#AWS application modernization
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AWS for Application Modernization: Updating Your Legacy Systems for the Cloud

Introduction:
In today’s rapidly evolving digital landscape, outdated legacy systems can hinder your business’s growth and innovation. These systems can be complex, expensive to maintain, and difficult to scale, posing a significant barrier to agility and progress. To stay ahead of the competition and unleash the full potential of your business, embracing AWS for application modernization is not just a choice but a necessity. By leveraging AWS consulting services, you can effectively navigate the complexities of modernization and ensure a smooth transition to cloud-powered agility.
Unlocking Cloud Potential: Top Strategies for Migrating to AWS
If you want to dive deeper into the benefits and approaches of AWS for application modernization, be sure to check out our detailed whitepaper: Migrating legacy applications to AWS cloud
“In today’s era of volatility, there is no other way but to re-invent. The only sustainable advantage you can have over others is agility, that’s it. Because nothing else is sustainable, everything else you create, somebody else will replicate.” — Jeff Bezos
The Need for Modernization:
Legacy systems often act as anchors, weighing down businesses with outdated technologies and inefficient processes. They can lead to:
Reduced agility: Legacy systems often lack the flexibility to adapt to changing market demands and customer needs.
Increased costs: Maintaining and upgrading legacy systems can be costly, diverting resources from more strategic initiatives.
Security vulnerabilities: Legacy systems may not be equipped with modern security measures, leaving them susceptible to cyberattacks.
Limited innovation: Legacy systems can hinder the adoption of new technologies and innovations that drive business growth.
AWS: Your Partner in Modernization:
AWS, a leading cloud platform, offers a comprehensive suite of services to help you modernize your legacy systems and transform your business. With AWS, you can:
Lift-and-shift: Migrate your existing applications to AWS without significant code changes.
Refactor: Restructure your applications to take advantage of cloud-native features and improve scalability.
Rebuild: Develop new applications from scratch using modern technologies and cloud-based infrastructure.
Benefits of AWS Application Modernization:
Modernizing your legacy systems with AWS brings a multitude of benefits, including:
Reduced costs: AWS’s scalable and pay-as-you-go model can significantly lower your IT infrastructure costs.
Increased agility: AWS’s elastic infrastructure enables you to scale your applications up or down as needed, adapting to changing demands.
Enhanced security: AWS’s robust security features safeguard your applications and data from cyber threats.
Accelerated innovation: AWS provides access to cutting-edge technologies like AI, machine learning, and big data analytics, fueling innovation.
Migrating to AWS:
The journey to AWS application modernization can be tailored to your specific needs and preferences. Common approaches include:
Lift-and-shift: Move your existing applications to AWS EC2 instances, the quickest and easiest option.
Refactor: Modify your applications to leverage cloud-native features, enhancing scalability and performance.
Rebuild: Develop new applications from scratch using modern cloud-based technologies, maximizing control and flexibility.
Suggested: AWS Cloud Migration Guide: Explore the 7 Rs Strategy
AWS Services for Modernization:
AWS offers a wide range of services to support your modernization efforts, including:
AWS EC2: Provides scalable computing capacity in the cloud.
AWS RDS: Offers a managed relational database service.
AWS ElastiCache: Provides a managed in-memory data store service.
AWS Lambda: Enables serverless computing without provisioning or managing servers.
AWS Amplify: Provides a framework for building mobile and web applications.
Unlock the Power of AWS with Expert Guidance:
Navigating the complexities of application modernization can be challenging. To ensure a smooth and successful transition, consider partnering with an experienced AWS consultant. An AWS consultant can provide expert guidance, tailored solutions, and ongoing support throughout your modernization journey. If you need dedicated talent, check out our Hire AWS Developers service for expert assistance.
FAQs:
1. What are the benefits of modernizing legacy systems with AWS?
Ans: Modernizing legacy systems with AWS can bring a multitude of benefits, including reduced costs, increased agility, enhanced security, and accelerated innovation. AWS’s scalable and pay-as-you-go model can significantly lower your IT infrastructure costs. AWS’s elastic infrastructure enables you to scale your applications up or down as needed, adapting to changing demands. AWS’s robust security features safeguard your applications and data from cyber threats. AWS provides access to cutting-edge technologies like AI, machine learning, and big data analytics, fueling innovation.
2. What are the different approaches to migrating legacy applications to AWS?
Ans: There are three common approaches to migrating legacy applications to AWS: lift-and-shift, refactoring, and rebuilding. Lift-and-shift is the quickest and easiest option, involving moving your existing applications to AWS EC2 instances without significant code changes. Refactoring involves modifying your applications to leverage cloud-native features, enhancing scalability and performance. Rebuilding involves developing new applications from scratch using modern cloud-based technologies, maximizing control and flexibility.
3. What AWS services can help with application modernization?
Ans: AWS offers a wide range of services to support your application modernization efforts, including AWS EC2, AWS RDS, AWS ElastiCache, AWS Lambda, and AWS Amplify. AWS EC2 provides scalable computing capacity in the cloud. AWS RDS offers a managed relational database service. AWS ElastiCache provides a managed in-memory data store service. AWS Lambda enables serverless computing without provisioning or managing servers. AWS Amplify provides a framework for building mobile and web applications.
4. How can I ensure a smooth and successful transition to AWS?
Ans: To ensure a smooth and successful transition to AWS, consider partnering with an experienced AWS consultant. An AWS consultant can provide expert guidance, tailored solutions, and ongoing support throughout your modernization journey.
5. What are the next steps for me to start my AWS application modernization journey?
Ans: To start your AWS application modernization journey, consider these steps:
Assess your current applications and infrastructure.
Define your modernization goals and objectives.
Develop a migration roadmap.
Choose the appropriate migration approach for each application.
Partner with an experienced AWS consultant.
Begin your migration process. By following these steps, you can embark on a successful AWS application modernization journey and transform your business into a cloud-powered powerhouse.
#AWS application modernization#Legacy systems modernization#AWS services#AWS consultant#Cloud migration
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ColdFusion with AWS AppSync: GraphQL API Management for Modern Applications
#ColdFusion with AWS AppSync: GraphQL API Management for Modern Applications#ColdFusion with AWS AppSync
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Top 10 Effective Practices To Secure Application Modernization On AWS
This is where AWS Cloud steps in, helping businesses upgrade their application portfolios for the future. At every level of the organization, it necessitates careful planning, effective implementation, and readiness to embrace change. Let’s discover the best 10 practices for effective application modernization on the AWS cloud.
#AWS Cloud#Application Modernization#application modernization services#aws security#aws security services#cloud security#cloud computing security#AWS Managed Services Providers#AWS Services#migrate to AWS
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I try not to be a hater because I like have some moral objections and whatever to haterism and also I just don’t really enjoy being a hater but actually try not to have the worst possible misinterpretation of Sisyphus challenge (impossible).
Like you guys know it’s an eternal punishment for trying to cheat death and live forever right? And that the punishment is endless toiling for an impossible task right because death is an inevitability? Not just some guy pushing up a rock?
For the record I think the “one must imagine Sisyphus happy” thing isn’t included in this it is an intentional reimagining and utilization of the myth for a purpose (which is the purpose of myth and fables and whatnot, I do have some grievances but like that’s all me). I mean like people saying Sisyphus can or has or will get the boulder up the hill the point of it is he can’t or that like it isn’t meant as a punishment.
Like it’s a cool story and like yes yes yes use and examine the story and retell it and resuit it to what you want to say but like know what you’re talking about please I will cry
#This came about by a random on the internet someone talking about Sisyphus getting a counter for how many times he’s pushed boulder up#And being able to purchase micro transactions with successful pushes#WHICH TO BE CLEAR I THINK IS GOOD COMMENTARY#IF#the point is the counter stays at 0 forever and he can’t access them#And then like ooh cool that would be awful and yeah commentary on micro transactions that are theoreticall FtP#But I don’t think that’s what they were saying#Also someone in the comments said that they thought Sisyphus was about the education system????????????#ITS FROM ANCIENT GREECE WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT???#Like applicable to the education system sure you can argue that but that’s not what it’s about it’s a new reading for the modern age#Hater post to get all of it out of my system#Sisyphus
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MAY THE BEST MAN WIN



nsfw! k. nanami x fem! reader // w.c. 1.7k // g.mlist
synopsis: a rejected job application to be his PA places nanami kento on the short end of the stick as the dejected applicant, not only endorses his opponent, geto suguru, but melts his stoic demeanour; their discreet hookups able to taint nanami's pristine reputation in the world of impactful falsehood aka politics.
a/n: Not my best work. Forgive me if there are any mistakes, I only proof read this once - _ -
Liaising with his opponent's valuable, composed assistant would be pretty scandalous. This scenario would remain hypothetical so long as nobody discovered Nanami Kento, a venerable political presence competing for supervision over Tokyo’s jurisdiction, his ascendancy to improve the nation’s societal aspects appearing promising, and his intrigue with a woman employed on the opposing team, whom he detested with equal measure.
Both he and the female he’d abruptly grown infatuated with obsessed over Japan's mishaps, formulating instantaneous solutions to endless predicaments, exhibited as a modern form of salvation for a densely populated herd destitute of direction; hence why the current election.
Despite being eulogised as the perfect candidate on numerous front-pages and receiving endless commend from other influential figures, Geto Suguru and his extremist views were nipping at Nanami’s tail, and with Geto’s perspicacious personal assistant bestowed both convenient attractiveness and ingenuous that stood out compared to other employees, specifically other male’s as the career path inclined toward that gender domineering the profession; Nanami wouldn’t be surprised if citizens elected his rival solely based on L/n Y/n being present.
He abhorred her accomplishments with evident discontent; however, each loathe was contended with an internal admiration as below that surfaced a more profound regret whenever he recalled flipping over her resume with a curt ‘next’, belittling her potential as his dismissiveness had betrayed him.
As of currently, Nanami was fervent in the notion of being severely seared by L/n Y/n’s eruption of heinous flames as every occurrence containing witty disputes between the astute representatives seethed pleasurably against his warm skin clothed with pricey threads; his opulent suits constructed from classic patterns clocked the metaphorical whips her sly remarks lashed against his tanned figure - an intimately controversial confession that he intended to remain sealed within his filthy mental vault.
Promiscuous drops of persuasion flickered at the end of each of her calculated talks, especially when she led central meetings, proposing numerous compromises he could consider during the scheduled period etched to occur at specific times, which always ran for longer due to the topics being labelled as paramount.
Nanami was not an oblivious airhead, acknowledging the taunting lilt in her tone when her audaciousness addressed him directly and fixated a spotlight on him to test his poise and agility to concoct an answer. Lower ranks either observed in awe of his intelligence/professionalism or envied him for being selected to engage with L/n, a seductive woman who was well aware of how to balance her femininity and diabolical tongue in a male-dominated field.
Her sophisticated mannerisms were partly a diversion to distract from her internal urges, which, when she’d first acted upon, immediately tossed her high prolific job of working directly under Geto Suguru, a broad man with goals to eradicate and start a new, on the line. However, knowing it required two to tango erased the anxiety of unemployment and wrecked public image as, fortunately, a blonde and lean male had just as much on the line they’d both risked to prance across.
An authoritative male who prioritised his occupation before any other relations of pleasure was prepared to dissemble his eminent reputation for some irresponsible pleasure as if he were undergoing adolescence once again, their altercations extremely perilous but an enthralling venture nevertheless.
This progression of secretive screwing was the one thing Nanami held such certainty for. The penalty they'd receive if caught amidst their rendezvouses within business hours, or any hours at all, was critical.
Nanami’s sturdy build dangerously whined, practically yearning to be seized in his current predicament of being caged between his mahogany desk with his beige slacks pooled around his ankles and a parted mouth belonging to an ally of his enemy.
"Your reputation is on the line. If caught, it floods down the drain," She murmured an obvious reminder, doe eyes that were peering up a contradiction to her air of haughtiness whilst she leisurely trailed her soothing palms up his bare thighs, applying more pressure the further she advanced.
Purposely, she heaved deliberate huffs against his swollen tip that nudged her bottom lip a few times, minuscule froths embedding into the micro crevices dispersed amongst the pouty cushions of sensual mouth, disrupting his momentary envision that depicted her as a sinner awaiting repentance, entertaining the myth she was an entity of divinity with a seraphic grin, when in reality she was a diabolic persona enabled with virulent thorns he’d present his palms prepared to bleed from.
"So is yours,” He retorted pointedly, “Yet you accepted my offer and are now down on your knees with an awaiting mouth.".
She mulled over his response with a subtle tilt of her head with feigned innocence. It was aggravating to witness her cunning attributes aid her in manoeuvring the conversation to play out in her favour, the ability to have him wanton and yearn for the enemy’s bliss. He would have concluded, ‘How diabolical for a being to be created such as herself’, had she not been so foolishly compelling to encounter.
"I suppose – but answer me this, Sir,” She examined his grounded jaw, minimising the distance between herself and his cock she had generated, his genitalia truthfully invigorated by her detestable antics as she discarded a gentle chaste kiss to his rosy tip. “If I were to walk away right now, would you be frustrated, or would I?".
Guileful riddles fractured Nanami’s glacial façade, his portrait powdered by the stereotypical colourant related to Cupid, confounded by characteristics he would have never predicted from their initial encounter.
"Don't act coy so suddenly," He hissed as he wound her silk tresses around his callous knuckles, a purposive yank on her strands.
Taunting snickers congested the void of his secluded office, his workspace littered with necessities but only two presences.
"An act? You know that's just how I am. Seeing the corruption of patience under my presence is mouthwatering." She innocently purred.
"Well, since it’s obvious that your mouth is good at talking," Nanami permitted his head to loll slightly, the deplorable urgency to endure the paradisiacal perimeters of her mischievous tongue curled around him excruciatingly evident.
Trickles of translucent gooeyness melded atop her lone tastebuds that craved an alternative substance to substitute the typical vocabulary clinging to her tongue’s guards that’d leech onto air particles beyond the cage of her canines.
“Be a good assistant and show me it’s just as good as making me cum.”.
“Is that you admitting you need me?” She enquired, and her calculated touch subbed for the lack of her oral talent, enveloped digits stroking at a leisurely rate, which evoked perspiration down his tensed nape as the damp beads permeated his unbuttoned collar whilst his abdominal region clenched in response to the confines of Satan’s playground sown into the routes of her palms that metaphorically sear his stoic member following every languid caress.
Nanami could only lovingly shush her when a hefty sigh deflated his shoulders burdened with Tokyo’s worldly obstacles once she finally concluded her reign of tantalising torment by utilising her warm appendage to barely douse his erection with a developed lather of saliva, his stature perched against the support of his sturdy desk relied on further as her motions provided respite for her previous behaviour, alleviating the throbbing ache.
Momentarily screwing his vision closed, he rasped at the abrupt, overwhelming sensation of having his dick trapped between the narrow enclosure of her throat. His eyes widened, and he saw her almost gag but sneak a resolute glance.
The male threaded with tresses of spun aureate, each strand filaments from the incandesce sphere soon to exchange with its crescent counter-part, stretched out her mouth in a manner unlike ever before; however, she refused to let that specific factor refrain him from foregoing the vibrations of her hums, moaning both his moniker and other lovey titles with lewd undertones.
"You're doing so well, Sweetheart," He mumbled, her manicured nails clawing deeper into the puffy flesh of his thighs as his grip lingered atop the crown of her head, questioning whether the two peaks peeping out her cascading locks were hallucinatory or attested to the infernal identity he associated her with.
His impure fascination regarding whether she would appear ethereal with one of her most beneficial assets stuffed with himself proved correct; the accuracy of the endangering sight now engrained in his mind was now one he couldn’t bring himself to complain about.
Meanwhile, L/n’s head bobbed skilfully, gradually embracing his enormity, bestowed protruding veins immersed in the sprawl beneath the underside of his sturdy shaft, which she awarded extra attention to. Contrastingly, Nanami tossed affectionate glorification, maintaining the mutual gaze with the powerful woman who ensured he spectated her ruthless ministrations as she gagged when he twitched against the back of her throat, almost stupefied from the musky yet sweet taste.
Contrarily, the brutality behind his intentional thrusts enlivened her libido as longing brewed between her thighs suffocated by the stitching of her charcoal pencil skirt; the urge to relieve the ache by canting into her palm blockaded by her selection of apparel.
“There we go, be good to me, Love,” Nanami lowly pleaded, noticing dampness sting the seams of her ardent sight, which beamed at his indications he was nearing his erotic demise; his groans gravely as he attempted to resist in order to utilise her bewitching visage for as long as possible – but to no avail as Nanami stilled, propelling her delicately-carved nose into his pubic region with a chocked moan whilst a tepid, salty onslaught dripping with gratification scorched her sore throat.
"God dammit," He heaved with an orotund tone before an airy chuckle, somewhat musing at their circumstances before solemnity breached his utopia.
“You know…” He leaned down, placing a feathery peck atop her lips before helping her to his feet, lean arms secured around her sultry waist as she seized his funky tie, warm breath greeting his as a grunt of discomfort escaped his mouth from being abruptly hunched over. “I regret not giving you a chance. Having someone of your expertise would be good for my team.”.
“So I can imagine, but…”
He gawked with evident surprise; a malice simper carved by the devil ghosted her plump lips tainted with the aftermath of their illicit interaction.
"I’d still vote for Geto Suguru.”.
© 6ixtoru all rights are reserved. do NOT repost or copy my work
#jujutsu kaisen#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk nanami#nanami kento#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jujutsu nanami#kento x reader#nanami x reader#nanami smut#kento nanami#nanami jjk#geto suguru
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unadulterated loathing! 🪄 mingyu x reader.
madame moribble's sorcery seminar has space for only two students this semester. you're forced to make a case for yourself with the one person you despise the most: kim mingyu.
★ shiz university students!mingyu x reader. ★ smau with some fic work. word count for the fic: 2.8k ★ genre/warnings: alternate universe: modern shiz university, inspired by wicked, academic rivals, forced proximity, use of pet names, feelings realization/denial. cussing/name-calling in the spirit of bickering. this only draws from the setting of the wicked, so the given plot (i.e. wicked witch) doesn't exist here; prior knowledge of wicked is not necessary to understand the story. title is from what is this feeling. ★ footnotes: wrote this in one deranged sitting, but this is an early christmas gift for my favorite gyuldaengie, @maplegyu! 🎁 not quite the fiyero!mingyu agenda we have, but still in the same verse. ilysb. ♡
Mingyu has spent the better half of his years in Shiz going toe to toe with you.
It's to be expected, really. The two of you are the brightest of your age, tearing through your academics with ruthless precision. He always raises his hand in class. You can recite book passages word for word.
Both of you are hard to ignore, and neither of you are about to back down.
This application for the coveted Sorcery Seminar is yet another curveball that you two must navigate. You would think that after the disastrous Life Science group work in freshman year— or the Runes incident in sophomore year— that the higher-ups would know better than to force you and Mingyu into any sort of proximity.
But Madame Morrible seems intent on getting the last laugh, and Mingyu will go down swinging, if he must.
That doesn't mean he can't have a little fun, though. He shows up at the Quad at exactly five in the afternoon, making his leisurely way towards you. Everything about him is seemingly perfect. His pressed, navy blazer. His coifed dark hair.
Even the way he carries himself— practically swaggering to where you're waiting, less-than-amused— has people making way for him.
"Why the long face?" Mingyu asks sweetly in lieu of a greeting.
Your answer is curt, bordering cold. "Nothing."
Youch. "Ice queen," Mingyu mumbles under his breath as he settles onto the bench next to you.
You shoot him a glare. He flashes you a winning smile.
This was the nature of your 'relationship', or admitted lack thereof. It was a push-and-pull of Mingyu getting on your nerves every so often, of him testing how far he can draw it out before you crack.
You had your moments, though, where you could also drive him up the metaphorical wall. Like this afternoon, for instance.
You talk over him more than once. You shoot down every single idea he proposes. And you keep shifting restlessly— prompting your knee to bump into his, your elbow to hit his ribs.
When you accidentally step on the tips of his shoes in your animated, passionate denial of his nth concept, Mingyu has had just about enough.
His hand darts out until his fingers are wrapped around your wrist. Not to bruise or control, just to draw your attention to all your exaggerated movements.
"Could you stop that?" he hisses, his eyes flashing with annoyance. "I swear to the Wizard, I'm going to come out of this meeting battered and bruised."
You coo at him in retaliation, your voice sickly sweet. "Aw, what is it? Gyu-Gyu of Gillkins can't handle a little roughhousing?"
Oh, it's like that? Mingyu lets out a derisive huff before dropping your hand. You give him the small concession of scooting a bit further down the bench, putting some much-needed distance between the two of you.
Mingyu's not about to let your little jab slide, though. "You talk big game for someone who goes running in the other direction whenever there's a spider around," he says wryly.
Your response is defensive, sending the two of you shuttling down your typical back-and-forth. "That was one time! Might I remind you that you once thought river fairies were mayflies?"
"Bringing up stuff from freshman year, huh? I vaguely recall you mixing up Bunbury and Bunnybury for years—"
"You still can't cast a half-decent Alarte Ascendare charm—"
"And your voice cracks whenever you try to hit the high note in Dear Old Shiz—"
"Okay, enough!"
Mingyu presses his lips tight in a poor attempt to hide his smirk. Your expression is positively murderous, contorted in one of sheer annoyance.
No, annoyance is too light of a word, too generous of a feeling. Your flushed face and Mingyu's jackhammer pulse are not mere products of some petty vexation, some harmless flirtation.
It's unadulterated loathing. True, deep loathing; total detestation.
You loathe Mingyu, and Mingyu loathes you.
As you pull the plug on your short-lived brainstorming session, marching off towards your dormitory with a dramatic flourish, Mingyu can't help but revel in the feeling. He feels like he just ran a damn marathon, all from spending twenty minutes of bickering with you.
Odd as it may seem, Mingyu has never felt so alive.
Even though you don't say it, Mingyu knows you think his idea is good.
He can see it in your acquiescence, in the way you let him run his mouth just a little more. He wants to preen over getting this little upper-hand, no matter how insignificant it may be. The two of you are working on something he suggested.
You can call him all the nasty names in the book, but your begrudging acceptance is like a trophy to him.
It's why he's so cheery as the two of you reconvene to flesh out the project. You're benevolent enough to let Mingyu wax poetics about cursed objects being integral to Oz's landscape, though you keep him from rambling when he tries to position himself as the more brilliant one between the two of you.
"Don't get cocky," you warn as you lay out the material you'll be working on for the day.
"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," Mingyu shoots back, though he does give in and shut up for once. He's not about to push his luck. It's only half-time, after all, and he has a whole lot more of winning to do.
The two of you had agreed on flowers. For a moment, neither of you do anything about the assortment of blooms laid out on the desk in front of you. It takes Mingyu a beat too long to realize that you're looking up at him.
"What?" His free hand— the one not holding his practice wand— reaches up to his cheek. "Is there something on my face?"
The unamused glare you give him almost makes him chuckle.
"It was your idea," you point out. "So you start us off."
Ah. Mingyu knows you'll tear him a new one if he tells you the truth, which is that he didn't really think he'd get this far.
He was fully prepared for the two of you to disagree until the deadline, or to perhaps start groveling at Madame Morrible's feet for a new partner.
With this half-baked idea, though, the two of you are more likely to have to see this affair to completion.
"Right." Mingyu squares his shoulders, eyeing the flowers atop the table. "I suppose we could, er, start with some basic curses."
There's a Cheshire cat-like grin on your face that Mingyu doesn't like one bit. He steels himself for the blow, which inevitably lands in you saying, "You have no idea what we're supposed to do."
He scrunches up his nose in an expression of mock displeasure. "We're going to show off practical knowledge of enchantments," he rattles off. "Provide insight into the ethical implications of magical creations. Equip sorcerers with problem-solving skills necessitated by—"
You cut into Mingyu's tirade with a dismissive wave of your own wand.
"Blah, blah, blah," you drawl. "Ethics, insight, got it. But application? What about that, Kim?"
Mingyu has to bite back a curse from slipping past his lips. You're so infuriating. He wants to wipe that smug look off of your face, though he isn't exactly sure how he might go about that just yet.
"Maybe you want to contribute something," he grumbles, his lower lip jutting out in an almost-pout. "I already came up with the idea of the project, sweets."
Anyone else who might've been on the receiving end of Mingyu's pet names might have swooned. You always bristled, acting like he had uttered something vile.
Today, you remain perfectly unperturbed, content to have Mingyu squirm as you roll up the sleeves of your school blouse.
"Watch and weep," you say, your wand poised over the flowers.
There's nothing Mingyu hates more, really, than the reminder of just how good you are. The two of you were academic monsters to begin with, though you had your respective strengths and weaknesses. Mingyu excelled in theories; you dominated practice.
In some alternate universe, the two of you might have been an unstoppable duo. As it is, though, Mingyu can only hope that your fragile truce will hold long enough to secure you both that class slot.
He tries his darndest to keep his awe at bay as you mumble incantations. The curses you leave on the flowers seem to be mostly minor.
The daisy's leaves begin to flutter like propellers. The carnation starts to rapidly change colors. The rose goes through a constant process of wilting and rebirth, the dried petals pooling on the table with each cycle.
When Mingyu steals a glance at you, he notices the sweat beading your temples. Magic took a lot out of a person, and to cast three spells in a row was no joke.
"First, we should do a magical construction analysis." Your voice is a little tighter, a little more strained. Probably from the exhaustion. "And then a de-cursing process. Strategies and techniques for reversing or neutralizing the curse."
You go on to talk about how your demonstration for Madame Morrible should go— something about a live reversal or containment of a curse, and a detailed explanation of their findings— but Mingyu is only half-listening.
His eyes keep flitting to your quivering fingertips. His own hands twitch in his lap.
It's a sudden feeling. It's a new feeling.
Mingyu never thought he'd care for you, and yet here he is with his aborted attempt to reach out, to soothe, to comfort.
In between piles of schoolwork and preparations for the demonstration, Mingyu hardly has any time to notice the shifts in your relationship. You don't seem any the wiser, either, which is saying something. You tended to have a better emotional quotient than his overdramatic self, anyhow.
But there are shifts. Small changes in the day to day that are imperceptible to the less-discerning eye.
The two of you remain cutthroat in the classroom, drawing your peers' ire with your relentless rivalry. Behind closed doors, though, there's something more akin to… civility?
Mingyu wouldn't dare call it friendship. He's not that naive. He just knows there's an ounce of kindness, now. Some self-imposed restraint, some begrudging respect.
As the two of you move on to executing more complicated curses, the changing dynamic bears down in the most glaring ways.
"Enough."
The word comes out as a wheeze, but Mingyu injects it with just enough authority to have you pause. You don't look any better than he does. You're folded in half, your hands resting on your knees as you try to catch your breath.
The spell that neither of you could conjure just yet involved a hand mirror and an ancient curse. So far, all the two of you have managed is to make the mirror sing.
"Let's— take a break," Mingyu offers.
Your response is to be expected. "I don't need a break. I need to get this stupid curse right."
A muscle in Mingyu's jaw jumps. He stares down at you with a look of sheer incredulity, and you only return his glare with a defiant one of your own. Someplace else— with someone else— the electricity crackling between the two of you might have been sexual tension.
Alas, Mingyu knows it's nothing more than your shared animosity.
… Right?
He breaks the silence with a mumble of, "I need a break. Give me five minutes."
Honestly, Mingyu could keep going. He thinks he has it in him to try and cast the spell a couple more times, but he's willing to look weak if it means getting you to pause.
You don't even have a snappy retort or a smartass insult to his declaration. All you give is a jerky nod of your head before you lumber off towards the nearest chair in the otherwise-empty classroom. A peculiar expression flashes across Mingyu's face as he watches you walk, almost like every step that you take is an effort. You miss the look in favor of practically collapsing on to one of the desks.
"Wizard Almighty," Mingyu cusses lowly. He reaches your side in a couple of strides, though he pauses with his hand hovering over your shoulder.
At the last moment, he clenches his hand into a fist and draws back.
"Is this seminar class really worth dying for?" he muses, shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks.
"I'm not— dying," you choke out. "I just need— a—"
There's an edge of exasperation in Mingyu's tone. "You need a break. It's just me. You can admit that."
Before you can shoot back, Mingyu wanders off to his backpack. He digs through it for a moment before he can procure his water bottle, which he wordlessly places onto the desk you're on.
You give a quiet sound of appreciation before uncorking the bottle and taking a long swig. The rehydration seems to invigorate you in the slightest, enough for you to straighten to your full height. Mingyu holds back on teasing you over the way you've emptied his drink.
The first words you say after you've caught your breath are "It's because it's you."
Mingyu's eyebrows knit together in confusion. He tilts his head to one side, looking every bit like the confused puppy he's often likened to. "Pardon?"
"You said— I can admit that I need a break, because it's just you." You place Mingyu's water bottle down, your hands bracing the edge of the desk as you speak. You're looking up at Mingyu, but you're not quite looking at him. It's like your gaze is fixed on something just beyond his line of sight, and it hits him that you're avoiding his gaze.
You clarify, "I didn't want to admit that I needed a break to you."
His immediate reaction is to protest. To laugh and call you stupid, to question your faulty logic. But when Mingyu's lips part, the insult at the very tip of his tongue—
He finds that his words are just out of reach.
Because, for better or for worse, he understands where you're coming from. The two of you have exploited each other's weaknesses, have poked and prodded holes into each other's defenses. Why should this be any different?
There's an inexplicable twinge in Mingyu's chest. A tangible, physical tightening, over the spot where his heart is.
He had wanted it to be different. He doesn't know why, but he thought that this might make things different.
Instead, he manages to push out a heatless, "Right. That adds up."
Neither of you say anything for a while. The five-minute break stretches into seven, then ten. Right before the fifteen-minute mark, you say, "I think we should call it a day."
Mingyu— who has spent the past quarter of an hour trying to untangle his thoughts— jumps at the suggestion.
"Definitely," he says a little too enthusiastically. "Yeah, yeah. Let's… tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow. Same time?"
"Got it."
You gather your things and begin to make your way out of the classroom. Mingyu moves a little slower, not wanting to have to prolong any conversation if the two of you were to leave together.
He thinks he'll never have an answer to the question clanging in his mind until you pause halfway out of the door.
"Kim Mingyu."
He freezes in the middle of adjusting his bag strap over his shoulder. "Hm?" he hums, trying his best to act noncommittal even though his entire posture is already defensive in nature.
The sight of it seems to amuse you, because the ghost of a smile tugs at your lips. It's not a smile that you've ever given him. He's seen it in the corner of his eye, witnessed you dole it out to underclassmen and friends. And maybe he's always been a bit envious, a bit desperate to be on the receiving end of it.
Now that he is, he feels like he just got punched in the gut.
"Thank you," you say.
Plain, simple, unadorned. No explanation. It could be grace for the water. Grace for the break. Grace for the partnership. Mingyu doesn't know, doesn't care. He'll take what you have to give.
His mind tries to conjure the perfect response, one that might have you feeling the same way that he is. No problem or you're welcome or it's just me, sunshine.
What he eventually settles on is an exhale of "Always."
He wants to kick himself for it. Who the hell says 'always' to 'thank you'? a chiding voice screams in the back of his head. What does that even mean?!
He winces outwardly. Your smile widens slightly, just enough to throw him off balance once again.
And then you're gone, your footsteps echoing down Shiz' hall, leaving Mingyu with the answer.
Mingyu loathed you in theory, but in practice? Well.
He's so caught up in trying to unpack his realization that he nearly misses the quiet ping of his phone in his pocket.
#mingyu x reader#mingyu imagines#mingyu smau#mingyu drabble#kim mingyu x reader#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt imagines#seventeen imagines#svt smau#seventeen smau#[ me whenever i consume new media: How can i make this about me!!!!! ]#[ fiyero!mingyu when i catch you fiyero!mingyu. this will have to do for now ]#(🥡) notebook
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Thinking of a modern AU when the kids get to be kids after it's all over and they go to the movies, they play games, hang out, all that. And of course, Steve drives them everywhere. He vouches for them in front of their parents, watches them like a hawk, tries to tell them about the adult stuff he's learned so far and chases Robin and Nancy to give them info on uni application and the things he feels he's too dumb for. Still, when Robin and Nancy are away and one of his kids needs something, he'll grab that legal document and either stare at it long enough to get a migraine or begins hounding the smart people who stayed in Hawkins (Mr. Clarke is Steve's go-to person and Mr. Clarke won't say it, but he's so proud of Harrington's progress).
So, Steve's life is basically nonstop work and babysitting (with lots of complaints and grumbling from the teens), they ask him to drive them somewhere and he'll bitch about it, sure, but he will get up after 4 hours of sleep and do it anyways. Dustin often reprimands Steve for not taking care of his health, but he doesn't see why.
When Encanto comes out, El really, really wants to see it, and how can Steve say no to her? He drives the whole gang to the movie theatre (some of them stacked on top of each other, some in the trunk on a pile of blankets) and decides to join them. He doesn't really like animated stuff, but Robin loves these movies and he wants yet another reason to call her and talk through the night.
He didn't expect to enjoy the movie so much, but it's colorful and catchy. The songs are nice and the characters are relatable. He makes a lot of mental notes to discuss with Robin. He thinks she will love Mirabel.
And then "Surface Pressure" starts playing and Steve wonders why he suddenly feels like crying. "I'm pretty sure I'm worthless if I can't be of service" hits especially hard. He's just sitting there and feeling incredibly stupid for tearing up at flying glitter-covered donkeys.
When they leave the movie theater, everyone is pretty excited and discussing which characters and songs they liked the most (even if some feel like rolling their eyes at a kids' movie, El's excitement stops them from doing that). They all start discussing to who they relate the most, El feels with Mirabel for being left out and different, even if she actually is the only one who has a gift, Will dares to utter that he really sympathizes with Dolores, Dustin loves Bruno for trying to fix the cracks in Casita.
And then they turn to Steve and someone makes a jab at him, saying he resembles Mariano the most. Steve is ready to shrug it off, there's some truth in that with what happened to his relationship with Nancy, but El just shakes her head and says: "No. Steve is our Luisa."
Everyone goes silent. There's a lot of hmmming and "well, he did get up to drive us when he had a night shift..." and "we could have just biked...". Steve tries to make them feel better about it, joking that he really has nothing better to do, but the drive home is full of whispering, and the party actually diligently thank him when they leave his car.
The next day is Sunday and Steve is ready for his usual routine, making himself busy until someone needs something. But there's a knock on the door to his small apartment and when he opens it, he sees his group of kids, proudly presenting a tray of muffins and two cartons of orange juice.
Out of all of them, it's Mike who speaks up. "Nancy said you often forget to eat breakfast," he states in his usual annoyed tone. "She also said that you like chocolate muffins, so we are here to ensure you don't die from hunger. Now move, I'll get the glasses and plates."
Steve just watches in awe as they swarm his flat, Will smiling at him and producing a DVD of the latest Spider-man movie. "This one was a tip from Robin, she says you haven't seen it yet."
Max is standing in the kitchenette with her cane, watching the pile of meds Steve has to take after his injuries with disdain. "This has to take forever for you to find what you need. Don't argue, I remember how shitty it was for me. Let me help you build a chart and thank me later."
El and Lucas are rearranging Steve's couch and placing pillows in front of the TV so everyone can sit comfortably. El also ensures the blinds are closed so Steve's eyes don't have to fight against the light.
And if that all wasn't more care than Steve has known in years, Dustin grabs his elbow and sits him down, threatening him with violence if he even thinks about working on Sunday.
As the opening titles start, Steve is surrounded by six teenagers in his tiny and cheap flat, chewing on a subpar muffin with an orange juice that probably never saw the actual fruit, and he thinks that there's no greater happiness than this.
#steve harrington#steve harrington drabble#the party#stranger things#stranger things drabble#stranger things au#encanto#healing and understanding your roles through movies is awesome#steve harrington is and will be loved
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Love In The Darkest Of Places // modern!Aemond x Reader
Chapter 10: Vhagar

Summary: You and Aemond decide to get a dog after therapy.
Warnings: talk of animal abandonment
Masterlist
Chapter 9 // Chapter 11
“So. A dog,” Aemond said.
You smiled and nodded your head. “Yes, a dog.”
You and Aemond were on his computer, looking at the application for a dog. It was extensive but you knew it was necessary. “Any specific breed you're looking for?”
Aemond shrugged. “Not really.”
“I think you'd benefit from a dog on the bigger side,” you said. “One you could cuddle when I'm not around.”
He smirked. “I like that. Though, cuddling a dog will be nothing like cuddling with you.”
Nudging his shoulder with your own, a smile plastered itself on your face. After you bounced off of him, you took Aemond’s face in your hands and pressed your forehead against his. “I just want you, want us, to be okay.”
“We’ll be okay.” Aemond breathed out. “I’ll be okay.”
For a few moments you two just sat there, holding each other and enjoying one another’s company. It was one of your favorite things; when you would do this with him. Nothing else mattered in the world, it was just you and Aemond.
Over the next few days, you and Aemond prepared to bring a dog into your lives. You knew that you weren’t planning on a small one so you made sure to get everything needed for a bigger dog. Shopping for a dog was exhilarating for you, prepping to add a new life into yours and Aemond’s. It made you wonder if this is what it would feel like to prepare for having a child. You caught your thoughts before they could go any further and shook your head.
“You okay?” Aemond asked as he picked up a few dog toys.
You smiled at him. “Never better.”
When it came time to go to the shelter, you kept it a secret. Aemond knew that he was going to get a dog soon, but he just didn’t know when. It was a cozy day when you decided it was time. You refused to tell him anything and for some reason he didn’t seem to put two and two together. Or, if he did, he was just messing with you. But with everything going on and waiting for a response from the dean of the university, he hasn’t been as quick on his feet as usual.
“Where are you taking me?” Aemond asked for the third time.
A secret smile played on your lips as you drove. “It's a surprise, you'll see.” As you focused on the road in front of you, you couldn’t help but notice Aemond stare out of the window with an empty gaze out of the corner of your eye. You knew he was feeling unsure and tired from everything and you wanted to help rectify that. You moved a hand from the steering wheel to his hand on his lap. “I promise, it will make you feel better. And better yet, I’m paying.”
“‘You’re paying’,” echoed Aemond. He chuckled then squeezed your hand in reply. “As you wish.”
A comfortable silence enveloped the car as you continued to drive. If anything, you were buzzing with excitement but kept it bottled up.
Pulling into a parking lot you announced, “We're here!” You instantly whirled around to catch Aemond’s reaction and you were not disappointed.
Aemond looked at the building in awe. His one good eye focused on the sign, Westeros Animal Shelter. A hand searched for yours and when he found it he did not let go.
“Are you sure?” Aemond asked, still staring at the building.
“You've been through a lot and it's the least I could do for you. You deserve another friend in your life and I figured why not a dog?”
“But can you pay for it?”
You smiled sheepishly. “Okay, I asked your mother for some help. I didn't tell her everything, just that you weren't doing so well and I thought you could use a pet to keep you company when I'm not around.”
A knowing smile graced Aemond’s face. “That sounds more like it.”
Parking the car, you stepped out into the fresh air. A cool breeze blew by as you stretched your arms out. When you looked over, Aemond was doing the same thing but he took his time. You couldn't look away from him. He was beautiful. Even as he simply stretched you couldn't help but be in complete awe of his beauty.
When Aemond caught you staring he smiled. “Like what you see?” He brushed a few stray hairs that weren't tied up in a bun out of his face.
You chuckled and walked over to him from around the car. “Always.”
Taking his hand in your, you led him into the animal shelter.
Instantly, you were hit with the smell of dogs and cats and the sounds of many barks. The building was on the bigger side, causing all the sounds to echo. Through all of the sights and sounds and smells, however, you couldn't help but notice how Aemond immediately lit up. Soon, you weren't leading him around but he was leading you.
Everywhere there were rows and rows of cages filled with a single dog occupying the space. Some looked dejected, others looked excited to see new faces. Aemond took his time, visiting each kennel. You haven’t seen him this happy and engaged since… well, since childhood. There was something about having a pet that made everything better. They were someone he could talk to without fear of retaliation.
Eventually, you moved away from the dogs and visited the cats; more for you than him. Aemond was never really a cat person, but you loved them. He didn’t hate them, like some people did, he just didn’t click with them like he clicked with dogs.
A familiar voice called out, “Wanna meet any of them?”
You turned around to see Cregan walking towards you and Aemond with a smile on his face. Aemond stiffened but with a squeeze of your hand you reassured him.
“There's nothing between us. Never was,” you whispered to him. You turned your attention to Cregan. “Didn't think we'd run into anyone we know.”
Cregan shrugged. “This is where I met Tempest and I figured since I gave her a loving home, I could help these other guys find theirs.” His eyes flickered between you and Aemond. “I see that you two are together?” It was a cautious question.
You smiled brightly, “Yes, we are. And I've never been happier.” Once again you squeezed Aemond’s hand.
“That's great! I was hoping you two would get together eventually.”
At those words, Aemond finally relaxed. You felt him loosen his death grip on your head and could feel the energy around him calm down. He knew now that Cregan was not a threat but rather a supporter, a friend.
“So,” Cregan clapped his hands together, “anyone here catch your eye? I’d love to introduce you to some of our dogs.”
“No one yet,” Aemond started, “but I am looking for an older dog. I don't have the time to dedicate to a puppy.”
“Perfect! We have senior dogs who need loving homes. Follow me.” Cregan motioned for the two of you to follow him.
Walking through the halls you passed multiple dogs. Your heart strings pulled at each one, knowing they were either surrendered or abandoned. If you could, you would adopt every single one and give them a happy home. However, you didn't have that money so following Aemond and helping him rescue a senior dog was all you could do.
“Here's some oldies,” Cregan said as you passed a row of kennels.
All of the dogs looked worn out. Some even devoid of hope. There were, however, some fiery ones that caught Aemond’s eye. He stopped at one kennel. There was a beautiful rottweiler sleeping peacefully.
“What’s the story for this one?” Aemond leaned closer to read the paper on the kennel. “Vhagar?”
Cregan smiled but it didn't quite reach his eye. “She's a fierce one, definitely still has some bite to her. She is very loyal, though. If she likes you she'll be by your side. The only problem is that she has to choose you. So far, every other person who has tried to get close enough to even let her have been growled at.”
Aemond cocked his head to the side. “Can I try?”
“We can when she wakes up. Let's look around a little more. I don't want to wake her up and be grumpy.”
Aemond nodded in understanding then followed Cregan to the other kennels. He looked at you with hope in his eye. You gave him a small smile and gave him a reassuring squeeze of the hand.
“What's going on through that head of yours?” You whispered.
“I think we're going to walk out of here with Vhagar,” he said calmly.
“You sound so sure yet you haven't properly met the girl. She's sleeping,” you laughed.
Cregan turned around, a quizzical look on his face but he continued leading you through the kennels.
“And when she wakes I'll be there,” Aemond said with determination in his voice.
The two of you continued to follow Cregan throughout the shelter and listen to the bits and pieces he knew about each animal. It was a wonder, you thought, that he could memorize all these names and facts of these animals.
When a small kitten caught your eye you gave Aemond your best puppy dog face with doe eyes but he simply smiled and shook his head.
“Maybe next time,” he consoled you.
You pouted but left the little kitten alone and went back to Aemond’s side.
“Vhagar should be awake now,” Cregan said. “Want to go say hi?”
Aemond’s answer was immediate. “Yes!”
His enthusiasm made you smile. You haven't seen him this excited about something in a long time, not since you were children.
As you walked back to Vhagar’s kennel, you could feel Aemond's excitement.
“Hey, girl,” Cregan smiled warmly as you all approached her kennel.
Vhagar’s tail wagged when she saw Cregan but slowly went down when she noticed you and Aemond. It was soft, but you heard a growl come from her.
“Are you sure about this, Aemond?” you asked him. “She doesn't look too happy about seeing us.”
It was slight, but Aemond shook his head. He slowly bent down to Vhagar's height just outside the kennel.
“Calm, Vhagar,” he said as he held out a hand.
Vhagar cocked her head to the side, eyes narrowed, but stopped her growling. She stayed low to the ground but came closer to the bars of the kennel. Cautiously, she sniffed Aemond’s hand but when he briefly lost balance, she snapped her head back.
“Calm,” Aemond repeated. He held his eye contact with Vhagar. He did not look away.
Vhagar also did not look away. Instead, she bowed her head and pressed it against the bars, against Aemond’s hand. She looked up at him through hooded eyelids and tried to nuzzle closer.
Cregan whistled. “Wow, she likes you. I don’t mean to push or anything but do you want me to get the adoption papers now?”
Aemond kept his eye on Vhagar while a smile played on his lips. “That would be great.”
As Cregan left to draw up the papers, you looked down at your boyfriend, you couldn’t help but feel all the warmth and love you had for him. He found a companion who would be there for him when you couldn’t. He found a companion in Vhagar after only a few moments of meeting each other. It was love at first sniff.
“Are you going to keep her name?” You asked him.
Aemond laughed, “Of course. It fits her. Reminds me of a dragon, honestly. There’s a fire that’s still in her; I can tell.”
You placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to look up at you. “There’s still a fire in you, too, Aemond. You never lost it.”
“I know.” Aemond got up and pulled you in close. “You remind me that I still have it.” His lips captured your in a soft kiss when someone coughed.
“Not to ruin your moment,” Cregan started, “but I have the papers here. Let’s get the old girl out and we can go to one of the desks up front.”
Aemond moved you and him out of the way to make room for Cregan to unlock the kennel. When he did, you weren’t sure how Vhagar was going to react. Would she bound towards Aemond? Would she simply walk out? Would she be scared? It was all unknown until this moment.
With a creek, the kennel door opened up. Vhagar had her eyes set on Aemond. Tentatively, putting one paw in front of the other, Vhagar moved towards Aemond. Cregan went behind her and tried to leash her but she growled.
“Let me,” Aemond offered.
Cregan meerley shrugged and handed the leash off to him.
“This is just going to keep you with me, okay? Calm, Vhagar,” Aemond said to the dog.
Adjusting her collar, Aemond moved it so he would clip the leash onto it. Unlike with Cregan, Vhagar didn’t growl or bear her teeth. She was calm and stood still while Aemond leashed her. Once he did, he slowly stood up so he wouldn’t startle her.
“She’s already trained and everything. Knows a few tricks, too,” Cregan said.
“Was she abandoned?” you asked.
“No, she was surrendered. The previous owner’s grandmother owned the dog after her passing and couldn’t keep up with her so they brought Vhagar here.”
“How long has she been here?”
“She’s been here a few months. Honestly, if you guys didn’t show up she may only have a couple more months in the shelter. Senior dogs don’t get adopted often and most of the time they just kinda die here.”
You held a hand close to your heart. “My gods.”
Cregan scoffed. “The gods aren’t here to help these animals. That’s on us.”
“Well, that’s…depressing.”
“Sadly, it’s the truth. Now, let’s get everything all official,” Cregan smiled and gestured for you to follow him.
Once again you found yourself amongst rows and rows of kennels with dogs in them. You passed the room full of the cat kennels and smiled. You wanted a cat terribly but knew now would not be the right time. Helaena would be happy to welcome in a new furry friend but you were afraid a cat might try to attack her birds or bugs that she so loved. Shaking your head free of the idea, you continued walking.
Vhagar happily walked beside Aemond, keeping perfect pace with him. She didn't pull or anything; she was perfect. Aemond couldn't help but look at her every now and then. You could tell he was still in shock. Vhagar, this beautiful Rottweiler, was going to help Aemond a lot, you just knew it.
Moments later, you and Aemond sat on one side of a desk with Vhagar relaxing on the floor and Cregan on the other side typing in a few things on his computer. Aemond's hand in yours, you couldn't help the smile that was on your face.
“Okay,” Cregan said as he finished typing, “all you owe is four hundred gold dragons, and that is including her de-wormer and aids check.”
A smile graced your face. “Perfect.”
Vhagar trotted happily beside Aemond on the way to the car; like she knew exactly what just happened. She had a new home with a new person who would love her and you felt content. Now that Aemond had a companion, you felt better about leaving him alone at his apartment, as far and few between that is.
When Aemond opened the door to the car Vhagar jumped in with no problem. She immediately laid down in the back seat and huffed a sigh.
“Tired already, old girl?” Aemond asked the dog.
She merely huffed again in response.
You could see how much happier Aemond was, even within a handful of minutes after adopting Vhagar.
“She's going to be good for you; she already is,” you said as you began driving.
Aemond sighed. “She is. I already feel better, lighter, even.”
“Good, good.”
The drive back to the apartment was nice. Occasionally, you and Aemond would talk but it would always circle back to Vhagar and how good she was going to be for Aemond and his mental health.
Vhagar was very content in the back seat, like she knew she was going to her forever home. Whenever you would look in the rearview mirror to get a glimpse of her, she would be laying down with her eyes closed. Whoever her previous owner was had her car trained. She didn’t bark or try to get in the front seat, she just quietly laid in the back.
By the time you had arrived back at the apartment, Vhagar was snoring in the back seat. You glanced at Aemond and gave him a small smile. Of course your new dog would be knocked out in the back.
“She’s your dog, Aems,” you pulled out your childhood nickname for him. “You can wake her up,” you said as you patted his thigh.
Aemond rolled his good eye and turned around in the seat. Even with the car parked, she had still not woken up. She snored softly. As you got out of the car, Aemond did the same and went around to the back and opened the back passenger door. It wasn’t until then that Vhagar woke up.
Groggy still, she shakily stood up on the back seat to hop down. When her paws hit the ground she shook herself out, waking herself up. You watched from your side of the car, leaning up against the door, as Aemond took Vhagar by the leash and brought her to the front door.
Following behind them, Aemond unlocked the door and brought Vhagar in. Unlike other dogs, who would be all over a new place, Vhagar was very calm and didn’t run around. Instead, she dragged around Aemond and sniffed everything.
“Make sure she doesn’t pee on anything!” You called out to him as they continued to venture through the apartment.
You laughed to yourself as you made your way to plop down on the couch. As you pulled out a book, you could hear shuffling all around the apartment as Vhagar continued to drag along Aemond. With her big size, it was easy for her to do so. She wasn’t aggressive about it, which was good, she was just strong and wanted to go where she wanted to go.
After a few more minutes of hearing Vhagar aggressively sniff everything, she had finally brought Aemond back to the couch. Aemond sat himself down beside you and put an arm around you. Vhagar, now free of someone holding her leash, circled the ground three times before settling down on a spot at Aemond’s feet. She and Aemond sighed together in harmony, both relieved to be sitting down and relaxing after an eventful day.
You snuggled close to him. “How are you feeling?”
Aemond began to rub your arm. “I’m feeling good,” he said as he nodded his head. “I’m excited about having a dog with me and I already feel a little better.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Of course, you’ve been a great help, as well.”
You smiled and nuzzled your head in the junction between his neck and shoulder. Taking in a deep breath, you inhaled his scent and let yourself relax even more. Aemond was always able to make you relax no matter what. Why, you didn’t know, but you took it in stride, just like with everything else when it came to Aemond.
“You know I’d do anything for you, right?” You asked him.
“I know that, darling. Just don’t go sacrificing too much for me, okay?” He pressed another kiss to your forehead. “You’ve already gone through so much, we’ve gone through so much. We don’t need either of us getting hurt more.”
You nodded your head and settled against him once more. It was like that for a while. You, Aemond, and Vhagar all together in the living room just taking in each other’s company and enjoying it. It was calm, it was lovely. You couldn’t imagine anywhere else you would rather be. As much as you wanted to stay like this forever, it was not meant to be.
Aemond’s phone went off, a notification. Eyebrows furrowed, he took his phone out of his pocket and looked at it. All the color drained from his face.
That look on his face did nothing to keep the calm serenity that was just previously in the air. “What’s wrong, Aemond?”
He let out a big breath. “I just got an email back from the dean. He’s requested a meeting between me and Professor Rivers.”
#fics by bean#modern aemond targaryen#aemond x reader#aemond x you#love in the darkest of places#modern aemond x you#modern aemond x reader#modern!aemond targaryen#modern!aemond x reader#hotd#hotd fanfic#modern hotd#modern au
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The difference between a dry nurse and a healer
It's interesting how at a glance these two roles appear similar, and how Eowyn fiercely rejects the first yet embraces the latter, and what's more is vindicated in the narrative for rejecting the first, yet is celebrated for accepting the latter. So to understand Eowyn's arc, it's important to look at the differences between a dry nurse and a healer.
Eowyn states herself she is not a dry nurse. Gandalf points out to Eomer that part of Eowyn's depression comes from her having been forced into the role of dry nurse. And in his own commentary, Tolkien says that Eowyn isn't a dry nurse by nature. So that's the character, the in-narrative voice of reason, and the writer himself all saying that Eowyn is very much not a dry nurse.
Now, what is a dry nurse, and how does that differ from healer? A dry nurse nurses. Seeing as that was Eowyn's role with her uncle, we can presume that to be a dry nurse was to be like a carer, someone who takes care of a person and tends to them on a day to day basis. Eowyn's role wasn't to cure her uncle, but to make him comfortable and support him as best as she can.
This was a role that was foisted on Eowyn unwillingly, for she was a woman, and there's a prevalent idea that women are just "inherent carers", that is comes more easily to them and that this is is there natural role. That emotional burden, that denial of other choices, isn't seen as an injustice to Eowyn until Gandalf spells it out to Eomer at the end, because as a woman that's just what she's suited for. She shouldn't have wanted something else, and if she did, it meant she was either lacking in something, selfish or defective.
This all came at the expense of her own personhood, and so she ended up feeling like the "staff" Theoden leant on. She was his living crutch, and this dehumanisation played a massive part in her depression, which was made worse by Grima's influence.
For all that LOTR is a fantastical setting, Eowyn's plight was very grounded and applicable to modern day. As her uncle's carer, her life revolved around his needs and wellbeing, she was stuck in the home because she couldn't leave him alone, and her own hopes, her own dreams, ambitions and desires were put aside as of lesser consequence. And because she's a woman, and therefore naturally inclined and suited for all this, she should have felt alright with this, and any resentment on her part is a sign that there was something wrong with her.
She was isolated and stagnant and she felt she couldn't even speak of her resentment because it was her duty to tend to her uncle, (Gandalf tells Eomer that Eowyn didn't share much of her feelings because of the duty she felt to him), and all of this left her vulnerable to Grima's emotional abuse. This situation can so easily be transplanted into modern day.
Being a carer is a really difficult job, tending to both the physical and emotional needs of another person. It's emotionally draining and challenging and it's all the harder when it's a family member, as that doesn't allow you some of the distance and space that professional carers have, as well as a life outside work which allows you to enjoy other pursuits and interests.
It's a hard enough job for professional carers who genuinely feel a calling for it, who choose that role and find satisfaction in it and have a chance to decompress and lead lives of their own away from their work, but Eowyn never felt such a calling, and caring for Theoden wasn't her job but her life. Her life had been dedicated to tending to the needs of a single other person. And all the while she cared for him, she knew she couldn't heal him or prevent the awful things happening to her country. She wasn't a person, but a tool, and in her mind, a tool of limited ability.
No wonder she yearned to go and die gloriously. Her life was no life, and yet with a glorious death she could reclaim something for herself, exist in the songs as her own being with her own deeds. She could live on after her death as she has never lived in life.
In life, she could only watch as her brother and cousin and peers got to leave Edoras, where she was caged and hopeless, and go out and do stuff, with the ties of comradeship to support them. Already, without Grima's influence, it would have been easy for Eowyn to hate herself for her seeming uselessness, to resent the world and her society for shutting her into that role, and to hate herself for hating her role, for it meant she was a failure as a woman and a niece.
Compare that to the role of the healer. A healer, by its very definition, heals things. It fixes things. A healer can't always succeed, but that is the healer's goal. To heal.
Now, we don't know specifically what Eowyn meant by being a healer, whether she literally meant she wanted to train in the healing arts, to learn how to set bones, clean wounds, perform surgery or cure sickness, or if she meant she wanted to live a lifestyle given over to healing the world around her (her new home Ithilien needs clearing of orcs, is a military outpost, and and lies near Minas Morgul, so there is much to be healed there, with a sword too, yay!) or if she meant both.
A healer is active. A healer needs to leave the domestic sphere to go to where there is trouble and put it to rights, whereas a live in dry nurse stays in the home and tends to a patient in their domestic setting (which is partially why it's seen as a more feminine role).
Eowyn, fearless, longing for deeds and open fields, needs to get out, needs some risk, needs to be bold and needs to be able to do work which has some sort of final goal or success to fight towards. Being a dry nurse is being a lover, pouring out empathy and compassion and care, and being a healer is being a fighter, someone who faces challenges and overcomes them, and that is who Eowyn is by nature. Someone wants things and fights for them.
As a healer, Eowyn would have a variety of tasks; whether that be literal patients or general problems in the world, that need fixing, which gives her more change and also a break, for she won't have just one life she has to constantly attend to.
The active, combative nature that made her long to be a soldier is what makes her suited to be a healer (both literal and figurative), someone who is confronted with challenge after challenge and has to tackle them. Who must come up with a battle plan and then take up her tools and get to work, sticking at it until victory is won.
But whereas a soldier's business is bringing death, a healer's business is bringing life (even if that may mean clearing away dangers and sicknesses in order for that life to flourish. If Eowyn does mean healing figuratively, her work may often cross over into the work of the soldier, but the intent behind it will be different.) Becoming a healer reconciles Eowyn's desire to go to battle with the need for her to embrace life and peace.
She cannot stay at home "in the cage" because what needs healing is beyond her doorstep. And as a healer, when she has done her part healing others, healing the outside world, she can go home, which is now a sanctuary and not a cage, and then she gets to do something else.
As a healer, she will have deeds to accomplish and an existence beyond the walls of her home. And her home, being a place she now gets to leave, a place of comfort and leisure, is a home at last. It's a place she can escape to, not a place to escape from.
As Eowyn and Faramir play around with gender roles a fair bit, it's not surprising that Faramir, a man and a soldier and a bloody good one, is naturally more inclined to being a carer or "dry nurse" than Eowyn is, and in many ways he would have done much better as Theoden's carer than Eowyn did. (Not that Eowyn was bad as a carer, like Faramir she felt it was her duty and she put in the work, but Faramir would have personally coped with it better.)
If anything, it might have been a role that would have brought Faramir satisfaction, if not one completely devoid of heartache and difficulties, because even for those suited for it, being a carer requires a lot and is inevitably draining.
But Faramir is deeply compassionate, compassions and caring does come naturally to him, and he values it highly, so he would have taken pride in knowing he was easing another's suffering, He would have seen the successes and progress and been able to celebrate them. And crucially, his love of lore and studying would have been an escape and often a consolation for him, and given him something of his own to work on, so his own personhood wouldn't have revolved around who he was caring for. His work as a carer could have coexisted with his work as a scholar, and thus he would have been making use of both his natural empathy and intellectual curiosity.
Faramir is also very emotionally intelligent. He is very quick to understand others feelings, even before they do, and can give them very apt emotional support. See how he is with Eowyn, how understanding he is of her love for Aragorn (no resentment or jealousy, he gets it), and her despair and her inner conflicts, and is able to communicate with her really well due to that insight. Between the two, it is Faramir doing the bulk of the emotional support, which must come as a blessed relief for Eowyn after all that time as Theoden's living crutch.
This is also why they work so well as a pairing. They have both experienced what it's like to be a carer and a fighter, to carry the burden of warfare and nursing, and together they're a partnership capable of caring and fighting, dry nursing and healing. They can both do both, but where is inclined one way, the other is inclined another way, and thus they balance each other out.
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Nerdy cultural details about the word "Hashira"
Some details can be hard to pick up without context or in translation. I recently went over a few details about the Hashira's names, Breaths, or symbols, but today I want to focus on the word "Hashira."
To get this out of the way, I use "Pillar" all over this blog because I thought that's what they were called. I was astounded that phrase was not translated, as it is a (somewhat rare) case of a one-to-one translation equivalent. They are the pillars that support the Demon Slayer Corp, after all. The kanji for it (柱) very literally means "pillar" in any modern day Japanese to English dictionary. But since you all know the word "Hashira," let's climb up and see where it takes us! First, the kanji itself (brought over from China and given the Japanese pronunciation "hashira," based on the existing spoken Japanese language), is composed of 木 for "tree" and 主 for "master" or "main/principal," among other semi-literal or more widely applicable possible meanings in modern kanji dictionaries. However, Prof. Owada Tetsuo, a retired university professor who published an unofficial book of his own Kimetsu no Yaiba interpretations based on Japanese demon slaying folklore, points out that 主 can also be interpreted as a still flame atop a candlestick, and that 柱 (hashira) is a tree that cannot be moved. (I'll continue to use a lot of Prof. Owada's details in this explanation, as well as details I have picked up in other research.) That makes 柱 closely associated with holy trees found in, or treated as, Shinto shrines throughout Japan. As Shinto is a nature-based belief system, trees are often something that a kami (deity) will inhabit. Keep Shinto in mind, because we're going to focus on that a lot.
Before that, let's finish up with the kanji 柱. According to the first official fanbook, there is an upper limit of nine Hashira because there are nine strokes in the 柱 kanji. (See this dictionary entry for a breakdown of those nine strokes.)
Now that the easy official tidbit is out of the way, back to the Shinto fun stuff and conjecture! We need to dive a bit more into the spoken Japanese language, from which a lot of Shinto terms derive. For starters, the Japanese language uses counter words for when you say a certain number of beings or objects. You could think of this as "a sheet of paper" or "three rolls of tape." It is an annoying part of starting out your study of the language because there are a lot to memorize based on sizes, shapes, types of animals, etc. Deities also have their own counter word: 柱 (hashira). This goes to show how the Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corp are something more than human, what with how much power they possess.
Now if we think about the pronunciation of the spoken Japanese word from long before a Chinese written character was assigned to it, the "hashi" of "hashira" is a "bridge." Clever ones among you might know that "hashi" also means "chopsticks." But even chopsticks have the same effect as a bridge! They serve as a connection, bridging the gap between you and what was another living thing, that which will become a part of you as your sustenance. "Hashira," as pillars, are likewise something that serve as a connection, in this case, a vertical one. They are that which connect us with the heavens, or in the case of the Demon Slayer Corp, they bridge the gap between the limits of human strength and the inhuman strength of demons.
As another Shinto tie, one of the connections that Prof. Owada and I both made was that there are nine pillars that support the main sanctuary in shrine architecture like that of Izumo Taisha Grand Shrine. Or rather, in the case of at least one of the historical iterations of Izumo Taisha, there were nine groups of three massive tree trunks each, resulting in a shrine over 48 meters in height (see here for photos of how big the remains of those pillars are and how exciting the archaeology is). These pillars give you a sense of awe for just how powerful pillars can be, especially when you have a spread of nine to distribute the weight. Now, there's more that Prof. Owada and I would both say about how Izumo Taisha also ties in with the "Ubuyashiki" surname or the "yakata" title by which the Hashira address him, but that's a dose of nerdery for some other time.
#kny nerdery#kny reference#kny references#I forget which tag and I'm sticking it in there for the official fanbook bit#otherwise this is what My Research makes possible#thank you My Research#and thank you Prof. Owada's Research even though I think you're stretching too far to make connections#for the sake of talking about other nerdy folklore stuff in a KnY themed book
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We have nine books on our new releases list this week! Which ones have caught your eye?
The Coven Tendency by Zoe Hana Mikuta Disney Hyperion
Just like her mother and her mother’s mother, 18-year-old Vanity Adams is destined to lead a lavish life under the patronship of the Museum, someday taking her place as its premiere necromantic Spectacle and the centerpiece of their weekly soirees thrown for the City’s elite. But until that day, Vanity (and the other young witches of the Museum) is isolated from the outside world and purged of her magic—magic being particularly unstable for teenagers and often leading to antisocial conduct, mood swings, bloodlust, delusions, and, most concerning, a habitual, violent obsession with one another. To all of this, Vanity thinks: Well, whatever. Better than being confined to the Sanatorium with the less fortunate witches, imprisoned in a chemically induced coma as her blood is harvested to make World, the City’s favorite designer drug. At least she’ll be dead someday, there’s always that. And at least the Museum has Arrogance, Vanity’s twin sister, who just might remember how to do magic, and who just might be where our story begins. . . .
The Family I'm In by Sharon G. Flake Scholastic Press
Sharon Flake's groundbreaking novel, The Skin I'm In ushered in a new voice that lit up the YA landscape, ignited important conversations about self-perception and racial identity, and became a modern classic that has been passed down through generations. The Life I'm In came next, bringing the same unmistakable voices of the characters who opened the hearts and minds of kids throughout the world, asked hard questions, and plunged readers into the harsh realities many teen girls face. Now, The Family I'm In brings back the same riveting characters - but this time focuses on the important relationships between Black fathers and sons. John-John and Caleb, friends since childhood, have come face-to-face with the struggles and triumphs of becoming young men. They're up against a world where many Black boys face complicated generational expectations and fears of the future. They summon their inner strength to push beyond family illness, mental health issues, parents, teachers, and society - to reach, succeed, and to live with dignity, purpose, and promise.
Give Up the Night (Moonstruck, 2) by P.C. Cast and Kristin Cast Wednesday Books
Since becoming Moonstruck on her eighteenth birthday, Wren Nightingale has found herself thrust into a world filled with deception, danger, and murder. Uncovering that their magick was fractured and limited when the original Moonstruck ritual was broken by Selene, Wren is determined to find a way to restore it. But the Elementals are split into two factions―some want the ritual completed and their freedom―and others are so terrified of change that they’re willing to end Wren before she can reach the center of the island where the ritual Selene ruined can be completed. Between his overbearing father’s arrival, Rottingham delegating him more and more responsibility, and Celeste taking a special interest in him, Lee Young has been struggling to find his own path. As much as Lee wants to take his place in the Moonstruck hierarchy, he knows something’s not right at the Academia de la Luna. He thinks if he can talk some sense into Wren and get her to return to the Academia, that everything will turn out alright. As Wren and Lee both battle for what they believe is right, they’ll have to uncover who their true allies are…and if they’re even on the same side of this magickal fight.
Huda F Wants to Know?: A Graphic Novel by Huda Fahmy Dial Books
Huda Fahmy is ready for junior year. She’s got a plan to join all the clubs, volunteer everywhere, ace the ACTs, write the most awe-inspiring essay for her scholarship applications. Easy. But then Mama and Baba announce the most unthinkable they’re getting a divorce. Huda is devastated. She worries about what this will mean for her family, their place in the Muslim community, and her future. Her grades start tanking, she has a big fight with her best friend, and everything feels out of control. Will her life ever feel normal again? Huda F wants to know.
Lady Knight (The Diamonds #2) by Amalie Howard Joy Revolution
Lady Zenobia “Zia” Osborn, a duke’s daughter, is frustrated that her entire life has been predetermined. What good is skill or intelligence if one is forced to suffocate it because of one’s sex? She’d much rather make her mark on the world than bat her eyelashes for the ton. Zia only comes alive in the Lady Knights, a clandestine social club for rebellious girls. In it, she is free to compose music, fence, read controversial literature, and save orphans from destitution by any means necessary. Aside from her closest confidantes, no one knows about Zia’s indecorous other life. . . . Until Mr. Rafi Nasser, a rogue with secrets of his own, finds out. Shocked yet intrigued by his best friend’s younger sister, he agrees to keep Zia’s secret—if only to help her avoid utter scandal.
Meet Me at Blue Hour by Sarah Suk Quill Tree Books
Seventeen-year-old Yena Bae is spending the summer in Busan, South Korea, working at her mom’s memory-erasing clinic. She feels lost and disconnected from people, something she’s felt ever since her best friend, Lucas, moved away four years ago without a word, leaving her in limbo. Eighteen-year-old Lucas Pak is also in Busan for the summer, visiting his grandpa, who was recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. But he isn’t just here for a regular visit—he’s determined to get his beloved grandpa into the new study running at the clinic, a trial program seeking to restore lost memories. When Yena runs into Lucas again, she’s shocked to see him and even more shocked to discover that he doesn’t remember a thing about her. He’s completely erased her from his memories, and she has no idea why. As the two reconnect, they unravel the mystery and heartache of what happened between them all those years ago—and must now reckon with whether they can forge a new beginning together.
Messy Perfect by Tanya Boteju Quill Tree Books
Cassie Perera is a star student in St. Luke's junior class. But the new school year brings an unwelcome surprise—the return to St. Luke's of Cassie's former friend, Ben, who left a few years ago after a homophobic bullying incident Cassie knows she didn't do enough to prevent. Still harboring guilt from her inaction, Cassie decides, in her usual, overzealous way, to team up with the neighboring public school to found an underground Gender and Sexuality Alliance—as a complicated strategy for making things up to Ben. Secretly, Cassie is also tempted by the possibility of opening up about her own sexuality for the first time. As Cassie’s new friends urge her out of her comfort zone, she unlocks a kind of joy and freedom she’s never felt before—even as she struggles to balance these experiences with her typical tightrope of being the perfect daughter, student, and Catholic. Cassie’s perfectly curated life unravels into turmoil, but can she embrace the mess enough to piece together something new?
Sunlight Playing over a Mountain by Selina Li Bi Soho Teen
A lyrical, mythology-tinged debut novel about a Chinese-Filipino teenager whose world of daydreams is destroyed by a family secret—perfect for fans of Emily X.R. Pan and Ann Liang. Jasmine Cheng has grown up on stories spun by her beautiful, free-spirited mother. Together, they’re the Phoenix and Dragon. Jasmine’s father is the god Pangu, creator of the heavens and earth. Her mother may have boyfriends, but Jasmine chases them away. For her mother, love brings chaos, sleepless nights, and frightening episodes, and it’s Jasmine’s job to keep their home life stable—especially now that a social worker has started to keep tabs on them. When the sudden arrival of Cal, her mother’s old flame, fractures their delicate world, events unfold that will send Jasmine on a cross-country journey to the West Coast—and into her past. Trapped in a tangle of fantasy and reality, Jasmine becomes determined to find the truth, even while her mother’s refusal to be honest drives a deeper wedge between them. Will the crack in their fantasy destroy her, or finally let the light in? Selina Li Bi’s magical debut perfectly portrays the pain of growing up in a less-than-magical world and introduces a remarkable new voice in young adult fiction.
Where Shadows Meet (Heirs of Shadows #1) by Patrice Caldwell Wednesday Books
The dark and thrillingly romantic debut vampire fantasy that questions what it truly means to sacrifice for love. You have no idea what I’ve done for love. Just as you have no idea what you may one day do. Once long ago, a girl named Favre sacrificed her wings for love. Thana, the young goddess she so willingly gave them up for, sacrificed that same love for power. But everything has a cost. Favre never got over the loss of her wings. And Thana’s choices led to a life of eternal night, and later, their destruction. Favre has bided her time ever since, waiting for the chance to resurrect the girl she loves who turned her into the creature she hates. Now, a thousand years later, Leyla, the crown princess of the malichora—an ancient race that survives on human blood —must travel to the Island of the Dead when her best friend is captured during an attack on her nation’s capital. Along with Najja, a fierce, beautiful seer, and the last person she expected to help her, Leyla forges down a dangerous path, intent on saving her friend. But nothing is as it seems. The closer she gets to her goal, the more she risks awakening an ancient evil and destroying everything she holds dear. Set in the aftermath of a war between vampires, humans, and the gods that created them, Patrice Caldwell’s devastatingly romantic fantasy debut, Where Shadows Meet, centers the heart-wrenching pain of loss and the struggle of self-discovery to ask: do we choose our fates, or do our fates choose us?
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It has come to my attention this week, after properly picking up my IPad for the first time this year, that I never posted this Rebellion Era!Bast that I did last year.
So here ya’ll go. My prodigal bastard son. He gets murdered by his ex-husband at one point, all out awful time. What is an even more awful time is the following 4000 years of being an undead minion to said ex-husband. Pureblood divorces, ammirite? Has a marginally less awful time during the rebellion era. ‘Finalises’ his divorce at long last, obtains a Fish Wife, becomes one with the knife (he has a prosthetic leg with a knife in the foot, lives his best bastard life with it). Could’ve done without the back pain though, that’s what all the dramatic leaning on things he shouldn’t is for. Bullies all modern Sith really, but especially a OC ex-Inquisitor of mine, so I don’t break cannon too much.
I joke, but he does genuinely try when helping the rebel crew he ends up with. Just, his skill tree is more catered to applying knives and lightning to people, not saving them from burning buildings. That’s his bad, he’ll own up to that one. In his defence though, he had a rather different life plan to what he’s currently living when he submitted his college applications. If you ever need a ridiculously morbid joke about his own murder however, he’s absolutely your man for the job.
#artists on tumblr#star wars#my art#my artwork#my ocs#sith pureblood#Bast#bast my son you deserve better#but the best you’re going to get is your wife sorry#you like her ALOT though so it mostly makes up for the horrors#LNart
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NSFW!Minors and Ageless blogs DNI!
Suguru x f!Reader, fwbs, modern au, Sugu’s a whore and so are you, mentions of vaginal sex, cunnilingus
Word count: 1k
Author’s yap: I started this with no direction but the song Harem by Miguel (the lomf), so let’s see if this gets posted or drafted for eternity. If so, the pt.2 will be in the works.

Harem
Suguru Geto has a thing for pretty things.
He can’t help it. He collects them, hoards them, and even if he never looks at them again, he takes comfort in knowing that they’re his. This is applicable to everything in his life: money, jewelry- women.
Modern-day concubines- his roster’s never ending. And he knows that with a simple text they’ll be over at his, ready to show him what pretty things do. Relationship or not. At first, they try to act like they’re above it- above cheating on their partner. But they always end up coming back to him on their hands and knees and stay in that position until he’s done.
He loves the pretty things and the pretty things love him. It’s almost every day that he adds one to the list.
So, of course, when he sees you sitting by your lonesome on the subway train, head swaying to the music you’re listening to, he of course has to have you.
He sits down next to you, body fully turned towards you with his arm resting on the back of the seat. He touches your shoulder lightly, like he’s perfected, so he doesn’t frighten you.
“Oh, hello.” You say, courteously, giving a cute little smile that just sends Suguru’s mind reeling. You’re so pretty.
It doesn’t take him long to secure your digits and have you in his bed by the weekend, pretty little cunt squelching around his cock while he tells you just how entranced he is by you, holding your face in his hand to make sure he sees every single facial expression you make for him. You’re not easy, no- but pretty things attract pretty things, and both of your interests were evident from the start. The way your brows are knit so tightly, eyes fluctuating between squeezing shut and rolling back in your eye sockets with little “oh oh oh!”s pouring out of your mouth, his thumb hooked inside of it. A gorgeous little thing you are- especially when you’re cumming, legs twitching on his hips while his other thumb rubs your clit frantically. Talkin you through it, reminding you how much you deserve to cum- you’re so pretty, you need to cum for him.
…
You’re too pretty. He tries to think- has he ever met a girl this pretty before? Is there anyone in his collection that calls his attention like you do? Of course, he thinks that of every pretty thing the first time he sees them. Then the awe and lust subside, and they become another part of the collection. But, he’s starting to get worried when he keeps thinking about you. And you’re the only girl that he’s being fucking consistently in a while. It’s terrifying. To him, at least. Seeing you walk out of his bedroom with his shirt on, nothing else, and your bonnet- since when did you get that comfortable being over at his? Heavy steps over to his fridge to grab some water while he looks at you from his couch. Giving him a little peck on the cheek, telling him you’ll see him next Saturday.
The two of you aren’t in a relationship, mind you. You both know that. You have your consorts, and he has his. But he just can’t help thinking about you while he’s balls deep in Pretty Thing #23, or accidentally moan your name while he’s cumming on Pretty Thing #12’s back. While eating out Pretty Thing #1, he even imagined it was you- missing the way you taste on his tongue, lapping at her like it was you. Doin everything he can to maybe dig your taste out of her, but of course, it wouldn’t work.
Out of all of his pretty possessions, you’re just you. Not Pretty Thing #1838382984478288472819, but you. Just Pretty. Pretty girl, when he’s wanting you real bad.
You’re too damn pretty.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
Bzzt!
“Fuck, Suguru-”
Oh- someone just texted him. His phone’s usually always on DND, except for one person. Reaching over Pretty Thing #7’s body, he grabs his phone from the nightstand which such haste it sends the poor girl hurling forward, a loud moan leaving her mouth from his entire length being shoved into her with no warning.
“Suguru- oh shit ‘m fuckin cumming!” She desperately circles her clit, legs shaking and face covered with spit.
It’s a text from you! He quickly unlocks his phone (also while mumbling some lazy words of encouragement for the girl twitching on his cock right now) and reads your message, his face practically pressed into his phone.
You: Come over pls
Something in him does somersaults- happy that you’ve picked him out of the lineup to warm your bed tonight. Takin his other hand, he uses it to massage Pretty Thing #whatever’s ass, slowly pulling her back onto him while he types his reply back to you.
Suguru: Be there in 15. In the shower this time.
He pulls out, the girl accepting his absence with a soft moan. Tiredly, she turns around to look at him with a big smile.
“You didn’t finis- oh, you have to go?”
She sounds disappointed, looking up at him while he’s damn near dressed already, stepping into his slides and fixing his hair, elastic in his mouth as he smooths it into a half-up half-down.
“Yea. Sorry, baby. It’s urgent.”
She pouts, which would have probably made any other man say fuck the urgency and get right back in bed with her, but Suguru’s not that man.
“Sorry.” He leans down, giving her a quick peck on the cheek while he fishes his keys out of his hoodie pocket. “I’ll call you.”
He steps out onto the stairs outside of the girls apartment, head deep in his phone.
Pretty Thing #7.
He slides her contact to the side, and deletes it. He sighs.
“Fuck, another one crossed off the list because of you.”
He unlocks his car, and gets in, doin 80 in a 35 to your place.
#jjk x reader#geto suguru#jjk#jjk suguru#getou suguru x reader#suguru x you#suguru x black reader#suguru x female reader
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Happy Birthday, René - Birthday Bloom Vignette P.2
Lilia: Shall we move on to the next question?
Lilia: “What is your best subject in school?”
René: You might assume my answer would be Flying, but it actually isn’t.
Lilia: No? Even as much as you fly?
René: I didn’t say my Flying grades were poor~. I just excel at something else entirely.
Lilia: Are you going to make me guess? Or worse, pay for an answer?
René: Aw, what do you take me for~? I’m not as heartless as the octopus that would milk you for everything you’re worth.
René: No, my two best subjects are Practical Magic, and Enchantments And Illusions.
Lilia: Enchantments and Illusions, eh? That’s not an elective I see folks commonly taking nowadays.
René: You could say that it’s a passion of mine. I particularly take interest in how they were used in ancient times. And I’ve always wondered why mages don’t opt to use them nowadays.
Lilia: What about stories from olden days makes you think we could benefit from them now?
René: I’m uncertain if you are familiar with the tale of the Black Swan.
Lilia: Ah, the Black Swan who enticed the Hunter Prince using illusion magic?
René: Yes! The Black Swan, using illusion magic, managed to disguise herself from head to toe, including even her voice to make herself look identical to the Swan Princess. And because the combination of illusion magic and acting skills were so refined, she fooled the Prince into believing she was the love of his life. He swore an oath to devote his life to her that night.
Lilia: That does sound like incredibly powerful magic. How do you think this could apply to modern day?
René: I think immediately to actors and actresses like Vil Schoenheit. How illusion magic could be used in tandem with practical effects to create certain visual looks. It would be far more convincing than any attempt at C.G. because of how real the magic is.
Lilia: I can see what you mean by that. And I’m sure it would create a seamless transition between illusion and reality. It would take an awful lot of skill to pull something like that off, don’t you think?
René: if it were up to me? If the actor and practical effects artist couldn’t pull it off as needed, then I simply wouldn’t hire them. Isn’t that part of the casting and hiring process? Finding someone befitting the job?
Lilia: I suppose you have a fair point there. I don’t know as that would be applicable in all circumstances.
René: No? What about in music then? I hear you enjoy shows that can entertain an audience.
Lilia: Well, now you have me curious. Kheeheehee~ how would you use Illusion Magic during a show?
René: Don’t some concerts use fire? Lasers? Costume changes? You could throw something seemingly dangerous at the audience but at no risk of injury because the effect is an illusion.
Lilia: Like some sort of explosion? That could be fun~.
René: Perhaps! Or if you wanted to pair that with your broomless flying, you could make it look like you were flying on the back of a mythical creature- a chimera or a dragon of sorts.
Lilia: Fufufu~, I like the way you think. I’ll have to keep a mental note of that for the future.
René: I look forward to seeing what you do with it.
✨️✨️✨️
Part 1
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