Name's LE (el-ee), mid 20s, she/her, white& european (like … in an informative and not in a racist way) Content on this blog mainly focused on House of the Dragon and Critical Role.
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Do I have to say it?
#well DAMN that’s like… ballet porn?#this is top ten hottest things I have ever seen#we love men on this blog#especially when they are being SO sexy without being grossly hypersexusl because of it
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„does he know dashcon“
„Grindr too?“
„does he game?“
„Superwholock pope“
bluesky replies are giving psychic damage on another level

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the emotion i just experienced is kind of indescribable
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Elon musk would look at my 55k karma on reddit and sob ‘I want what she has’ like mf please just spend some billions on saving the environment instead of doing fascism
Its like. It's it's really something that the richest man in the world desires internet clout more than anything. Like he wants specifically the kind of clout you get on reddit or 4chan by being a poster like he wants to be a high tier Video Gamer he wants the specific kind of respect you get from being a competitive smash player who posts really good online. But he's just not good. At any of these things . And it's really something. That he has more money than god. But he can't be happy because he can't get a genuine laugh out of the twitch chat.
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“Oh she is evil actually and this is used to criticize messiah figures and ALSO Valyrians do have kind of white supremacist vibes!!!”
Yes, absolutely, all of that but Dany is not real and cannot hurt you ((and also I love her!!)
Dany on her messiah shit leading a small group of refugees across a desert to salvation using the guidance of a star🎇
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so I think something happpened to fandom culture while I was gone…
Just got my first comment on a story on ao3 and it’s basically “well I guess at least this is something different from the other fics people post”
I think this wasn’t even meant as shade. Is that how people talk now?
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Unhinged thoughts: If this was 2015, i would use the tag “awwmond” for everything aemond on my blog
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oh barbed love, consume me (ch. 1)
Pairing: Aemond x F!OC (Malisse)
Warnings: uhm, sexual undertones, mild physical violence, a bit more emotional violence tbh
Summary: a steamy, hot reunion that ends less than ideal
Chapter 2
Malisse jumped off her horse and tossed the reigns to a stable boy.
He caught them, wide-eyed and shocked.
She wasn‘t sure wether it was because she always – always – insisted on taking care of her own horse after riding. Or, if he was shaken by the same thing that also made her feel panicked right now. Well, maybe not entirely the same thing.
Without sparring him another thought she jumped up the steps towards her father‘s keep, as she had done countless times before. It felt good. Easy. Her body still abided her, even though she felt unstable, as if something inbetween her muscles and bones had turned to liquid, kiltering her off-balance.
“Lady Malisse!“ Anytha, her mother‘s maid came towards her, the same fear written on her face she had also seen on the stable boy‘s, though for her it had colored her cheeks in uneven red blotches.
„The prince! I mean the younger one – Prince Aemond – here is here! And he is“ – „I know.“
Malisse was surprised by how easy she sounded. As if the nervousness wasn‘t choking the breath out of her.
Anytha swallowed and took a deep breath, and some of the worried wrinkles seemed to even out on her face.
Well, if Malisse’s rigid appeal worked to calm the servants, that was something, at least.
“It would have been hard to miss the dragon on the meadow outside. Now, where is he?”
”In the small supper room.”
Malisse grasped her dress, so she could lift it up, as she hastened up the stairs, Anytha in her wake.
”My mother?”
”She–“ Anytha’s voice faltered. “She couldn’t.”
“I see.”
Malisse simply replied. She had not expected anything else. They were at the top of the stairs now, and Malisse made sure that the doors to the supper room were closed shut.
They were, and she knew the heavy oak drowned out any noise. She would not be made to whisper and creep around in her own home.
“Make sure she stays in her room. Position guards at her door, if necessary. Haveher dine with Robbet in her chambers tonight – if he can keep is mouth shut, it should help her to calm down. Or even better, make Maester Aelwyn give her some milk of the poppy.”
Anytha bowed her head.
”As you wish, Lady Malisse.”
She hastened off and Malisse took a deep breath, standing in the dim hall.
Usually, she loved castle Stokeworth. It seemed so steadfast, like nothing could disturb the mighty slabs of the stone walls or the giant timber beams of the roof.
The creaking and whisphering of the old castle was as much part of her life as her family was – her serious, silent father and her anxious, slightly madened mother.
Now, she almost flinched when she heard a far-off noise echo down the hall.
For a quick moment she wondered what if he was wandering through these hall right now what if he was looking on from the shadows, listening–
She forbid herself to whip her head around and stare.
Don’t be silly. Don’t let fear rule you.
She raised her head, and pushed open the door.
Aemond was sitting at the fireplace, lean and perfectly poised, just as last time she had seen him.
How could this bastard climb off a dragon’s back and still have not a single knot in his hair?
She clenched her hands into fists to stop herself from reaching for her own hair, which was probably a mess after her unplanned galopp back to the castle.
He turned around, not even bothering to get up as she marched closer.
“Lady Stokeworth. What a pleasurable surprise”, he declared.
She made her way past the long dining table, wordlessly, raised her hand and slapped him across the face.
Aemond was quiet for a moment, clenching his jaw as he turned back to her.
“What – are you doing here?” she snapped.
Slowly, Aemond got up.
With a hint of satisfaction she noted that after all, his perfect hair could get messed up, apparently.
Then, she realized how he towered over her in his dark leathers.
Heavens, had he grown even taller since she had last seen him at court a couple months ago?
She took a step back, or tried to, before his hand closed around her wrist in a tight, merciless grip – but not as merciless as his lilac eye that was glaring down at her.
“Lady Stokeworth. Would you like to give this another try? You are speaking to a prince of the realm, after all.”
She let out a huff.
”No. I am speaking to the guy who buttered me up and took my maidenhood when I was drunk!”
As she spoke she tried to break free of his grip, and it was as if her words had made him flinch, face turning solemn when he suddenly let go.
”You appeared at my door. You asked me”-
“I was drunk”, she repeated. “I was desperate.”
”Oh yes, you were truly desperate“, he shot back.
“What about that time in the Godswood? I thought you were gonna leave welts on that tree with how hard you gripped it.”
He sounded utterly satisfied with himself.
“Or that time in the library. It was your idea, despite you having such a hard time keeping quiet when I” – “Enough!”
He smirked, the corners of his thin, perfectly shaped lips curling up.
She stared at them for a moment.
Goddamnit, a few words off his filthy tongue and she was – she tore her graze from his lips and marched past him, dropping into the chair he had sat in before.
”Again – what are you doing here?”
He turned slowly, taking his sweet time to look around the room before he answered.
”I bring a letter for your father.”
She sat up straighter.
“My father isn’t here, and he won’t be back before nightfall. Give it to me.”
He hummed, tilting his head, thinking.
”No, I don’t think I will”, he replied slowly.
“Aemond” – “Prince Aemond. You know I only allow to you to drop the title when we’re in the sheets, and when you are” – she had jumped up and clasped her hand over his mouth.
He stopped talking, and she could feel his lips curl into that gods-be-damned smirk against her palm.
His face felt hot against her hand, and the heat, the closeness, the smell of him, it all seemed to go straight to her head, and to the pit of her stomach.
She dropped her hand, and his grin grew even wider, while his hands landed at the sides of her waist. His fingers slightly grazed her back, right there where even the lightest touch always sent icy, delicious shivers down her back.
He pulled her closer, so close she felt his breath on her face, so close she could feel the outline of his manhood against his leather pants, even through her dress.
She silently cursed. Even despite her hatred for him, despite her wounded pride she still wanted him.
He took his sweet time as one hand wandered up to her hair, to pull the band away that had kept it back from her face, while his other hand grazed past her breasts, and slowly wandered up over her bare skin, up over the neckline of her dress and up to her throat.
She let him tilt back her head, and the hunger the liquid desire in his gaze made her feel insane, because that was what she was feeling.
Fuck, she thought she had gotten over this. He, on the other hand… She tried to remind herself that to him, she was just one of many.
His desire for her would cease, and turn to arrogance and coldness once he got from her what he wanted.
“So…” she whispered, leaning into his hand around her neck, “what are the contents of that letter?”
It took a moment, then he blinked and his demeanor immediately changed.
”So you haven’t changed. It’s all just a means to an end with you, huh? Always:”
He sounded almost bitter.
Now what in the seven hells was that supposed to mean?
She opened her mouth to ask, but he was quicker.
“Really, you would make for an excellent courtesan. Just a pity your poor father has been cursed with such a whore for a daughter.”
The callously spoken, demeaning words almost punched the breath out of her.
For a moment she contemplated if she should slap him again.
Oh it would certainly feel divine. She wanted to pay him back, wanted to hurt him, like he was hurting her.
But no.
She wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing how much he could still hurt her.
She straightened her back.
“Call me a whore all you want. I know you would not say no if I asked you to come to bed with me right now. You’re just a hypocrite, sleeping your way through every brothel in KIng’s Landing, with every woman that will have you. I do assume they upcharge you, considering…” she vaguely gestured towards her face, on the side where on his face there was the eyepatch.
It felt cruel to speak these words. It felt destructive and powerful. It hurt herself, because she knew how much it would hurt him. Like fire, that cleaned off all the mess as it destroyed. If he wanted to make her suffer, she would take him right with her.
“I mean, the thing with your eye… it only runs skin deep. But it’s a warning sign. That you’re an abomination.”
She looked at him, and his face was stony. A bit paler, perhaps, but that might as well could have been the light.
“Thank you, Prince Aemond for making this so easy for me. You’ll never again get to touch me. Never.”
She turned around, walking past the fireplace, to the door that led to her family’s quarters.
“So I do hope the memories will keep you warm tonight. But, just in case, shall I have the servants light a fire in one of the guest rooms?”
He was quiet, long enough that she almost began to regret her words, as her anger slowly fizzled out and died down.
“No.” His voice sounded raspy and uneven.
“Well in that case – I assume this is it, then. I wish you a good night. And a good life, prince … or perhaps not.”
She made it halfway down the hallway, she made it until the heavy door shut behind her, then she let her tears run free, stumbling over to lean against the wall, as her legs gave in beneath her.
She had hoped – it had been silly, but only now she realized she had still loved him, had still believed that perhaps, he loved her, or at least appreciated her, too.
She knew the thick oak doors muffled every noise.
And so it was only the familiar creaking of the castle around her that witnessed her sobs and the agony of a freshly broken heart.
In that regard, the castle was witnessing more than just one broken heart.
Stupid, Aemond thought to himself. How did you think anyone could ever love you? Even more so, someone like her?
He had pulled the two letters from his pockets.
He didn’t have to look all that closely, to know which one was which. He had asked the maester to seal one with the king’s sigil, and the other with his own, after all.
The one with the order’s for her father to come to the King’s Landing, he left at the head of the table.
The other one, he threw into the flames of the fireplace, without hesitation.
You fool, he thought to himself again. He had spent nights agonizing over this letter. And even more time fantasizing, planning, imagining what he would say to accompany this letter.
After all, it did not happen everyday that you asked the father of the woman you loved for her hand in marriage.
Aemond watched on long enough to make sure the letter would be consumed by the flames.
Then he turned and left the hall, hastened down the stairs and stepped outside. Heavy dark clouds hang overhead, like a dark omen.
Nothing much worse in the future than what just happened now, Aemond grimly thought as he hastened out the door and towards Vaghar.
She could feel his anger and his pain, and she restless, had torn through some fences and trampled a stable, and she had torched some trees across the meadow.
He didn’t stop to examine the damages. He didn’t care. He climbed on Vaghar’s back, and they raised up towards the stormy sky as rain began to fall.
A/N: like any author, my will to write is directly coupled to my ego, so, feed your local author some crumbs of validation in the form of likes/reblogs/comments/whatevers, if you would like to see more of these two (please i have these unhinged people stuck in my head now and they want to get out and terrorize all of you, too<3)
#aemond one shot#aemond imagine#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#hotd one shot#hotd fanfic#aemond x oc#aemond targaryen#hotd oneshot#Aemond fanfic
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hi if ur unaware georgia 🇬🇪 (where i live) has officially banned gay marriage, gay ‘propaganda’, gender reassignment surgery and anything ’promoting’ it. a trans model, kesaria abramidze, has been murdered as a direct consequence of this legislation. if you have a queer georgian in your life pls let them know they are loved and let this solidify why we Need pride and hope cause jesus fuck man
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Okay rant time.
Pregnant men exist. Not just as an uwu mpreg fanfic trope or a joke. Just because you think pregnancy is gross or icky doesn’t mean you can’t treat pregnant people with respect, regardless of gender or sex. Even in the queer community, trans men who choose to carry their children are seen as an anomaly or as betraying everything they’ve worked for. They aren’t. If I carry a child, I’m still just as much of a man.
Also, I understand if the idea of pregnancy is dysphoric for many trans men. I do. But trans men being pregnant isn’t an excuse to exclude them from queer spaces or treat them with anything less than the same respect you would anyone else. Many trans men experience dysphoria regarding the idea of pregnancy, but many don’t. Their body isn’t your business. Don’t be fucking weird.
#thank you brain that things like this don’t fill me with blind hatred like it happens for conservatives#imagine being constantly offended by how other people live their lives!!!#but again thank you brain that my only reaction to this basically is#pregnancies can be dangerous and I hope hormones etc do not mean you have an increased risk or anything#hopefully you have good health care providers so that you can enjoy this time and welcome a healthy baby
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at some point we gotta acknowledge that getting the majority of your news and takes and general opinions from tumblr is not meaningfully different than getting it from tiktok even though on here it's in textual form. understanding the world through the lens of viral videos vs understanding it through breathless unsourced text posts written by dykeastarion69
#nah man hard disagree#when tumblr was still a bit of a website du jour instead of being on death row they weren’t fed right wing shit through their feed#there is a reason 18-24 year olds in Germany voted for a Nazi party more than any other in recent elections#and that reason is TikTok
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naomi osaka's US open r1 outfit!
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we really need to start telling people ‘dont feed the trolls’ again because ragebaiting is getting like. disturbingly effective on the internet again even to young people who should know better
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dan and phil are making content again, the future of mcr is unclear, and people are planning dashcon.
anyways welcome back 2014!
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teya aka @strange-aeons announced dashcon 2 at the end of a 2 hour video about the disaster of dashcon and i’ve got to say…
when do we register?
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sir, a second ballpit has hit the tumblr
@dashcon-two
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waking up today I did not expect to end the day thinking: “fuck, I wish I had been to dashcon”
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