any of them.

Ever the diplomat, the queen stepped forward with her congratulations for my brother, her condolences for the betrayal within our family, her practiced concern for my well being and its shift to confusion that knitted between her brows when she saw how I smiled at her son. She offered my escort back to Winterfell, but I was quick to decline as I knew I could not leave Aemond.

I saw the understanding began to roll over, and she then asked her son if he loved me. Aemond responded, “I believe I always have, mother,” and I knew I loved him in return.

It was decided that the ceremony would be held in the Royal Sept, and chaperoned until, though Aemond stole a moment to gift me this very necklace. I could feel the power of Old Valyria thrum from the metal, adoring how it was woven around the sapphire stone; he told me it was a piece kept from the same stone fitted for his eye.

I lifted my hair and turned my back towards him, my skin prickling from his touch to clasp the necklace around my throat.

He hummed. “Gevie.”

Only a week later, and the service seemed surreal. I felt his warmth that held to the robe he brought around my shoulders, the touch of my palm on top of his large hand kept me grounded while the Septon wrapped the ribbon around; shy glances shared, me to Aemond and seeing his gaze on the sapphire stone beneath my collarbone. The muted words called for a kiss and I burned when Aemond captured my mouth with his own.

The celebration after was an intimate meal with the king, who was a man withering away beneath a gilded mark, the queen, his siblings, and the Lord Hand, who seemed pleased with the idea of solidifying a truce with the North.

But I could not think of politics this night, not with the subtle touches from Aemond, a warmth that curled in my lower abdomen when he inevitably took my hand, his low voice that tickled against my ear. “Come with me, my sweet wife,” as we walked towards his quarters.

Her granddam stopped abruptly, flushed. “Well, you understand what is implied.”

“Understand what?” Lyanna quirked her brow.

It was a pregnant pause that allowed her eyes steel onto her granddaughter, and Lyanna returned her gaze with a cheeky, taunting grin.

“It would serve you well to not agitate your elders.”

“What a bore I would be if I was just another docile woman of nobility?” Lyanna countered, gleefully. “Granddam, Robert has bastards and I am no fool, I do not believe his immaculate conception claims…”

“Yes, you are very bright,” she huffed. “Now hush up and let me read.”

Our marital bliss that followed left me in a haze; Aemond was not one for public displays of affection and how I craved his subtle touches, his lingering hand that would have me blushing furiously in response. He would only hum, his perpetual smirk that played on his lips with my every visceral response to him.

I wrote to Cregan and informed him of our union; he was quick to respond with his congratulations, as well as his newfound concerns, asking if it was true that the crowned princess had sired bastards with the intention to make them her heirs without ownership of her actions.

“Our father was honorable until his last breath,” he wrote, “I would not besmirch his memory or our house, our legacy, for an oath made for bastard-born heirs to the Iron Throne.”

This was a topic I had already discussed in length with Aemond, even before we had even kissed. I was aware of his scar and its cause, and I knew of the old blood and the features lacking when it came to his nephews, something made apparent for the claimant hearings of Dirftmark, as well as the cruel response of Prince Daemon when a lord spoke out loud what the court was thinking.

I answered my brother truthfully, knowing full well that this would sway the North behind Prince Aegon II.

And then King Viserys met his inevitable demise; the small council moved quick to announce that his final words were that he wished his firstborn son to take the crown. Aegon panicked, but my husband and Ser Criston fetched him, washed him, fed him, but also comforted him.

It would be Ser Criston who coaxed him to the coronation, to be the one to place the crown of steel and rubies on top of his silver head, announcing: “King Viserys is dead, long live King Aegon!”

My husband would be sent to Storm’s End to negotiate a betrothal for his brother, Daeron, to one of the Four Storms. It resulted in tragedy, or vengeance on who spoke the narrative. The room stilled with Aemond’s words, the unspoken terror in the queen’s large, brown eyes, the shock that lined the severe features of the Lord Hand, but it was his brother, King Aegon wearing the Conqueror’s Crown who spoke that Aemond had shown the true blood of a dragon.

But in the quiet quarters we shared, Aemond lamented the loss of life, the war it started, a guilt that weighed heavily, and once more I saw the sorrowful prince when I first came to King’s Landing.

“There will be repercussions for my actions,” he rasped, unable to meet with my eyes. “I have ruined my namesake, and I have cursed our family…”

“War seemed inevitable,” I began slowly, my hands careful to hold his jaw, to bring his gaze to my own. “And with it comes rash decisions, with impossible choices to be made…I trust it was not intentional, but even if it was, cursed or not, I am still yours, husband.” A soft kiss to seal my words. “Always.”

War and its bloodshed was rampant in Westeros, and my brother wrote they would travel South when winter ended to help King Aegon with his rightful claim. I feared for the delay, for what would follow Storm’s End, and how it seemingly unleashed the Rogue Prince.

Hired men with the monikers Blood and Cheese came in the night, and I knew them to be sent for me, as one repeated, “An eye for an eye, a son for son,” but followed with his slow realization, “she is not a son,” before his sword was drawn and struck Prince Jaehaerys.

The screams of Helaena resounded against the cobblestone; Aemond found us covered in blood, his rage and his grief conflicting on his angular features. The king cried for vengeance for his firstborn son, to search for these men and place their heads on spikes; the kingdom was repulsed by the murder of the princeling, a martyr made with his blood spilled.

Aegon’s bloodlust made for rash decisions and the battle of Rook’s Rest; though one dragon and its rider slain, its cost was the king crippled in a way that he was not fit to rule. So Aemond stepped forward to take the title Prince Regent and the Protector of the Realm, a natural role that was suited for the second son.

The Rogue Prince struck against the Riverlands, torching until ash remained. In response, the now Prince Regent and Ser Criston left to claim Harrenhal.

I was told to wait, to remain at the side of our grieving queen, my sister by all accounts; I watched over sweet Helaena, coaxing her to eat, washing her, sitting alongside her in the haunting silence of the quarters that somehow still echoed her screams from that fateful night. We were often left alone, as the maesters and the dowager queen never left King Aegon’s side, and I remained with her until I received the latest letter from Aemond.

Harrenhal had been dispelled of every Strong traitor to the crown, and he spoke of a witch he wished me to meet, that I was to leave King’s Landing and be by his side, as the gods ordained.

A quick kiss to the silver head of Helaena and I left the castle, careful to retrace our steps that led to the coast and I continued until I was back on the grassy knolls from what felt like a lifetime ago. I waited the skies until I felt the rumbled call of Vhagar in the distance, gleeful when she finally landed and watched my prince descend to envelope me in his arms, his whispered adoration, “My love, my sweet wife.”

We returned to Harrenhal to meet with the witch he spared, a hushed reverence when he told me of her abilities. “She sees much and more.”

I could see she was hardened by life, but her expression was kind when she greeted us; her eyes roamed around, watchful, looking through to my bones and only then did I understand what my husband meant.

At supper, we sat around the table, along with Ser Criston, and her eyes watched the flicker of candlelight, the flames licking her irises, before she spoke: “Madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a new Targaryen is born, the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land.”

Aemond finished chewing before he asked her. “And I am which?”

Alys’ eyes were black, her painted lips curled and framed around her pearl teeth. “To be the greatness, you must end the madness,” was all that she offered, and then, “the Rogue Prince is coming.”

Ser Criston looked uneasy, but it was a silent understanding in regards to her statement, something that pressed heavily on us both. King Aegon could only have a true chance to rule the realm if his sister lost the power she had with her husband, the Rogue Prince; it was known that he was unruly, untamed, but loyal to a fault, and willing to see it through to its brutal end.

That night, we fell back into an intimate embrace, cherishing the feeling of skin to skin–

Her granddam was crimson. “Oh, my, I believe I should skip this as well–”

She watched her granddam a moment, the intrusive thought to take the letters for her own readthrough, but it was muted by a growing sadness that began to settle in the edges of her sharp features. Lyanna knew well the history of the Dance of the Dragons, something scrawled on scrolls and tomes, its tragedy saved in ink and tucked away.

And still, she had to know this truth.

“Please,” and her voice was soft. “Please, continue.”

And granddam did.

It was the 22nd day of the 5th moon and we waited on the shores of Gods Eye, myself, Aemond, and the witch. Ser Criston rode North to meet with my brother, and we remained, waiting.

It had been a vision for Alys, something sinister; it was no surprise when the wyrm screeched its arrival, circling above, wary of Vhagar, before finally landing. Prince Daemon had an arrogance with his dismount, with his walk towards us.

There was a symmetry as they squared towards one another; the Rogue Prince was cloaked with the past and my Aemond embodied the future, the true hope for House Targaryen. My husband faced him, unflinching, his brow furrowed with his ever present determination, while Daemon rolled his eyes over the each of us, sucking his teeth.

Aemond broke the silence. “You were a fool to come alone.”

“Were I not alone, you would not have come,” Daemon was amused.

But it did not deter my dragon. “Yet you are, and here I am,” he sighed. “You have lived too long, nuncle.”

“On that much we agree.”

The prince retreated to his wyrm and Aemond looked to me, his eye pleading, the glassy lavender that bore through my skin, and the gleam of sapphire for the other. He then dipped forward to kiss me and the tears pearling in the corners of my eyes spilled onto my cheeks at the taste of him, the touch of him; I knew I could never imagine anyone else. Those words stilled on my tongue, how I wanted him to beg to stay with me, but I also knew that he must.

“Do not say it,” my voice broke, hushed against our kiss swollen lips. “Just come back to me.”

His two fingers pressed against the sapphire pendant I wore, before leaning forward to press his lips to my hairline, and then he climbed aback Vhagar, his lithe body quick to mount. I remained on the sand with the witch at my side, and we watched these winged beasts rise above us.

Dragons are truly magnificent, but they are also equally deadly. I trusted Vhagar was loyal to Aemond, but also knew it matched by the bond shared between Prince Daemon and his wyrm. It was said that Targaryens are closer to gods than to men, and I believed this as I watched them on dragonback, circling above the massive lake. Their roars vibrated through to our bones, the snapping of the jaws like cracks of lighting and their flames that singed the threads of my gown from my place on the shore.

My eyes did not leave, and I asked Alys. “Will he live?”

She was quiet for a moment. “The memory of him will live on,” and I felt her hand reach and touch my stomach.

And all I could do was hold onto my pendant with prayers to the old golds, to the new gods for mercy for my husband, whose child I carried.

They did not listen.

It was a clash of scale and bone, something that reverberated to Harrenhal and rattled the castle walls that still stood. The wyrm’s screams were cut short as the massive maw of Vhagar clamped onto its neck, and its talons flailed and cut deep into the old dragon’s underside. Blood rained onto the lake and I watched, struck with mortification at the dull glint of Valyrian armor, the flash raise of Dark Sister, and I knew it was over.

I remained on the shore as the waves created from the fall of dead dragons crashed against the sand, a blood foam that flooded and wet my skirts. I remained still as the sun tucked beneath the horizon, until I heard the call of the witch.

“My lady, the wolves have arrived.”

This would be the shift of power needed for King Aegon II; the Rogue Prince was dead and his men fell to the sword under the command of my brother and Ser Criston. Cregan was shocked to see me and I was stoic still, dumbstruck with my grief that did not feel real; we returned to King’s Landing with the Northern army, quick to dethrone Rhaenyra and place her in the cells with the company of all the lords who supported her.

King Aegon was scarred cruelly with a gimp to his steps, but he made his way to the Iron Throne, his crown of rubies and steel, and greeted his mother and the queen. This joyous moment died as I was tasked to share the news of the death of Aemond, of my husband and father of my unborn child; we cried our heartbreak, but I had no tears left.

This pivotal moment would be known as the Hour of the Wolf by our history. It will speak of the heroism of Prince Aemond and what he sacrificed to kill the Rogue Prince, of how my brother descended onto the capital with a vengeance and helped return the throne to its rightful heir. The casualties of war included the bastard princes, as well as both sons of the king.

When King Aegon learned that Prince Daeron the Daring met his fatal end, he decided mercy on the remaining Targaryen princelings, Aegon III and Viserys II, with his solemn vow to raise them as his own, as his heirs to the Iron Throne.

Cregan served as Lord Hand through my pregnancy, for the birth of my darling Lysara with a patch of silver that showed against her dark curls and her eyes the same as her father’s, lavender. My brother had also been widowed but met the Lady Alysanna Blackwood, a woman I admired fiercely, and Lysara was smitten with, and was thrilled when I learned I could call her sister.

It was then Cregan asked to be relieved so he could return to the North, to his son, and I asked to go with him. My time in King’s Landing was over, with every stone haunted with presence of Aemond; I already swore I would never marry again, would not dare have another set of hands touch and taint the memory of his hands against my body, his touch forever etched onto my skin and seeded into the marrow of my bones.

Aemond would return to me at night, a silver dream, my body thrumming with the warmth of his touch, his gentle kiss, the low murmur of his voice, but it always ended the same: my realization when my hands pressed to his chest and felt no heartbeat.

That I would never feel it again.

The pain of losing him has not dimmed nor diminished with time, but I do not mind it as it serves as my reminder that he was real, and that the love we shared was real.

As the witch predicted, Aemond also still lived within Lysara who was solemn, brilliant, and as determined and stubborn as he had been. I made sure to do an annual trip to King’s Landing, allowing her to meet her granddam, her royal family, and so that my daughter could learn that her blood not only held that of the Andals, the first men, but also of the fire that licks within her veins.

Which is also why I write this, along with the gift of the necklace. It holds legacy, but also the reminder of the words Queen Helaena spoke to me when we were girls, something said a lifetime ago and before I could comprehend the weight of them.

There is something in the blood of House Stark that calls out to these dragons, perhaps an ancient power of the old gods or a kindred spirit, the disparate bond of ice and fire, a clash that is brilliant, violent, and tragic, always.

As she once said: a song of ice and fire, it is a tragedy, again and again…

It ended with a finality that rested against her chest. This was a tragic history of the crown, something already written with facts and dates, but this was a personal storying stemming from the blood of Stark woman, and only now did Lyanna begin to understand how the stories remained so vivid, so detailed despite its years of retelling.

But also…

“What does this mean for me?” Her voice was soft, an almost childlike naivety to her tone. “I am already engaged to Robert Baratheon.”

Her granddam watched her, a tight lipped smile in response as her mind returned to the feast of last night, to the looks shyly exchanged between her granddaughter and the crowned prince, Rhaegar Targaryen, as he played his harp for her. It left her unsettled with a hunch, an inkling about this interaction.

Instead she agreed. “You are right,” and she sighed. “Let me help you get dressed for the tourney.”

The new Harranhal swelled with the life for the festivities, with the kingdoms’ best sent in response of Lord Whent’s invites; the new cobblestone seemed bright against the darkened foundation that still held, its ghosts trapped still and trampled underfoot by the crowds as the seats filled, the echoing chattered excitement that vibrated.

It dimmed with a hushed reverence to see Prince Rhaegar Targaryen entering the field on his steed; his lavender eyes scanned the masses, an intent to spot one soul in particular, and she unknowingly called to him with her sweet smile, by the glint of the sapphire that rested against her chest.

There's not one thing that I would change.

Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @schniiipsel @aemondx @fan-goddess @babygirlyofthevale @httpsdoll @theromanticegoist @assortedseaglass @amiraisgoingthruit @theoneeyedprince @babyblue711 @girlwith-thepearlearring @lauraneedstochill @snowprincesa1 @hb8301 @lovelykhaleesiii @darylandbethfanforever9 @namelesslosers

arcie's masterlist

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x stark!reader #tragic romance #inspired by hozier #ours never knew peace #rhaegar targaryen #lyanna stark #rhaegar x lyanna

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quotergirl19 · 1 year

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Am I the only one going through the whole Queen Charlotte show wondering what things are going to be parallels/similar within Colin & Penelope’s love story?

Is Colin going to give Penelope a “gesture” gift like a dog or will it be a necklace?

Is he going to catch Penelope dancing alone and join her in a scene like Brimsley and Reynolds?

Will we see Polin snuggle up in bed with wine and snacks like Breynolds?

Will Penelope assume that Colin has something going on with another woman after they’ve kissed and Colin will deny it because he isn’t thinking of anything but Penelope but she won’t be sure she believes him? Like when Brimsley asked Reynolds if he had another, “rider,”

Will it be during an argument that Penelope or Colin confesses their love, the way George admits he loves Charlotte after she yells at him?

Will Colin get angry with Penelope and start mouthing off until Penelope asks him if she should just leave and he tells her yes, leave now, but stops her when she turns to walk away… will that be our, “stay,” moment?

Will they sleep together before Penelope has admitted she’s Whistledown resulting in her getting pregnant, but she finds out while Colin is being distant because he’s discovered she’s Whistledown and he’s angry with her… will that lead to her ask him if wants nothing to do with her so she knows if she’s alone in the world and going to have to raise their child without him?

Will Polin use Eloise’s telescope and admire Venus together?

Will Penelope pick up Colin’s journals and sexy drawings, like regency era porn in Colin’s journal fall out, leading him to explain sex to Penelope the way Lady Danbury explained it to QC?

Will Violet acknowledge that she has a soft spot for Penelope because she relates to her and is sympathetic to her because her own mother, Lady Ledger was so much like Portia?

Will Colin be bad with buttons or particularly good with them as a callback to KG’s first time with QC? Maybe Colin will rip her bodice because he hates buttons and it was Polin go time on the floor of the carriage.

Will Penelope have a birthday during season 3 and Violet calls on her with a birthday hat she made and notices a gift Colin said he bought for his friend while traveling?

Will Pen find out that Portia secretly told Colin that if he cares so much about the Featherington name because of his friendship with Penelope, he should marry Prudence since he scared off her fiancé/their head of house and the scandal is effecting Penelope’s chances of finding a husband. But Colin knows what he’d said is hurting Penelope’s chances too. So Portia barely has to convince Colin because he’s ready to do be a hero for his Pen, but before he can offer for her, Portia tries to entice him by mentioning her first grandson will inherit the Featherington title. Colin agrees but instead wants to marry Penelope on the condition that Portia never tell Penelope about their conversation. He wants to marry Pen but he doesn’t want her to think he did it for the title. So Polin get married and it’s clear they’re genuinely happy together and in love but then Penelope overhears gossip about how her mother offered Colin the title for his firstborn son if he married Penelope. Penelope is deeply hurt thinking Colin pretended to want to marry her and they have a fight and just to be spiteful he demands that they still have sex because he wants his heir and they start doing it on even or odd days?

Will Penelope have a difficult delivery leaving Colin terrified of losing his wife and child the way he nearly lost his mother and sister Hyacinth, and QC lost her granddaughter and great-granddaughter in childbirth?

Will Penelope visit Colin or Colin visit Penelope when they shouldn’t be alone and we get another “you can’t come in (oh he’s coming in alright)” moments like with Lord Ledger & lady Danbury?

So many questions!!!!

#quotergirl random thoughts #penelope featherington #polin #bridgerton #colin bridgerton #queen charlotte: a bridgerton story #queen charlotte #polin forever #penelope x colin #colin x penelope #violet bridgerton #lady danbury #king george #netflix bridgerton #shondaland #brimsley #Reynolds #brimsley x reynolds #breynolds

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film-classics · 5 months

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Movie: Cat On A Hot Tin Roof (1958)

Throughout the entirety of the film, a simple gold necklace with a dainty heart-shaped pendant is a staple of Margaret "Maggie the Cat" Pollitt (Elizabeth Taylor). The understated glam of the pendant and the simple elegance of her costumes designed by Helen Rose allows Elizabeth's performance to really shine through, especially since she is known for flaunting her legendary jewelry collection.

Her real-life third husband, film producer Mike Todd, had the necklace made for Elizabeth, along with an identical one for his mother, as a Valentine's Day gift. Elizabeth was photographed wearing it on February 12, 1958 during a press trip to Europe and the 1958 Golden Globe Awards.

The sentiment Elizabeth felt for the necklace was clearly attached to the fact that she received it shortly before Mike died in a plane crash on March 22, 1958. She wore the necklace constantly for almost two years after he died, including his funeral, her wedding to Eddie Fisher and as part of her costume in Suddenly, Last Summer (1959). It wasn’t until 1960 when Taylor landed on the set of Cleopatra (1963) in Rome that the necklace became less of a mainstay in her daily jewels.

Not much is known about the necklace's current location, but Elizabeth may have bequeathed it in her will, just as her former mother-in-law passed it down to her granddaughter, Liza Todd, Elizabeth's only daughter with Mike Todd since it is not part of any of the auctions to benefit the Elizabeth Taylor AIDS Foundation throughout the years as well as the Christie's live auction, The Collection of Elizabeth Taylor: The Legendary Jewels after her passing.

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warwickroyals · 4 months

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Sunderland's Royal Jewel Vault (10/∞) ♛

↬ Hesse Diamond Bandeau

This necklace-turned-tiara is one of the oldest in the royal vault. It originated in 1840 as a rivière of thirty-four brilliant diamonds. The diamonds were one of the hundreds of gifts the sixteen-year-old Princess Marie of Hesse received on the occasion of her wedding to Tsesarevich Alexander Nikolayevich, the future Emperor Alexander II of Russia. Marie, immortalized as Emperess Maria Alexandrovna, had a secluded upbringing in Darmstadt and found the opulence of the Imperial Russian court overwhelming, but she slowly began to identify with her adopted country over the years. Photographs depict the Empress drenched in jewels, including the diamond rivière, which she wore as a necklace. From here, the necklace's chain of inheritance gets a little muddy. Over the decades several of Empress Maria's daughters and daughters-in-law sported the necklace, yet there is no strong evidence of who owned the jewel following the Empress's death in 1880. Among others, two of the most notable wearers were Maria's successor Empress Maria Feodorovna (née Dagmar of Denmark) and her eldest daughter Queen Alexandra of Sunderland (née Grand Duchess Alexandra Alexandrovna). It is unclear which of Maria's female descendants owned the necklace, or if they had simply borrowed it for a time. Either way, the necklace eventually landed in the jewelry box of Queen Alexandra's daughter-in-law, Matilda Mary, and it remained in Sunderland from that point onwards. Matilda was never photographed wearing the necklace, but she eventually bequeathed the mysterious jewel to Katherine Rothman, her granddaughter-in-law, when she became Princess of Danforth in 1943. Katherine mainly opted to wear twenty-seven of the diamonds set on a tiara frame. She favoured this improvised bandeau for trips to the Royal Alexandra Opera House both during and after her tenure as Queen. As a tiara, the diamonds were practical and lightweight, better for evenings out than formal state events. The jewel's next wearer was Katherine's daughter-in-law Phyllis, who only ever wore the piece as a necklace, often pairing it with her Garland and Déléage Tiaras. The necklace was also worn without a tiara to many film premiers in the 80s and 90s. To this day these Hessian diamonds remain a popular staple of Phyllis's jewellery collection.

#warwick.jewels #ch: katherine #ch: phyllis #ts4 #ts4 story #ts4 storytelling #ts4 edit #ts4 royal legacy #ts4 legacy #ts4 royalty #ts4 monarchy #ts4 screenshots #✨

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joesalw · 5 months

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Doesn’t matter though, both are OOGLAY.

This! Her jewelry lately is absolutely hideous. She just looks tacky. It doesn't matter if that ring is from a friend or from TK bestie, it's tacky.

Compare the huge amount of jewelry she's been wearing lately (kitschy) to the jewelry she got from Joe Alwyn (that J necklace, that infinity bracelet). I'm sure it wasn't very expensive, he seems quite frugal, but it looked classy and timeless. The sort of pieces that your grandma could wear. Or your granddaughter 100 years into the future. Elegant and timeless.

If I learned anything from this circus is that money can't buy classiness. If you are tacky, you remain tacky, even as a billionaire.

Looks like Joe Alwyn took all the integrity and the classiness with him when he left.

Exactly, Joe's gifts were more sentimental and classy than anything she's been wearing right now. Swifties will literally cry about the price because they are bunch of 13 years old. But Joe has grown up in a posh british family, so his sense of class comes from within, which we can see in the stuff he bought, whereas anything Taylor has been wearing right now is flashy and tacky with a huge amount of price. Like the expense is the main factor for her jewellery and not the sentiment. Like it's the ultimate truth that money can't buy class lol.

#joe alwyn #anti taylor swift #swifties dni

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delicatebluebirdruins · 4 months

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Lockwood & co 5-8

part one, and with the colours same rules apply. link to my thoughts/ reactions to the first two books

episode 5: not to repeat myself but i want a set tour so bad

"nothing we can't handle together" Lockwood is great

I love Lockwood's little recoil when Lucy tells him "to make an effort"

roleplay version 2. I love the little movements on Lockwoods face when he saw Danny's body. missing scene (sort of) does Barnes ever find out who the body is? and that Danny was someone Lockwood knew?

talking about Flo and then meeting her at night. inbetween: what was happening? what were they doing?

the way "her" was said and Lockwood yelling "run"

book quote "Flo Bones annoyed me" came through loud and clear. I love Lockwood's face watching Flo and Lucy bicker.

Sugar count: 6/7 I think

I love Flo noting the buttered toast exchange (makes what she says later on so much better.) random note: what's on the board

I actually really like the design for Joplins flat and this conversations with her

"incase anyone misses me. unlikely..." poor George

missing scene: they should have had a Winkman thug killed by the mirror which was partially why they wanted to get rid of it so quickly

love breaking and entering, and there being so many things in the warehouse

scene: I hope Leo gets to be a little shit like he is in the book (though i do love Lockwood and Lucy are so sweet when talking to him)... George is not doing well is he? (so glad they showed us this)

Poor Lockwood but he is so funny talking to Winkman

Lucy: "my friend is really hurting"

Winkman "is she a friend? is she family?" good questions the answer is yes and more

still don't know why Lockwood poured the brown bottle onto the floor. Love this small confrontation between Lockwood and Lucy and poor George was so worried about them.

I love this bit with Carver final words being "come with me" is so eerie

episode 6

such a ritual to prevent ghosts (the salt and light is pretty)

again Barnes cares for them in his own way. I love how nervous Lockwood was watching Lucy think before answering Barnes. and I love the little insights we get into how Barnes works and his thoughts on them as a trio.

I love Lockwood and George showing their anxiety waiting for Lucy then going after her (random thought chalk would be great make arrows on the ground or wall showing which way she went)

should have been added: the boneglass ghosts asking for their bones back. It would have added to the emotional moment of freeing them at the end.

the lockwood slide hand hold I love the umbrella stand of swords

hello Flo. I love this moment between Lockwood and Flo the shared history, the history of the house still being present and her talking about Lucy. Also George calling Lockwood "Locky" and him being all smiley at George and Flo getting along to him going "only one person in the world can call me Locky"

also I think there is a piano in the background and I need someone to play it (go tomorrow from Hill House specifically no idea why but you know)

I love the bit with Kipps honestly. And how emotional they made the gift of the necklace (in the book it was like a paragraph) and him fishing for what's on her mind after seeing the talk with Kipps.

just noticed the map George draws has Lockwood written on the other side

the relic collumns are gorgeous and i love the delivery of "famous legacy" so much. this chat is so funny

I get the impression that they changed Penelope Fitters to daughter of Marissa instead of granddaughter is a good change (05/01/23 I say this as I have not read Empty Grave yet so it might change). and i love the "you feel safe with him. Mr Lockwood" and Lucy fiddles with the necklace.

I love the bit in the library them leaving evidence that someone was in there and it being spotted (and them fleeing the party is so pretty)

episode 7

random note: where did Lockwood put the book? and if it was in his pocket the entire time how did it not get soaked?

love the way they hide. and love Cutter.

"you were petrified at the thought of me leaving you" i always think of this entire scene and then think of Steve Crains quote about walls at the end of Hill House "I thought that wall kept the both of us safe, but walls don't work that way"

thought: someone had to get killed when covering the mirror right

I love the chat between Flo and George.

I love Lockwood's smile at Winkman as he steals the Sources.

Love the look between Lockwood and Cutter and the music and how how differently Lockwood and Lucy handle everything

the Golden Blade is so cool but such a jackass.

love the musical transition from "you, me and herons" to cruel world. and the shove

episode 8

Love the sopping wet look. and this bit between the two (imagine if Lucy told Lockwood what Penelope said to her at some point)

"don't give up on us... don't give up on me"

I love them reading the book together

Love the skull. and Lucy blaming herself and them leaving with "For George. For George"

I love this bit with Kipps

Joplin is so manipulative and plays on George's curiousity so well

love this chat with skull telling Lucy how best to use the boneglass

just reckless enough + completely necessary touch = love them

I love this "parade of Fittes agents" and the hype speech "lets bury them"

Not to let my resident evil brain rot come up but this bit with Winkman reminds me so much of Jack Baker it's insane

I love the fight with the thugs and searching the catacombs with commentary from the Skull

Love the reveal of Joplin being a bad guy

"scrubber girlfriend"

I love Lucy and looking into the boneglass with the skull

Poor Kipps is freaking out this entire time. Lockwood looking like how he feels

the frozen Lockwood bit in the boneglass visions could this be a reference to a certain walk he and Lucy go on in the Creeping Shadow

"you set them free" I really wish they kept the bone glass ghosts request.

I love Lockwood saving Lucy and George and collapsing to his knees

I love how long they made the ride to the surface feel

I love Barnes (George or Lucy should have got a pat on the shoulder maybe)

and the actor for Kipps did his scene talking about his Talent fading deserves praise as I love it so much

and I love Penelope Fittes and the golden blade

imagine: how Norrie's parents feel if they listen to Lucy's messages for her

"George turned out to be a bit of hero" love it

narration: when Lucy talks about herself it's a little weird and doesn't quite work as it should on rewatch

Love this end between them all. George getting excited over a mystery and Lockwood needing to recover and the shoving of donut into George's mouth to shut him

ending: I wish we saw a little of the inside of the room and just see the look on their faces as they see what lays inside.

random thoughts that didn't fit anywhere else they could have had Lockwoods sunglasses and could have worked in the toy mobile scene not in this season but maybe future seasons (you know if we had any)

#lcokwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #locklyle #george karim #whatever you do DON'T think about all the netflix shows ending this year you will get annoyed #eta the link for the first two books post #hopefully the one person who reblogged doesn't mind

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loserholland · 1 year

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𝐀 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐀.𝐓

𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐏𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧

Pairing ➺ Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Targ/Vela/Strong!Reader

Warning ➺ Mention of blood, use of High Valyrian. Mean Aemond as usual ig lol. Italics are flashbacks

Word Count ➺ 3.5K

Summary ➺ Her mother was known to be “The Realms Delight”. Soon Rhaeneyra’s daughter would earn that title as well, leaving many suitors waiting in line an a particular uncle waiting as well.

A/N ➺ IM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPDATE BABES! I finally got a break from school and had time to finally sit and right because I did in fact have a bit of a writers block for part three. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, i briefly re-read it but I will fix any problems in the morning I need some sleep asap lol. As always enjoy and let me know how we’re feeling! Also happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate!

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine @spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou@babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland @zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands @sweet666pea @sspider-parker @jackiehollanderr @caro0512 @thewinchesterchronicles @cporter003 @kisses-holland @spideysnugget @cryszus @sunflowerharrystyles @peterunderoos @ohbabycal @laucontrerasv @spider-mendes @jessybellsworld @quaksonhehe @dummiesshort @multitargaryen @mingiholic @loutino94

𝐀 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ➺ @dudfahsn @hhjhbhh @firecantkillthedragon

@its-sam-allgood @sahanna @imjustboredso @lovecleastrange @mouseymagines @out-of-life @caspianobsessed @bilesxbilinskixlahey @yunonaneko @spn-obession @ladybug0095 @helloitsshitzulover @zverea @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @justsumtuffstuff

(Y/N) name day celebration has officially begun. Today was tourney day, who doesn’t love tourney day? Her grandsire had chosen jousting for the tourney which would include many men falling off of their horses, swords clashing against one another, and blood.

Lots of blood.

She stared at the floor length mirror, this would be the first of many dresses she would be wearing for the next two days leading up to her actual name day dinner.

A beautiful black dress with a deep v neck along with cape sleeves, the shoulders of the dress had gold dragon scales, the dress had beautiful red embroidery, she also bared gold bracelets around both her wrist. Mera had kept her hair simple, half up pigtails leaving two strands of hair to frame her face. A beautiful Valyrian steel necklace glimmered around her neck, a gift from her mother and step father. Everything about the outfit screamed Targaryen, it was absolutely beautiful.

Her grandsire had gifted her many beautiful dresses for the occasion, which she was eternally grateful for because it definitely cost a fortune. She was also grateful for her huge celebration her grandsire had planned, originally she just wanted a gala. But, he said she deserved a tourney, a big hunt, and finally a gala.

A small knock on the door caught her attention, “Princess? It’s time we head over.” Ser Erryk spoke awaiting an answer from (Y/N). It would be a lie to say she wasn’t nervous, there are many great houses coming to celebrate her big day. Which meant a lot of attention, and many lords trying to offer themselves or their sons for her hand. (Y/N) let out a small sigh moving closer to the doors to exit, she knew there would be a mix of knights and lords competing in the tourney today, her stepfather being one of them.

“Be welcome! I know many of you have traveled long leagues to be at these games. But I promise, you will not be disappointed. When I look at the fine knights in these lists, I see a group without equal in our histories. And this great day has been made more auspicious for my first grandchild, Princess (Y/N) will be eighteen in two days.”

Viserys extended his hand out to his granddaughter to stand with him causing the crowd to cheer loudly. (Y/N) gladly took his hand, smiling at the crowd raising her hand to wave at everyone who gathered in her name.

“Thank you all for being here today. It warms my heart to have many great houses here for my name day celebration. May the luck of the Seven shine upon all combatants!”

The crowd cheered even louder, just as she was about to take her seat a voice called out from below.

“Princess (Y/N) Velaryon!”

She moved to the edge of the balcony and there he sat on his horse bearing red and gold with a lion on his shield, Loreon Lannister. He has been an absolute thorn in your side for the past few days. And it all started when you had first run into him on your first day back at the keep.

Making her way back to her chambers in need of a bath, her gloves stuck to her fingers causing her to groan as she walked the holdfast. Before she could stop her own feet she bumped into someone’s back. She didn’t want to look up, afraid it was going to be the one person she has been avoiding.

Slowly she lifted her gaze to her person standing in front of her.

“Lord Loreon, I apologize.”

Jason Lannisters’ obnoxious offspring, Loreon Lannister. Or pardon, Lord Loreon, he doesn’t respond to anything but Lord. He was roughly three years older than her, just like his father, always trying to prove himself.

“How lovely to see you, princess.”

(Y/N) forced a small smile, please do not hold me here for long. She didn’t know who she’d rather have run into Aemond or him. At least if she ran into Aemond all he would do is huff, give her a look, and leave. Or better option, run into none of the two!

“It’s great to see you as well, my lord.”

Then he opened his mouth and just kept talking, slowly (Y/N) began to drown him out, nodding every so often to let him know that she was listening. She glanced around in hopes someone would come by to save her, literally anyone. In her peripheral she could have sworn she saw a certain platinum white hair standing on the mezzanine.

Just as she was about to look up at who it could’ve been, her attention was brought to someone else.

“(Y/N)!”

She could recognize that voice anywhere, turning around with a bright smile to see her aunt. Her relationship with her aunt was better than her relationship with her uncles, well it got progressively better over the years. Maybe due to the fact that they would do embroidery together, or how (Y/N) would help her with her children, it could also be because she never questioned her riddles.

“Princess Halaena.”

Aemond watched as his sister went to greet their niece, he had been listening to what the young lord was going on about and could see how bored you were of the conversation. Once he heard of her return, he needed to see her. Walking the halls in hopes she would turn the corner but with just his luck someone beat him to her.

“Lord Loreon, do you mind if I borrow my niece?”

“Of course not, (Y/N) I do hope you save me a dance at your name day celebration.”

Aemond scoffed to himself, as though she would save a dance for a twat like Loreon. Before he could hear her response he walked off, unsure of what had just come over him.

He held up his jousting stick, “I would humbly ask for the favor of the realms ‘New Delight’. Not that I need luck to win but, having your favor would assure it.” she held back a scoff, turning to grab the flower garland to give to the lord.

The young prince stood from his seat startling those around him, (Y/N) dropped the garland from his sudden movement. They stared at one another in silence, unsure if she should pick up the garland or not.

“Aemond.” Alicent reached for her son’s wrist wrapping her hand around it, silently asking him to take his seat.

First he asked for her to save him a dance and now he asks for her favor? Who does he think he is?

“My apologies princess, I’m not feeling all too well. Mother, father, would you excuse me?”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to protest but Aemond didn’t give her nor his parents a chance to stop him. He gave one last glance at (Y/N) before exiting the stands. Alicent dropped her hand to her lap, she didn’t understand his behavior recently. She noticed how different he has been acting lately, but she wasn’t the only one who noticed a change in his behavior.

His older brother did too.

“It’s alright dear, the maesters will make him some tea. Go on now.” Alicent ushered (Y/N) to turn her attention back to the young lord who was growing slightly impatient. Jace picked up the garland, handing it to his sister.

Placing the garland upon his stick she gave him a small smile, “Good luck against my stepfather, you’ll need it.” She moved to her seat watching as her stepfather walked around the grounds.

“The Young Lion against the Prince of the City!” the master of revels shouted as the crowd cheered for Daemon, (Y/N) smirked as she made eye contact with her stepfather. He would have the young lion off his horse in no time.

Aegon leaned forward, his breath fanning over her neck, “I think someone’s jealous.” she glanced over her shoulder to the empty seat, she frowned at the sight. If he wasn’t already feeling all that well, he could’ve stayed in his chambers. People will talk of his sudden absence.

“Cut back on the wine, uncle.”

He scoffed at her comment, muttering something under his breath. Mera had told you about Aemond’s endless question of your whereabouts while you were gone. Thinking nothing of it however, simply thinking he wanted to scare you again for calling him a coward.

(Y/N) entered her chambers, tossing her gloves onto a small table in the room as she was helped out of her riding clothes. Once undressed she stepped into the tub allowing her body to sink into the water sighing in relief.

“How was your trip princess?” Mera asked as she set the sponge into the warm water squeezing the excess water before lightly brushing it onto (Y/N) body. Mera was her favorite handmaiden, she has been with her for the past four years. She was like a second mother to the princess.

“It was quite fun, mother has given birth to a girl. I’m sure that’ll be her last babe.” While on Dragonstone her mother had labored for almost three days calling everyone within proximity of her a cunt and bitch. It was quite funny and gave (Y/N) another reason why she shouldn’t have kids. The agonizing screams or the way she gripped the midwives hands made it looked as though she was about to rip it right off.

In the end a beautiful girl was born, Aemma Targaryen named after their late grandmother.

“Princess? I know you’re not one to gossip but, I must tell you this.”

(Y/N) sighed turning her head to the older woman, “If it’s about my brothers or me, I’m used to it Mera really. I hear what they say but I don’t care what they gossip.”

Mera shook her head, she too had heard what the people have whispered of your legitimacy to your last name. But this time, it was different whispers that needed her attention.

“Oh no Princess. It’s matters related to Prince Aemond.” Mera paused, unsure if she should continue awaiting some sort of response from the princess. “Prince Aemond?” she questioned glancing up at the older woman.

“Laurel, his handmaiden, had asked me almost everyday if you were back. It seems as though he was eager for your return.”

(Y/N) shrugged, unsure as to why her uncle was worried about her return. It’s not like they had any plans or hung out on a regular basis. Your whereabouts were none of his concern.

“Hgah!” Daemon charged at Loreon pointing his jousting stick right at him, (Y/N) sat at the edge of her seat silently begging for Loren to get knocked off his horse. They passed one another rounding around the middle beam to go at one another once again. The crowd groaned, wanting to see bloodshed and to see someone knocked over their horse.

“Who are you rooting for?” Jace whispered, catching his sister’s attention. The crowd's cheers got louder as Daemon patted his horse, steading himself to charge at Loreon once again.

“Daemon, obviously.”

Luke snorted at her response, “Didn’t you give Loreon your favor? Shouldn’t you be rooting for him?” (Y/N) patted her younger brother’s head, “Dear brother, just because you give someone your favor doesn’t mean you truly root for them.” They turned their attention back to their stepfather watching as he charged at the young lord. She gripped the arms of her seat silently pleading for the lord to get knocked off his horse.

Loreon collided with Daemon’s stick causing him to fall over onto the ground with a loud thud. (Y/N) bit back a laugh as the crowd grew wild over her stepfather’s first victory. Loren groaned loudly causing his father to stand from his seat, “That was unfair, we need to do it over!” Viserys chuckled at head of house Lannister

Within the next two hours the tourney was over. And of course, Daemon had won the tourney. Some could say it was rigged but he was merely just skilled. She glanced over her shoulder every so often to see if Aemond had come back to watch the rest of the tourney yet he didn’t.

She did notice the queen had left for a while but had come back towards the end of the tournament. Assuming she went to the maesters for Aemond. Viserys had invited the Lannisters to dinner after Jason’s stupid temper tantrum about his son losing in the first round.

During dinner Aemond had barely touched his food, stabbing his piece of chicken harshly with his knife every now and then at the sound of Loreon’s voice. Jason had gone on and on about the ‘fond’ memories with your mother, that turned out to only be one memory from Aegon’s second name day celebration. Mentioning how he could’ve been you and your brother's father if your mother had accepted his hand in marriage.

That was definitely awkward.

Supper had come and gone, everyone was now resting in their chambers.

Almost everyone.

The hour was late, she was sure of it. Maybe a good book would help put her to bed, attempting to read the pages her mind began to wonder. She began to think about what Mera and Aegon had said, to how he left the tourney and to how odd Aemond was at supper.

A soft knock caught you by surprise, dropping the book you were currently reading onto the ground. She had already sent Ser Erryk to do his rounds, who could possibly be at her door at this hour? She prayed to the gods that it wasn’t her drunk uncle wanting someone to sleep with, there was yet another knock. Holding her breath she moved to open the door, her nerves seem to calm down when a certain prince stood before her.

“Uncle? It’s quite late, I’m sure whatever the matter is-” Aemond pushed past you entering your chambers. (Y/N) glared at him, who was he to think he can just march into your room without permission?

You watched as Aemond began to pace back and forth, he was already in his night clothes as well. A white shirt and some loose pants, he still kept his eyepatch on however his hair disheveled as though he had been tossing and turning in bed. Silence took over the room, you peeked your head outside for anyone lingering in the halls.

“Aemond, people will talk.” you whispered as you shut your door quietly, moving to wrap your arms around your stomach.

The two of you had no betrothed, leaving little to those who gossip of what could’ve happened in the bedroom. Unchaperoned, and at the hour of the owl? Many would say the princess was bedding her uncle. Or that the one-eyed prince was corrupting the new delight.

“Did he touch you?”

He finally spoke, his eye fixed on you. He couldn’t go to bed without asking her, Loreon seemed a little too comfortable at dinner. Leaning into you as he laughed, placing his hand upon yours, grazing his fingers against yours as you passed him any side dishes. He needed to know if he put his hands on you sexually, because if he did, he will be taking his hands right there and then.

“Can’t we talk about this on the morrow?

Aemond never liked it when his questions went unanswered, especially when it came to you. Always challenging him with a question or simply trying to change the subject, just as you were trying to right now. As a child, he was dismissed a lot by his father. You didn’t want him to stay long, only because you were worried if a servant or knight saw him leaving your chamber at this hour, it would spread like wildfire.

“Nyke eptan ao iā másino.” (I asked you a question.)

Her brows pinched together in confusion in need for more context of who he was speaking about. He had been acting strangely all day.

“Qilōni? Nyke ȳdra daor shifang?” (Who? I don’t understand?)

Aemond pinched his nose bridge, the room was spinning, his head was spinning. He felt like he was about to collapse right then and there, the longer his question left unanswered the more his thoughts began to jump to conclusions.

“Loreon!”

(Y/N) jumped at his sudden raise of voice, eyes widened at the name who had just left his mouth.

“Loreon? No, why would he want to do that?”

Sure, Loreon was an arrogant arse but he wouldn’t touch you. If he tried she would’ve taken his hands and tongue, sure he had been pestering her for these past few days but he hasn’t tried to touch you.

Aemond chuckled lowly his fingers now massaging his temples, “Gods I thought I was the one who lost an eye. Are you that blind?” he spoke harshly, he wasn’t thinking straight, his judgment clouded by jealousy that he wasn’t even aware of.

“Can’t you see? He wants to take your hand.”

She was a smart girl, she knew what Loreon was doing. He wasn’t all that subtle about it, especially after he asked for your favor before any other knight could ask you for it.

“Skoro syt gaomas ziry matter naejot ao, uncle?” (Why does it matter to you, uncle?)

Maybe it was because of the blood of the dragon that ran deep in her veins. She likes to pin it on that. Avoiding suitors and betrothals as much as she could. Usually by this time, girls her age have already been betrothed and are set to marry the lord in due time. But she couldn’t avoid them forever, she knew the day would come. Yet, she didn’t understand how the possibility of Loreon asking for her hand was any of Aemond’s concern.

“You would take his hand?”

(Y/N) shrugged, Loreon was not a choice for her but she wanted to see if Aegon’s suspicions were correct. Was Aemond jealous? Was he hinting that he would want to take your hand? She stepped forward wrapping her hands behind her back, relaxing her shoulders and lifting her head up in confidence. He hated to admit it but, you looked as beautiful as ever, your hair no longer in its usual braids, the way your nightgown hugged your body in the right place distracted him a bit.

“If it meant uniting two great houses, then yes. I would.”

It was tradition for house Targaryen to marry within the family; brother to sister, sister to uncle, aunt to nephew, from time to time cousin to cousin. Rarely did the Targaryens marry outside of their house. Only if there were no options for their child to wed an aunt, uncle, sibling, then they’d wed their children to a member of their long term allies house Velayron. Just like her mother did her father who was her cousin, Velayron’s also hold ties back to old Valyria.

Aemond was in disbelief, surely his father wouldn’t accept this offer nor would his sister support it. Their house traditions draw back to old Valyria, they wouldn’t abandon such traditions. Right? Sure he had married his mother who was not of Targaryen blood, but his first wife was his first cousin. And they had his older brother and sister marry, he surely wouldn’t accept Jason’s offer.

She took his silence as anger and wanted to fuel that fire that began to burn in him even more. She wanted to see if Aegon was right, was his younger brother truly jealous? Would it explain why he left the tourney? Would it also explain his constant eye on you today?

“I’ll merely be doing my duty as the heir to the throne. These lords that will be asking for my hand, only want a taste of power. That’s all Loreon wants, just as his father did with my mother.”

(Y/N) took a step forward untwining her hands from behind her back, lifting her right hand to trace up his left arm. Aemond tensed under her touch feeling his breath catch in his throat. Using his right hand he grabbed her wrist tugging her closer leaving no space between them.

“If you think he’s such a fool, why consider taking his hand?” he spat, (Y/N) smirked at his comment leaning up on her toes. Never in a million years would she admit it, but Aegon was right.

“Do you think of yourself as a better option, uncle?”

Aemond stood there in silence before closing the space in between them, finally capturing her lips with his. Finally giving into the lust that lingered for you, finally giving into what he wanted. Her eyes widened in shock but that same exciting feeling coarse her veins, she found herself kissing him back.

Now finally understanding why they called you “The New Delight.” Your beauty and entire being drew everyone in, like a siren’s song drawing in poor pirates to jump into the dark sea.

He was now a pirate, captivated by your sweet song and it was too late to swim back to the surface.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond Targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x you #Aemond Targaryen fluff #aemond tar

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dieauster-und-diegarnele · 8 months

Text

In defence of Pakku

The fandom seems to have a lot of hate towards him. Like, every time I look up something about the White Lotus, there are things like "Why is he even accepted? What is he doing there? He is not worthy" and that upsets to no end.

Of course, there are people who understands Pakku right, - for example, this great analisys of his attitude really inspired this post. He is not a mysoginist. Yes, I will defend this point of view. He never ever says anything bad about women, and he refuses to teach Katara because of his tribe's traditions, not because she's "not good enough" or "women in general are not good enough, and this exception only supports the rule".

He loved Kanna and I wholeheartedly believe this. I saw arguments like "he didn't care! He just made her a necklace with a waterbending symbol, he was not even a tiniest bit creative about it". So hear me out. He carved her the necklace. In the series we have Yugoda's phrase about Pakku making a necklace for Kanna ("The waterbending master"). Why should she focus on the fact that he carved it if it's a common thing to do, expected from every groom? So at first I assumed that the necklace could be bought ready, or ordered to some carving master, or inherited - or made by the groom himself, although the last option is not happening all that often.

So, Pakku did not have to make the necklace himself, but he did. Doesn't it prove that he cared?

Of course, in the same episode Yue is showing her necklace, and earlier in the episode Sokka tried to give her a present that he carved himself, so maybe it all foreshadows that Yue's necklace is carved by Hahn and so every groom has to carve if he wants to propose... Well, the lore says so (does "customary" means "obligatory"? I guess it does, they do value traditions in the North), but it quite contradicts mentions about Pakku carving necklaces - if everyone does it, why it's such a big deal to focus on, thrice?

But anyway, even if carving itself is nothing unusual, we have the design. It's the symbol of waterbending. Pakku's family is a waterbending family, a dynasty of waterbenders. That's what he is, what he's good at. And his bride was going to be a part of his family. So the gift he made for her is symbolic. He did not just choose the design because he had no fantasy - no, he chose this one on purpose, he wanted it to have a meaning. Because, again, the woman he loved meant a lot to him.

And I hope no one will argue that this thing is just so beautiful. So much for a woman he supposedly did not actually love and instead despiced for, well, being a woman.

He never married. Kanna left sixty yers ago ("The waterbending master"), and still we don't see Pakku having any spouse, or children, or grandchildren, nor we ever hear anything like that. He stayed true to her.

Also, the idea of Hakoda being Pakku's son makes no sense - he is obviously younger than 60.

Kanna kept the betrothal gift. She travelled to the other side of the planet, alone - I suppose some money would really help her, but she never sold the necklace, although, as I said, it is really beautiful, not to mention - exotic; she could have get a good prise for that. If she hated Pakku, wouldn't it be logical to get rid of the thing he gave her to make her his, to take away her freedom and make the rest of her life miserable? So maybe she did not hate him? Just thinking.

Kanna made this necklace a family heirloom. She gave it to her daughter-in-law (mentioned in "The waterbending master"), and was okay with Kya wearing it so often that Katara strongly links this thing to the memories of her mother. She was okay with Katara constantly wearing it (not that she could ask her granddaughter to leave behind a memory of Kya, but we never see or hear about Kanna being upset or uneasy with the fact that Katara wears the necklace). Again, she is weirdly okay with a reminder of the man she supposedly despices oh so much.

When Pakku came to the South Pole and proposed to her again (and he made another necklace, again, by himself, wow, he really doesn't give a shit about this woman, really), Kanna accepted his proposal ("Sozin's Comet, Part 2: The Old Masters"). First thing I love about this fact: he still loves her. She is sixty years older than he remebers, she is not a healthy young woman who can do a lot of chores, she is not that beautiful anymore, she cannot bear his children, and I guess they both are not that interested in having sex at all, - and still he wants to be with her. Could it be that he liked her for her personality? Cause that's the only explanation I can think of.

Second thing I love about that: she said yes. So, the first time she refused, but now she changed her mind, why? Well, maybe because he changed himself. He agreed to teach Katara, and he did it well - we would notice if he had treated her differently, gave her less practice, worse explanations, less praise than to the boy students, but he never did anything like that, quite the opposite, he respects her very much ("The Siege of the North, Part 1", "The Siege of the North, Part 2", "The Avatar State"). And Katara developed warm feelings towards him too. She runs to hug him as a new grandfather and tells that he and Kanna must be very happy together ("Sozin's Comet, Part 2: The Old Masters"). So I trust Kanna's and Katara's judgement.

I guess Katara was right when she explained why Kanna left the North Pole ("The waterbending master") - she hated the custom, not the groom personally. Maybe, just maybe, she even had some respect towards him - she kept his necklace, after all. Maybe she was not sure about his feelings and thought he marries her just because of tradition/his parents' will/whatever else? Or did not know him that well to love back because she generally paid less attention to him than he did to her? I don't know. But she is a strong woman, able to act bravely to defend herself from the things she conciders unfair. If she hated Pakku with all her heart, she would tell him to fuck off. If she just did not feel the same way as he did she would have suggested them to remain friends. But she decided to marry him, and she's a woman who knows what she wants and what she doesn't want, so I don't know what to add here. She clearly wanted to marry him this time.

Another thing I love is Pakku's change. He must be about Kanna's age, which is said to be 80; she left 60 years ago, so she was about 20 when Pakku proposed and he was told to be "young" at the moment ("The waterbending master"). It is hard to develop the new point of view and accept new ideas and values this late in life - but he was able to do that. And to add the icing on the cake: he did not change completely, transforming into a lovable guy all of a sudden - no, he is still pretty sarcastic and even bitter, so his main traits that make him him are intact. Such a great example of character growth!

I just love this pairing so much, their story is awesome. Two strong personalities, complicated feelings, not always mutual, someone had to work hard to deserve the love he wanted, and many years later after spending most of their lives separately they found their happiness in each other.

#pakku #kanna #avatar the last airbender #atla unpopular opinion

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celticcrossanon · 5 days

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Royal family order

Hello CC! So I was still reflecting on the family order and why Charles’ still has to be revealed

I’m 100% sure that all those who had the late Queen’s will receive one. From wiki the list of the living people who have it and when they got it:

1952: Princess Alexandra, The Hon. Lady Ogilvy (first cousin of Elizabeth II)

1961: The Duchess of Kent (wife of Elizabeth II’s first cousin)

1969: The Princess Royal (daughter of Elizabeth II)

1973: The Duchess of Gloucester (wife of Elizabeth II’s first cousin)

2004: The Duchess of Edinburgh (daughter-in-law of Elizabeth II)

2007: Queen Camilla (daughter-in-law of Elizabeth II)

2017: The Princess of Wales (granddaughter-in-law of Elizabeth II)

I’m sure that at least Camilla, Catherine, Anne, Sophie and Birgitte will get one. So they have to get 5 ready. Not so sure about the DoKent as she is no longer a working royal in the last 15 years at least. P Alexandra will maybe get one but I don’t think she will be a working royal for much more as she stopped doing engagements in the last few years due to her age and health. So she is not a priority.

In the image above from the white-tie evening reception of the Jordan royal wedding, I think we got the answer about QEII giving the family order to all female members of her family.

PBeatrice hasn’t worn it, while the P.ss of Wales did. I think we can assume she wasn’t given one and so the others. Otherwise, she would have worn it.

If Meghan had one, she would have revealed it like she did with the pearl earrings and matching necklace gifted to her by the Queen. She couldn’t have resisted. As she no longer is a working royal and after accusing the King of racism, she won’t be getting one.

Pity Charlotte wasn’t given one. I hope she will be able to receive Charles’ for her 18th birthday.

I think it was said the portrait was chosen after a bit of time and that’s why it was late to be produced and then we have to consider the time to create at least 5 portraits on glass (I hope Charles isn’t using ivory) or whatever eco alternative + the buying/the search for the diamonds/precious stones that surround the portrait + the type of frame to be created (it could be more elaborated than his mother’s).

What I’m curious about the most are the colour of the ribbon and if he got inspired by Edward VI’s whose portrait was surrounded by acorns and oak leaves 😍

I’m positive it will be revealed this year with the November state banquet or the December diplomaticc reception.🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼

Hi Nonny,

I hope that everyone who received a family order from the late Queen will get sone from King Charles as well, in recognition of past work if they are no longer working or in recognition of their current work if they are. It will be interesting to see if he gives it to anyone else, as it is his gift so he can include or exclude anyone as he wishes.

Catherine’s family arms have acorns on them, so I don’t know if King Charles would use a frame of them or not. If he does do a nature frame he might pick other plants.

I hope he is doing them on glass as well.

I am hoping to see them at the State Banquet in late June for the Emperor and Empress of Japan. :)

#submission

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writingsofwesteros · 23 days

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/houseofthetides/748229187114008576?source=share

Stolen in the night!

Imagine Alicent's face the first time she sees Rhaenys like this after being taken away, hair down and demeanor completely at ease, smiling and laughing freely with her granddaughters. Our sweet Ali has only ever seen Rhaenys as the regal princess and matriarch that she is, she's never been privy to her not on edge in court so she's a little taken aback and just looks at her like this 😳 Rhaena perhaps notices and goes and brings her over, stifling a small smile. Her grandmother truly does have a radiance about her that keeps more than just her grandfathers attention, it would seem. 😏

Poor Alicent, bless her

Rhaena taking pity on her, bless. Still Alicent just pretends that none of this is going on even as she peaks over to Rhaenys from time to time.

This time, Alicent is dressed in blue; a necklace Rhaenys had forgotten about that she gifted to the Queen on her wedding day is around her neck

#stolen in the night

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odditycircus-2002 · 8 months

Text

When You and Jimmy's Marriage Fell Apart (And the Time He Nearly Killed You)

Over the next few months, you and your bandmates got to work on Operation Divorce. While the entire band and you would seemingly follow Jimmy Crystal's demands for the Anniversary show to the letter, behind the scenes is where the real work was being done.

Everything was falling into place. The alternate costumes were chosen. The pyrotechnics were up and running. The list of songs you and your band would perform was chosen and rehearsed. One of your bandmates was able to call in favor of a lioness named Ruby to essentially be your getaway driver. You called your parents to inform them about your current situation and plan to take you and their granddaughter to their home.

Everything was set. Yet, as the day of the anniversary concert crawled close and hours started to tick down, for the first time in a long time, you felt yourself growing anxious to be on stage. Sure, you've been anxious before early in your career, but never the type of anxiety that threatens to steal your breath away and leave you frozen on the spot.

However, with some encouraging words from your band, friends, and your daughter Porscha (who was there to watch you from behind the scenes), you were able to steel yourself and strut to the stage with your band behind your back

Jimmy wasn't lying when he told you this concert would be BIG. The stadium you and your band were performing in was packed to the very back overflowing the stands, your fans' cheers were deafening. And Smack dab in the middle of the VIP front seats was Jimmy Crystal. He wasn't cheering like everyone else around him, but he wasn't exactly showing you any support. No matter.

It's showtime anyways

You give a little greeting and thank you to everyone in the audience for coming to see you and your band perform tonight, singling out Jimmy Crystal in the crowd when announcing that tonight it's both your anniversary tonight. You make sure to emphasize your gratitude to Jimmy and how you dedicated this show specifically to him before breaking into your first song. The stage was dressed in pristine white with turquoise and gold accents, with a props made to look like crystals decorating the stage. You were dressed in white with frills and your signature flowers, while the rest of your band were dressed in turquoise. All of you dressed as if you were at a wedding.

For the first few songs, all of you performed as Jimmy Crystal specified, yet the latter couldn't help but pick up the subtle digs you threw his way while singing. However, he didn't think much of it as you threw flirty winks and blew kisses at him, which he proudly accepted as his fellow VIPS cheered for him.

Yet, the change became evident when your next song started with a slow guitar riff that proceeded to speed up. You locked eyes with Jimmy as you got to the crescendo. At the precise moment the high note hit, you ripped off your earlier costume to reveal a far more colorful and wild outfit underneath. That was the signal for the rest of the band to do the same, revealing their own bizarre outfits and makeup almost like warpaint. The stage lights then darken to a red to match your fury and passion, the prop crystals darken, and fire bursts from the sides of the stage with dry ice spilling out from all sides.

As the piece of resistance, the sign above the stage that read "Happy Aniversary" dropped to reveal a secondary sign reading "HAPPY DIVORCE". Signed by you and the rest of your band. Only a person with no eyes or ears would mistake your contempt for Jimmy as anything else. That especially is true when you rip off the necklace that Jimmy once gifted you.

On your last song, you got off the stage to sing every lyric about how you're sick of living under Crystal's thumb. Jimmy, feeling the millions of eyes staring at him and laughter echoing in his ears, tries to escape the burning spotlight you put him under. Yet, you would not let him go easily as you stalked him down the aisles until you cornered him. You only went back to the stage after taking off your wedding band to hand to your husband, before practically skipping away as if a heavy weight had finally been removed from your shoulders. You and your band finish the set proud and strong.

As the show finally came to an end fireworks started to go off above the stadium. However, you didn't miss your soon-to-be ex-husband speaking with his security.

Taking this as your cue, you quickly rush your goodbye to the crowd and give your thanks to your band before sprinting off the stage. You scoop up five-year-old Porscha and grab your go bags before rushing out behind the stadium to where Ruby is already waiting for you with a running car.

Porscha looks up at you with her big puppy eyes as you buckle her in place. She asks, "Where we goin' mommy?" You tell your shining star that both of you are going to visit Nana and Pop Pop.

You spot Jimmy Crystal just as he slams the backstage doors open, surrounded by his security. You're able to feel his cold eyes burning two holes into you, his lips curled back into a snarl, ears folded back, and claws bared on either side of him. The wolf before you was truly an animal.

"RUBY, GUN IT!"

The Lioness doesn't ask twice as your husband's team of men starts to rush towards all of you to surround you. They back away immediately when Ruby nearly runs over a grey wolf in front of her. You flip off Jimmy as all of you speed off onto the highway.

Ruby tried to assure you that you and Porscha were safe now, yet you had no illusions that Jimmy would follow shortly after you. However, you did not voice this to a shaken Porscha and assure her that nothing bad will happen to her.

"Is this because Daddy is mad at you?"

You didn't have a chance to give her an answer to placate her before, you noticed a familiar limo in the rearview mirror. You turn to Ruby and inform her about the limo behind you. The lioness looks out the corner of her eye, noticing your anxious expression as you hold your daughter's paw.

In an instant, Ruby has a mental "Fuck it." in her head before changing gears to go over the speed limit, weaving through multiple cars while paying no mind to their honking and drivers' angered shouts. Porscha lets out happy shrieks throughout the wild ride, feeling as if she's in a go-kart. Meanwhile, you dug your claws into your seat, shredding the fabric underneath. Yet, Ruby's insane driving was effectively shaking Jimmy off your tail.

Just when you thought that you were in the clear, In her haste, Ruby accidentally caused a traffic jam when she failed to comprehend the red light in time and then crashed into a police cruiser. Luckily, neither you nor Porscha were hurt besides you having some bruises from the airbag going off in your face.

The crash gave Jimmy enough time to start to catch up with you and Ruby. So the latter didn't waste any time telling you to scram when the cop got out of his car with Jimmy swiftly approaching. You give your thanks again to Ruby as you have Porscha piggy-backing on you with bags in hand, before then running from the scene.

While Porscha has no idea really why you ran through traffic before jumping from a bridge onto a bus, then landing in the bushes in a park, followed by you cutting through a carnival, she had to admit it she was having the time of her life! It's a shame you didn't get any cotton candy when you ran through the last place though. Although, you did promise her some later at Nana and Pop Pop's.

Your vision was blurring with your heartbeat roaring in your ears, you felt your legs were turning into lead, and drawing breath becoming harder to do with each passing second. Yet, seeing the airport up ahead, just a few meters in front of you gave you the push you needed to cross that finish line and through those automatic doors. You give a tired grin as you set down Porscha.

Finally, you and your star shine were free, free from the oppressive grip of your husband. You can start all over and live your days without having someone breathing down your neck or stuckling against their oppresive thumb...

Is the thought that crossed your mind. Unfortunately, in reality, you barely made it to security before more of Jimmy’s personal security surrounded you and Porscha

Your daughter didn’t understand why you were so scared, nor why were you dragged away from her. Nobody would explain anything to her, but she knew it wasn’t anything good.

You didn’t bother looking at Jimmy in the eyes as you “escorted” to his office. After dismissing his goons, it was just the two of you in his large and rather pretentious office. He while he appears more composed than earlier, you knew the feral animal you got a glimpse at earlier is still there judging by the claw marks on his solid oak desk.

you tensed, expecting him to lash out you with the same claws, and you could tell by the furious look in his cold eyes that he REALLY wanted to. But after a brief moment where you forgot to breathe, he gives a heavy sigh before gesturing you to follow him to his balcony overlooking all of Redshore City. The lights below shining brighter than the stars above to the point you can’t see them even this high up.

you stood beside him with a few feet as a buffer between you two. Jimmy is the first to speak, although it came out more as a growl which you barely caught over the sound of the wind.

”Why?…”

when you asked what he said, he snapped his head toward you with those cold eyes burning into your head. Without anything between you two, you are forced to take the full force of his fury and a step back.

”WHY? Why are you such an ingrate after EVERYTHING I did for this family?! For us?!?”

this time, a snark escapes from your muzzle as you growl back. You finally let him have it, voicing everything that you’ve been conditioned to keep to yourself. Ok how Jimmy isn’t really your husband anymore as much as he’s a manager that has to micromanage every aspect of her life. In fact, he ceased viewing you as a wife and more like arm candy for his fellow billionaires. You hoped he would improve when you both had a daughter, straighten his act for Porscha, but annihilated that hope when he couldn’t even do it for her! You wanted out, out from the city, and for Jimmy to be out of your life. When you finished, you crossed your arms and turned your back to Mr.Crystal, your decision final.

You didn’t have to look behind you to know that Mr. Crystal was huffing and puffing behind you, resembling every bit of the Big Bad Wolf from all those fairytales.

”Without me! You and your pathetic little band would have NEVER even know the smidge of success you have now! Without me, you’d be a couple of hopeless LOSERS forever playing from podunk town to podunk town!”

You probably shouldn’t have, but you turn around on your heel to get in Mr.Crystal’s space.

”At LEAST, I would be happier than I’ve ever been with you.

You didn’t see it coming when Mr. Crystal back handed you, causing you to stumble backwards. You feel your heart lodging itself in your throat, gasping when you feel yourself tipping over the balcony. Events from your life flashed before your eyes all at once. You can at least say, you lived a good life and stood up for yourself to the end…

only it wasn’t the end. At the last minute, Jimmy hurriedly grabbed you but the front of your shirt and hoisted you up with both paws, a panicked expression on his face.

it’s perhaps because of the adrenaline that ran through you both, that Mr. Crystal didn’t stop you from pushing him away and rushing past him and out his office door. His security waiting by the door and his little cat assistant didn’t stop you when you rushed out, heavily panting with pure TERROR on your face. Mr. Crystal ran after you a little too late.

He tried to quickly apologize and excuse himself at the same time, but you didn’t hear a single word from him. You could only hear your heart pounding in your ears from the near death experience at the hands of the man you onced loved. You didn’t bother gracing him with acknowledgment as you took the elevator down from the top of Crystal Towed.

In the Aftermath, you did get your divorce as you wanted. Although you didn’t receive full custody of Porsha, you were able to guilt trip/ black mail your ex husband enough to allow you summer and holidays visits. Along with his company cutting ties with Jimmy’s industry, with compensation for it.

afterward, it was a matter of you and your band rebuilding your lives without Mr.Crystal breathing down your necks. And while not big and spectacular as you once were, you and your band didn’t exactly fade into obscurity but became something more of a beloved classic from a bygone era. It was time for another group to take the stage, you only hope they fair better.

imagine your surprise when not only you saw your daughter part of a major hit musical, BUT your ex husband being thrown into the slammer as well. This news caused all of you and your band to burst out laughing until tears streamed out of your eyes. You couldn’t have been happier with your life.

A/N: Sorry it took awhile to get this done, but I got distracted with other projects. I do hope you enjoyed this installment as it’ll be the last one in a LONG while. Stay Weird, my fellow humans😁

Playlist while writing this:

"Diablo" by Simon Curtis

"abcdefu (angrier)" by GAYLE

"The Show" by Lenka

"Heartbreaker" by The Orion Experience

"Everybody's Fool" by Evanescence

"Woke Up" by Olivia Olson and Zuzu

"Alphabet Boy" by Melanie Martinez

"Sweet Friend" by The Orion Experience

"911" by Ellise

"Set it All Free" by Scarlett Johansson

"Happier than Ever" by Billie Eilish

#Jimmy Crystal #Crystal Wolf #Jimmy Crystal x Reader #Sing #Sing 2 #sing movie #sing 2 oc #sing 2 movie #reader insert #x reader hcs #breakup #nearly falling off a balcolny #picking up the pieces #divorce #Porscha Crystal

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aloneatpeace · 8 months

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Cosmic Chaos

Chapter 12

Visions

Thought/mind readings.

the chatter around you woke you up, eyes slowly opening you find white selling above you with a furrowed eyebrow you glance at the space that does not resembles your room fully awake you glance around to find scott and stiles asleep on the chair that when you realize you are in hospital room. Closing your eyes for a minute the last night memory come back to you.

Not just that you now remember what happened with the werewolf when it chased you, the time with scott when he changed at the filed with derek the night all that come back to you.

Were they real? Or your just out your mind? Even if was real how was that even possible it was if you just stepped into another reality, or another universe. It just doesn’t make sense. Was this a gift like grams said but you are not her legit granddaughter then how is this all happening.

Scott twist uncomfortable in his seat blinking he see you sitting up lost in your thoughts, quick on his feet he jumps towards you making stiles fall down from the chair at his sudden movement. Stiles groans when his body hit the floor looking up, he sees scott making his way towards you, who is now awake and fully functioning.

Stiles picks himself up and come towards you as scott sit down on your right side of the bed “what happened? Are you alright?”

Stile’s huff takes your left side of bed “you better have a good explanation for this I lied to your grams and you had us look for you in the middle of the night. Only to get a call that you’re here”

Scott nod “if mom was here, it would been worse?”

You palm your face sighing loudly “oh god did that all happened, I don’t know what just exactly happened?” you look up with exhausted face making stiles clam down soften his glare.

Scott frown “yeah, that just not it. I could smell a werewolf on you”

Stiffing up your eyes widen looking at scott “what...how?.am I bit?” panicked you move around looking for the mark.

Stiles grabs your arms “clam down you are not bitten”

“Yeah, it was scent in there nothing else, we don’t even no who took you here” scott then pick something from his pocket a necklace “I was going to give you this later today but seems like this is the right time. It has vervain on it so no vampire can compel you” he turns to stiles if he said that correct, he gets a nod in return.

He put that in your palm and you wear it silently, after calming down you sigh lean back “I thing there is something wrong with me”

Scott and stiles share a look “the doc said nothing wrong with you. You were not drugged or anything if that what you worried about.” Scott said

You shake your head “that not what I meant, I’m seeing things. Last night I saw this tomb or throne it was like I was teleported or something and there was these carving on the walls and a statue of a goddess or something and there were these creatures’ giant monsters…and I she came alive she was glowing and ……then I blacked out” you end looking at them to say something.

Stiles lifts his chin slowly nod eyes squinted clearly not buying the what you are selling you turns to scott and he frown at you worriedly.

“I’m telling you the truth that what happened last night” you cried

“Are you sure?” scott asks

“I know it sounds crazy but it’s the truth”

Stile’s sigh ‘Maybe she hit her head really hard’ he thinks

“No, I didn’t, I’m fine. Why can’t you believe me” you yelled at stiles making him startled, you frown when you realized you just yelled and he didn’t say that aloud but he was thinking that, scott frown seeing you angry.

It not like they don’t get yelled at you but something feels different about the way you just yelled at him that made scott rethink.

“I’m sorry” you whisper

Scott sigh “come on we have to go without getting caught, we will talk about it later”

The trip to home was silent no one talked, stiles stop Infront of your home and you silently got out “get ready quick I’ll come and pick you up” stiles said

You turn to him “don’t worry about it, I will come by myself.” You walk inside without saying anything

Stiles opens his mouth to disagree but scott stops him “let her, be”

Stiles sigh before driving away.

When Sheila come down, she sees you sitting down the table with a coffee cup on your hand as the news on the tv is on.

“Finally decide to come home”

You smile at her “I will always come home, you know”

Grams take seat next yours with her own cup of coffee “next just tell me before you go off”

“I promise” you thought for a second about telling grams about what happened you place your hands on her shoulder making her turns to you.

An image of bonnie walk towards grams who laying on her bed eyes closed appears, soon bonnie calls her but she won’t wake up bonnie starts walling her eyes out calling out elena saying grams not breathing the image change into she and grams performing a ritual outside a tomb and you see damon inside with Stefan and elena was there too.

“You alright?” grams ask as he run her hands through your hair

Blinking you look at her your words come out soft “yeah, I’m alright” pushing yourself out the seat you stand up “I have to go…. you take care yourself…I have a thing…to …. go”

“Tell bonnie to stay here tonight will you”

“Oh… well, sure, come home tonight okey” she said

You turn back to her “hey grams… our dreams are just a dream, right?”

“I thing about dream is hon that we never know when they become real, true” she said

Derek stand Infront of the mortuary waiting for the cops to allow and take his sister away after his arrest they had the custody of the body, after all the formality he takes the body, he drives to his home get out his jeep he did not expect to see you sitting down the steps of his home without the two idiots of friends as he like to call them.

“What are doing here?”

You sigh at his cold tone “well good morning to you derek my mom never gave me sugar that why I’m sour hale”

Derek sigh at you “listen I’ve things to do, so I ask again why are you again”

“I will tell you when you tell me what is in today’s your do list” you shrug at him

“I have to bury my sister do you need to anything else?” his was rough the annoyance gone replaced with a void look as he looks past you.

you stood silent for minute gulping “here? Wouldn’t the hunters or anyone else finding it again”

he glances at you standing now closer to him, eyes didn’t have sympathy but something deeper.

He then think about what you said and you right what if someone else stumble upon it.

“I know the priest we can bury her at churchyard, that’s if you agree as well” you offer.

derek looks at you suspiciously “why? what do you want?”

you title your head at him “A thousand million dollar only cash no check…god you are not good at making friends”

you took out your phone and text stiles and scott to come as well at least they can pay respect the dead body they dig out.

“I don’t like asking anyone else permission” he answers

You look up “clearly……I know a place deep inside the woods I don’t think no one else know about it”

He nods at you, satisficed you walks towards the jeep opening the passenger’s door and make yourself comfortable, he takes a moment to collect himself glancing at you who now getting impatient. He gets inside the jeep and starts drive as you tell him where to go.

When the both of you reach the place stiles and scott was already there, wordlessly they nod and walks deep inside the woods derek carried the remains of his sister and scott and stiles had volunteered to carry spade, kassi and shovel. You gone off somewhere saying you can’t get your clothes dirty making scott and stiles do the work, the three of them starts dig the ground where a tall three stands.

As digging stiles and scott exchange a silent conversation that did not go unnoticed as they thought it would but derek speak at all.

“We are sorry” scott starts

“For what?” derek look up

Stiles who is panting adds “for everything you know…” he points at the body

The silence was loud after that thankfully you came back, they turn towards your direction to see arrange some wild flowers. “Are you guys done?” you ask without looking up.

After done burying his sister, you all stand Infront of the grave as you three silently pray derek stand there with guilty look on his face, he couldn’t save his love of his life he couldn’t save his family from the fire he couldn’t save his sister the only person who looked after him after losing everyone and everything in his life.

You divide the flower into three equal parts and hand him to scott and stiles and they slowly stride towards the grave and place the flowers they nod at you before walking away.

Derek feels a soft touch on his hands and see you place the last buddle of flower on his palm, gripping them he places them on his sister grave, keeling down on the dirt sweat on his face, hands covered in mud.

He turns to you “thank you” he whispered you surprise him with a small smile walking towards him.

“You know I was wondering after everything that happened to you, why didn’t you turn to something that can make everyone fear, I think I would lose my mind if anything happened to the ones that I hold dear to me, I admit you are asshole but also misunderstood” you finally stand Infront of him with a feet distance “ you don’t have to do it all alone now, you have scott and stiles surprisingly and me but you have to lets us in, Derek. Trusting us might be hard for you and that’s okey. Just let us know, let us help if you need it”

His eyes fill up but he didn’t let his tears full his air get knock down when you wrap your hands around his shoulder with a little difficulty, he slowly let his hands wrap around your waist and unintentionally pull you closer to him, leaning into the hug pushing his face in the crock of your neck shutting his eyes feeling his tear on your skin your hold on him tighten. He hands grips your waist tighten the abnormal warmth of his body made you sweat a little as well as he feels his nose touch the hair that stuck on your neck his cheeks pressed against yours.

An immense amount of grief, self-loathing, loneness’s hit surge through deep in your skin that made you made you held your breath for a moment, it made you want to scream from the top of your leg destroy everything around you until your knuckles bleed and body is black and blue.

“You don’t have to go through it alone” you whisper.

The vibration of your phone makes you and derek break the hug, derek move away from lighting speed looking away you give him bored look before checking the text.

Robotically you check to see scott asking you to come to where they where were, you and derek starts to walk towards the place and see them hiding behind tree while peeking from time to time. Scott is Infront of stiles behind him, scott seems to focusing on something.

When you reach behind them you see elena and Stefan talking, watching them you unknowingly tapping into Stefan’s mind you see them back in late 80’s with a girl that look exactly like Elena gilbert as he spoke the whole thing you see it all.

You did not realize they done talking as stiles comment “this is some kind of twilight 2.0 shit” unfortunately Stefan hears this and he turns to look at the intruders which made Elena also turns to you guys. “Oh, I think he heard me”

Your head hurt from the voices inside your head.

I shouldn’t have said that…. wait I have two werewolves why should I fear? They handle it while me and y/n go home if something happens.

Stile’s need keep his mouth shut…why is the Dracula looking at me...I can’t even shift properly

These idiots!

Oh, bonnie sister knows about Stefan’s truth!

They were not supposed to be here.

You close your eyes for moment shutting everything around you, “Can we stop staring at each other soul and be on our own merry way” you speak up

You start to walk away the suddenly Stefan speed Infront of you few feet’s aways making scott and derek to an urge to shift and stiles worry as elena walks towards you as well.

“I can’t let you all walk away you weren’t meant know about my truth” Stefan said truthfully, he didn’t possess any threat to you. The moment he tried to walk towards you he was thrown away by scott and derek picked him up and pinned him against the tree near snarling Infront of his face his face change into, iris shits blue and elongated sharp teeth’s claws coming out.

Scott eyes changed yellow and claws in the place of nails face shifting sharp and long teeth slowly growling as well but a lot claimer as he stands next you and stiles, who already had his hands holding yours.

Elena gasp in fear as she Stefan gets thrown away by scott, the scrawny teenager now fierce and terrifying as the shift something she never seen only get more anxious and perplexed as Stefan get choked by the guy that with you.

“Please don’t hurt him” elena pleads running towards them tears on her face.

Stefan who struggling on Derek’s hold now coming back from the sudden shock of what just took place, he was not aware of werewolf around here and he was not expecting your friends being one of them.

Derek snarls.

“don’t kill now. I don’t want to be the witness” you said from the side while stiles watch them with fascination. “Derek, I don't do well with blood”

Derek rolls his eyes internally at your comment. Elean looks at you with a look of belief making you shrug “what neither does stiles” stiles nod at that.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt her or anyone” Stefan exclaims

“He is good guy, please don’t hurt him” elena said again

Derek growl “yeah, you were just going to compel us right”

Stiles gasps “I like my memories, thank you very much”

You walk towards them standing behind derek “we like to keep our memories to ourselves; we don’t want any problem you don’t want to so why not let just go with our day?” you ask them “its not like we don’t know about the world of supernatural as you can see”

Stefan glance at you then to derek and then back at you somehow, he knows you pull the strings here now the tone of your voice state that your confident and knows what you’re doing.

He nods and slowly derek release him with low growl, the vibration of your phone pulls you away its Lydia asking you to come to her home saying something happened.

“I think we are settled here then” you said to elena and Stefan and turns to stiles and scott, scott shifted back with derek walking towards them “stiles can you take me to Lydia home?”

Stiles lit up “count me in”

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grampstaxidermy87 · 2 years

Text

Betrayal of Blood

Pairing: Demetri Volturi x Vampire! Reader

Requested by the lovely: Anonymous.

Request: Hiii! Could I request a fic where the reader is friends with carlisle so they go help him when the volturi are coming for rigatoni, but what they don't know is that they're not on the cullens side. I'd also love it if you made the reader mates with Demetri, other then that you have free reign. Thank you!!

Summary: When an old friend comes to return a favor it may just be the very thing the enemy needed to destroy the cullens.

an: Oh darling You gave me the perfect excuse to write an evil reader, This was quite fun to write, so I hope you enjoy, my Lovelies!

"Oh Carlisle, what have you gotten yourself into this time?"

The blonde doctor was un-phased by my sudden appearance,while his family and companions all jumped at the sight of me standing in the doorway. Leaning against the wall I eyed them all with guarded eyes and a small smile of amusement.

Everyone grew silent as Carlisle approached me with a kind smile, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Thank you for coming on such short notice (Y/n), I owe you."

I waved him off with a smirk,"Call us even old friend,You know I wouldn't miss a chance like this for the world." He turned to our audience,moving his arm around my shoulders.

"This is (Y/n), they are an old friend of mine from back when I was with the Volturi, they know the ins and outs, along with any possible battle strategy they may have." They looked at me with wonder as I nonchalantly shrugged, "I still have a few loyal ears around the place, there's nothing the Volturi does that I don't know about."

Carlisle smiled gratefully at me before sharing a look with his son, The tall man approached with his wife and daughter at his side.

"Thank you for helping us (Y/n), I've heard a lot about you from Carlisle." I raised a brow, "That must make you Edward, while it is a pleasure, I am saddened we had to meet under such circumstances." He furrowed his brows and I realized he must have been trying to get a read on my thoughts.

"Ah sorry about that, couldn't risk that creepy bastard seeing anything important if he intercepted me on my way here. He's been finding his own witnesses it seems." He nodded in understanding while his wife looked at me in awe, "You're a shield too?"

Chuckling I shook my head, "No I am not, I just happened to have learned a few spells over the years during my time with a witch coven. Protection in return for protection, you know?"

Looking down when I felt a tug on my sleeve I smiled at the wide curious eyes of the reason for my journey. "And you must be my dear friend's beautiful granddaughter? What is your name Princess?" I asked kneeling down in front of her.

She blushed at the compliment, "My name is Renesmee." I skillfully hid my disgust at the choice of name behind a charming smile.

"Renesmee, hm? How lovely, darling. Now I hear you have a very special gift." She nodded and raised her hand up to my face, placing her strangely warm hand against my ice-cold cheek.

Visions flashed across my brain, showing me everything I needed to know...and more.

It was Amazing...I had never met a hybrid who showed such power in the early stages before...

I saw that they believed this child to be a miracle, a rarity that had never been seen by vampire or humankind before.

It was truly pitiful to see just how inflated their egos were.

Smiling in wonder at her I played the clueless part, "She is amazing...what was that?" Edward smiled proudly at his daughter, "She can project her thoughts into your mind, show you things exactly as she did." Nodding I looked back at the hybrid child's mother, "You are Bella correct? "She nodded and watched as I stood and approached her.

Reaching into my jacket pocket I pulled out a charm necklace, "This was gifted to me by a very dear friend of mine, she was also a very powerful witch. This will act as a power amplifier; your shield will be much more effective with this." She looked at it in awe of its beauty as I carefully place it around her neck, letting the red gem be bare for all to see.

"It's beautiful." She gently moved it so she could see it better, wonder filled her eyes.

Watching as the three walked away with Renesmee looking at her mother's new necklace in awe, I felt two pairs of eyes staring daggers at me, it was hard not to grin when I realized who it was.

"It has been too long, Stefan, Vladimir. I am glad to see you are both still in one piece." The platinum blonde scoffed, "Do not think so lowly of us that we would allow ourselves to be taken down so easily." Stefan hummed in agreement with his brother. "Why of course not my kings, you are both far too powerful for that." I cooed knowing exactly how to stroke their ego's.

Doing so perfectly as both of their chests puffed up with pride, "You always were a smart man (Y/n), I am glad to see that hasn't changed." Stefan said and all tension left the air...Well most of it anyways.

To say I hated them both with every fiber of my being would be a huge understatement.

"You know I love to keep you both on your toes, my handsome kings." Vladimir purred in delight when I took their hands and bowed with faux respect.

"Now then,would someone care to catch me up?"

——————

Sitting around the bonfire between the Romanians I had somehow earned the mutt's attention.

"So, what about you? Do you have any cool powers?" I cursed him silently when all eyes turned to me.

"Yes,I am not very fond of it though so I prefer to rarely use it." That answer only further roused their curiosity.

"Oh come on (Y/n), you can't keep them in the dark like that." Stefan mused elbowing my arm and it took everything in me not to rip his off. He turned to the others not noticing the deadly look in my forced smile.

"(Y/n) has the ability to control minds." I gritted my teeth when I saw the fear directed my way.

"Like I said,I'm not fond of it."

Jacob shifted in his seat,"Is that why you left the volturi?"

No.

"Yes."

"I was only a weapon to them, no longer the person I once was." The fear turned to understanding in some of their eyes. Vladimir patted my knee, "That is why we will laugh and celebrate in watching them burn to the ground." A dark and cruel smirk pulled at my lips in a way he interpreted as agreement to his statement.

"Oh I will take great joy in watching the flames."

After a few pointless chats later I stood up, making the excuse that I needed to feed before tomorrow. Waving off the warning of leaving forks to do so I disappeared from sight.

Stopping inside an alley somewhere in Seattle I leaned against the wall and waited for the sight of a human.

"(Y/n)." I clenched my fists tightly before turning around with a smile, "Stefan, have you come to join me?"

The short man didn't answer, instead racing forward and pushing me hard against the wall. I clenched my eyes shut when his lips pressed against my own, if I were human there would be bile rising in my throat.

He pulled back and licked his lips, "Oh how I have missed these lips,300 years of waiting is a bit torturous don't you think?" Lifting my chin up so he couldn't reach my lips again I sneered, "You know I like to play hard to get...isn't that right Aro?" His brows furrowed in confusion before pain hit him and he crumpled to the ground.

Wiping my mouth in disgust I looked over towards the entrance of the alley.

The group who stood there all looked as pretentiously regal as I would expect from the Volturi even after all these years.

"You are right about that (Y/n), but even you should know you can never go too far." I scoffed looking away and stepping over Stefan's crumpled body, still writhing in pain.

Two hooded men approached, the taller of the two walked past and grabbed Stefan, holding his arms behind him to stop any escape attempts, while the other stood beside me in case I moved to attack.

Crossing my arms I gritted my teeth at the king, "Why are you here Aro, I don't need your help." One of the guards beside him hissed at my attitude but Aro held up a hand to silence the boy.

A cruel smirk formed on my lips, "Aww you didn't tell your new toys about me, I should be hurt but I honestly expected nothing less from you." Aro narrowed his eyes, "That is quite enough (Y/n), I've let you have your fun in this ridiculous revenge mission-" He went to continue but stopped when he saw the infuriated glare I gave him.

"Ridiculous? Ridiculous! This bastard and his disgusting brother killed my mother! Or are you so desperate to forget that,uncle?" I roared stepping forward and didn't even try to hide my satisfaction when he stepped back. The guard beside me grabbed my arm and I turned my glare his way,too far into my rage to notice how his body tensed.

"Uncle?" I heard the girl ask in confusion, I looked over at her with a look of pity, "So he really didn't tell any of you, shows how much he trusts you all, Darling. Hey Uncle Aro, do they know that you let the monsters who killed your own sister escape?" I mocked seeing the anger build in his eyes.

"I said enough (Y/n), now come home. Marcus has-" I ripped my arm from the guard, "Don't you dare pull the Marcus card, that man has been through enough. He doesn't need to be involved in your sick attempts at manipulation over me." Aro held his hands up in surrender, "Alright Alright, I apologize. Can we please just talk about this like adults, preferably somewhere more private." He moved to take my hand, but I shook my head and stepped away in disgust.

"No, I came here to kill these Romanian bastards and I will not stop until I watch them turn to dust." He stared at me for a moment before he sighed. "Fine then. Felix, Demetri you know what to do."

Looking over the man holding Stefan and the one beside me pounced on the Romanian filth and began tearing him apart, I watched with satisfaction as he looked at me with a look I knew as betrayal.

"M-My brother will avenge me! You will pay for thi-" he promised before his head was torn off by the shorter one.

His attention turned to me; I raised a brow as he approached before kneeling down before me. Presenting Stefan's head to me like a knight would his king. "For you, your majesty." My hands shook as I reached for it, my hands grazing his for only a split second.

But that was all fate needed to send a zap of electricity through my body, making me gasp in shock. Cracks formed on Stefan's head from how hard I was holding it, staring right into the man’s eyes it felt as though my heart would start beating again.

"What the fuck...was that..?" I breathed through a slack jaw. "I-I don't know.." The kneeling man said with equal confusion to my own.

"(Y/n)?" Aro's voice brought me back to my senses and I dropped the head, blinking before turning towards my uncle. "I-I should go back, they'll be suspicious if I'm gone too long." Aro grabbed my arm, stopping me as I passed. "(Y/n), the child..." I looked back at him.

"A hybrid, a powerful one at that. I've put a charm on a necklace and gave it to her mother, Bellas's shield is weakened now." He had the audacity to look proud of me.

"You always were brilliant; your mother would have been so proud of you." Just like that my anger was back, ripping my arm from his grasp I leaned closer to his face. "Don't you dare act like you knew her, I may just decide to come for you next once I kill Vladimir." He smiled softly, "That's the hotheaded (Y/n) I know and love." I squeezed my fists so tightly at my sides that I could hear them begin to crack.

"Go fuck yourself." I hissed before speeding out of view.

"Master, should we follow him?" Alec asked trying to shake off his shock at what had just transpired. Aro shook his head with a fond smile as he looked off to where his nephew had disappeared. "There is no need, (Y/n) has always been a lone wolf. They will tear them apart mentally before we even reach the battlefield." He turned to face Demetri who looked strangely fidgety.

Raising a brow, he walked over to the dirty blonde and held out his hand with an expectant expression, "Demetri?"

He gulped at his master's tone, holding out his hand and allowing his master to read his thoughts. A grin formed on Aro's face that he wasn't sure he liked, calculated would be the only way to describe it.

"I see, that explains a lot. Oh, Marcus will be so delighted." Was the only insight Aro gave as to what had happened for the other guards, and with that Aro dropped the guards' hand.

"Now then, let us return to the others, our plans need a bit of tweaking with this news." He stepped over the cracked head of his fallen enemy, "Felix dispose of the Romanian scum, will you?" He didn't need an answer as the giant took the pieces and disappeared to follow his masters' orders.

There was much planning to attend to.

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