#kingmaketh

[crownednight]

ikea really knows how to make building a crib stressful… // @kingmaketh

__________✨    THE    ROOM    IS    STARTING    TO    COME    TOGETHER    NOW    –    the   painted   mural   they   worked   on   together   has   dried,    the   rocking   chair   sits   in   the   corner   awaiting   the   late   nights   that   will   soon   arrive    –    the    last    piece    to    fall    into    place    is    the    crib.    she   laughs   under   her   breath   to   see   the   mess   of   parts   spread   before   him,    before   she's   moving   down   to   sit   next   to   him   on   the   ground,    her   hand   on   her   growing   belly.    she's    slower    than    she'd    like    in    the    movement,    but    the    babies    are    far    enough    along    now    she    can't    even    see    her    toes    !!    she   reaches   out   for   the   instructions,    her   brow   scrunching.    she    can't    tell    if    he's    on    step    two    or    step    four,    it    all    looks    the    same    to    her.    ❛    you   know,    i   think   it   would   have   been   easier   to   try   to   work   out   actual    swedish    than   these   pictures.    ❜    with   a   sigh,    she   takes   another   look   at   the   parts    &&    tries   to   picture   how   it   all   assembles   together.    ❛    it's   almost   lunch.    we   could   always   order   in    &&    see   if   someone   has   a   youtube   video   putting   this   together    ??    what   do   you   think    ??    ❜

[inheritsnothing]

sorry not sorry @quccninchains & @kingmaketh my job is to make your lives miserable.

[advitameternal]

@kingmaketh ⸻ ↳ ' For you, I would risk my eternity.' | Criston & Guinevere.

Guinevere’s  heart  ached,  her  fingertips  trembling  as  they  tentatively  brushed  them  against  his.  Criston’s  words  echoed  in  her  mind,  an  unwavering  promise.  It  terrified  her,  a  reminder  of  everything  they  shared  before  he  disappeared. 

❝   Criston…  ❞

She  murmured,  her  voice  barely  above  a  whisper,  as  though  even  saying  his  name  risked  unraveling  her.  Guinevere  hadn’t  said  his  name  in  years,  and  yet  the  sound  of  it  was  familiar  on  her  tongue. 

❝  Do  you  know  how  many  nights  I  dreamt  of  you?  How  many  times  I  thought  I  would  see  you  again,  only  to  wake  up  and  remember  that  you  were  …  gone?  And  now  here  you  are,  and  I  am  afraid.  Afraid  that  this  is  nothing  but  a  dream.  ❞

Guinevere  took  a  shuddering  breath,  her  voice  barely  holding  back  the  emotions  she  had  kept  buried  for  so  long.  Her  hand  found  his,  fingers  entwining,  as  if  she  wanted  to  ensure  this  was  real.

❝  If  you  would  risk  eternity,  then  I,  too,  will  stand  beside  you.  I  tried  to  move  on,  to  convince  myself  that  my  life,  my  duty,  was  enough,  but  you  still  lived  in  my  heart,  even  when  I  thought  you  were  dead.  ❞

For  him,  she  was  willing  to  risk  it  all.  Well,  everything,  except  perhaps  for  his  safety.

[avernusfuries-a]

@kingmaketh asked: Bitter people are not interested in what you say, but what you hide.

When it came to secrets, it felt as though everyone else had them by the bucketful. She had been warned that not every smile would've been genuine, and once she had arrived as an ambassador for the tieflings, she had found this to be truer than she thought. The same folks that smiled to her face mocked her behind her back, others weedled out her own secrets, of which she had very few, and passed them around like bread at a fanciful feast. They had a few of those actually, though she had quickly been informed that this was just dinner, despite it being far nicer than anything she had before.

Karlach didn't know what to make of Cole. A perfect stranger who, despite being far friendlier than a few others, she couldn't quite figure out. She was good at reading people. Body language and whatnot. But him... Oh, she gleaned very little from him. Karlach stood a little straighter, and stole a glance at the courtyard in front of them. People busied themselves with their tasks, hurrying from one point to another, nodding in greeting to friends or turning their noses up at the folks they did not like.

She was not good a niceties, politeness and courtly circle-talking. Fuck, she wanted to go home.

"Apparently my secrets are really easy to get out of me," Karlach said with a sheepish little laugh. A hand raised to scratch at her cheek as she pondered. "Don't suppose I've much in the way of skeletons in my cupboards, though. A few shameful losses at gambling, but I think that's about it. Unfortunately my mouth has a habit of not knowing when to shut the fuck up at times."

It was then that it dawned on her. That was likely the reason why she was sent in the stead of some of their sweet talkers.

Fuck.

[literare-at-ayarn]

for @kingmaketh, criston cole.

her hands lay gently upon the rocks of the balcony, the cool surface something welcoming while gaze is trained upon the sun slowly going down infront of them. and for a few moments, the preparation inside, the death of the king, it is all put at a distance. a dull ache inside her chest. there, but not what is in focus. a weight lifted off her shoulders. a whirlwind of emotions coarsing through her, not sure which one to grasp and hold on to. the fear of whats to come when rhaenyra comes to know. she will, after rhaenys made her escape on the wretched dragon of hers. the freedom of not being the wife, the caregiver anymore. the grief of a companion, no matter the twists and turns, no matter how their marriage came to be. not been aware just how close he had stood, it felt like he belonged there. next to her, close. as he had been for years now. and when head turn, there's a moment where lips ghost against his. and a moment where everything else disappears fully. a small jolt she can't quite explain rushing through her frame, a uncertainty following while gaze lift up to meet his. not pulling away, awaiting his reaction.

[ircnwrought-a]

you talk in your sleep, ya know. // @kingmaketh for amaya !!

__________✨         SLEEP         STILL         CLINGS         TO         HER         AS         SHE         TILTS         HER         FACE         UP         TO         MEET         HIS         GAZE.         sunlight    has    begun    to    filter    into    the    small    room,         gently    trying    to    coax    them    out    of    the    bed    they    share.      soon     the     keep     will     be     up     to     start     the     day.         soon     they     will     have     to     part     before     rumors     start      (         their    dornish    homeland    would    be    kinder         …         but    she    is    often    remind    that    this    is    not    dorne     &&     she    now    lives    amongst    the    vipers      )         lithe    fingers    delicately    trace    circles    across    his    chest    before    finding    his    hand     &&     entwining    together    with    his.         there    are    scars    there.         nicks    from    battle     &&     sparring.      she     bears     her     own     on     her     back     from     dragonfire.         how    they    had    taken    their    time    soothing    those    aches    last    night.      perhaps     they     could     never     truly     forget,         but     they     could     try.         a    kindness    in    a    cruel    world.      ❛     &&     what    is    it    that    i    say     ??         do    i    tell    epic    tales    of    bravery     ??         or    mayhaps    it    is    a    balld    of    love    instead,     full    of    trials     &&     tribulations     ??     ❜      there    is    a    hint    of    teasing    in    her    voice,         but    she    pulls    closer    all    the    same    to    listen    to    his    answer.      they     will     have     to     leave     this     moment     behind,         but     for     now,         she     steals     what     little     time     she     can.

[francescca]

@kingmaketh  :         ❝       you look like you've got something to say.      ❞      °

     it was in the middle of the day when the attack came .      surprising of course but something that frankly , the family had been expecting for awhile . nothing ever truly settled after the war , tensions still rode high , many were still upset one way or another and there were those that were angered with the family for leaving the way they did during that time . it all lead up to the specific time and place when she had been out in one of the smaller gardens away from the main house , indulging in one of the many books when loud shouts brought her to reality . too quickly she was running through the tall grass and through one of the kitchen doors with echoes of crashing from the floor above hitting every wall . the apparent aggressors had begun creating destruction throughout , even claiming a piece of the home by the fire they set ablaze . she doesn't remember much after that in due part to her adrenaline , except she had tried finding hyacinth and gregory just to be stopped and taken in the opposite direction by familiar comforting hands .    

                                       she's lost track of time since then .      the vague awareness of being led to the stables and helped upon a horse to escape was all that her nerves let her currently recall . what kept her alert now was the realization of the sun setting just beyond the hill past the abundance of crowded in trees and chilled wind scraping at rosy cheeks . they had been riding for awhile , the quick sprint the horse kept at never once wavered , even when they were briefly chased , or when she had tried to look behind them to spot the burning bridgerton home .      

             fingers clutched at the horn of the saddle .      the adrenaline is ever prevalent , but now that it doesn't have complete control over her , her thoughts are able to run wild . the horse began to slow into a mild stride , the forest of which blanketed their presence was possibly the sole reason why they weren't riding as hard anymore . head twisted to glance at him , he appeared to be just as much as disheveled as she felt . ❝         you look like you've got something to say .         ❞        there was a nod of her head , because yes there was so much she wished to air out . ❝         you shouldn't have saved me .         ❞ the nagging feeling prickling at the base of her neck became even more apparent . it felt like guilt . ❝         anthony , he's head of our house , you should've went for him , or my mother .. ────         ❞ knuckles begin to whiten , her grasp tightening . ❝         or ──── or ──── ... anyone .         ❞

[absolventiia]

/ @kingmaketh, criston cole + maryse

sent in : you can blame me for that. / @ maryse

maryse could blame criston cole for a lot of things. and yet, and yet, and yet . . . " i don't blame you. " she whispers, the dornish accent a give and take and lyrical thing. there's a pause, as she gestures down the hallway for the pair to walk, and her arm, ever so gently, takes criston's. " aemond may. . . need more time yet, i believe. "

and yet, there is the timing. jaehaerys getting slain in such an awful way, only for one of the assassins, the smaller one, to locate aemond targaryen on his way out, to find aemond and maryse's chambers, to recognize the fact that this dornish princess -- his wife of all of a few months -- is now pregnant. thank the gods she was awake enough in time to react, to grab at the knife that he attempts to thrust at her swollen stomach. thank the gods that aemond arrived only seconds after she screamed. a son for a son, she remembers him saying. it haunts maryse still.

her hands are still bound with cloth ; the maesters say the deep cuts there may scar, but they are healing rapidly.

criston probably still maintains the guilt for not being present for helaena and then maryse, in the same night. maryse wouldn't blame him if he did. in the end, helaena loses her child. maryse's son still shifts in her womb. it was all so brilliantly unfair. " i think i may go through the gardens, to get some air. if you wish to join me ? "