#I know she’s not a history major but that’s a history major mood

[wackachewbacca]

Why is it with all the books I’ve read by R. F. Kuang it always comes down to entitled white Eurocentric powers trying to invade, colonize and get the very real or fictional state of China addicted to opium? And she’s so real for it honestly cause the real enemy all along is just an arrogant white man

[thebibliosphere]

Whenever I talk about the medical neglect and ableism I've encountered as a victim of the healthcare system, there's always some cockwaffle who feels entitled to come into my inbox and make the argument of "not all doctors" while talking about how "people like them" (because it's always someone in a field of medicine who does this) are doing their best and it's really hard because so many people fake being ill to get on welfare (Yikes), but like, yeah, obviously #not all doctors, because if all doctors were negligent, bullying scum bags, I'd be dead.

But here's the thing: while I truly believe that the majority of doctors are doing their best in a system stacked against them and their patients, their presence does not negate the mass harm caused by the bad ones. And there are far more bad ones than you realize.

Fuck, John Oliver literally did a segment on this last week:

Yes, the truly bad, malicious doctors are in the minority. Most are just horrifically burned out and fighting a losing battle against a system, killing both them and their patients through a lack of funding and resources and profound overwork.

But the malicious ones do exist, and they will go out of their way to harm patients who don't kowtow to them.

I almost lost my life because when I was in my early twenties, I told a doctor I didn't think she was listening to me, and I disagreed with her assessment of my mental health (she was not a mental health doctor, and I was there for heart palpitations and chronic pain). She retaliated by putting "non-compliant" in my file.

There was also a fun little "doesn't show respect" note too that lives rent-free in my head because I know I wasn't rude. I was polite. I just didn't agree with her, and my refusal to accept her off-handed comment that "you probably have bipolar or BPD" (again, I was there for heart palpitations and chronic pain) meant I was "refusing care."

I wasn't. I just refused to be slapped with a mood/personality disorder when I was there because I kept fucking fainting when I stood up.

(Spoiler alert: it was dysautonomia)

That "non-compliant" marker followed me around for years. It followed me across an ocean and effectively ensured that any doctor I saw was going to treat me like absolute dogshit because no one wants to help Difficult Patients. It wasn't until I was so undeniably ill, literally on the brink of death, that anyone helped me.

I'm alive because of a good doctor. And all the good ones that came after him because of him.

So, I know they exist. You don't have to tell me that.

But I really fucking need you to acknowledge the bad ones and that you're part of a system with a long, long history of abusing minorities and vulnerable people. I need you to acknowledge that because it's the only way we're going to survive this godforsaken nightmare and make things better.

So yeah, #notalldoctors, but if you feel the need to say that because someone talking about being literally left to die by the medical system hurts your feelings, I'm going to have to ask you to take a step back and ask yourself if you're going into medicine for the right reasons.

Namely: do you want to help people, even the "difficult" ones?

Even the ones who might disagree with you?

Even if they're on welfare?

Even if they'll never get "better" in a way that means "cured"?

Just a thought. But hey, what do I know. I'm just someone who experienced hemolytic anemia because doctors kept telling me I was anxious and needed to exercise more 🤷‍♀️.

[mechaknight-98]

Brave (NSFW) FT Jihyo

Part I

Author’s note: …I’m so whipped for this woman, but hey it’s not so bad

In the vast expanse of the galaxy, corruption and exploitation ran rampant, fueled by the four major intergalactic oligopolies. As a result, space piracy surged across every sector, becoming both a refuge and a rebellion against these oppressive powers.

Among the numerous pirate crews, some stood out for their strength and notoriety. The Marvelous Pirates were considered the premier crew to join, while the legendary Whitebeard and Gold Roger pirates were revered as royalty for their long and storied histories. Yet, there was one name that struck fear into the hearts of even the most powerful oligarchs: "Diabolos the Dreaded."

Little was known about Diabolos, except that he had brought three formidable privateers of the oligarchs to their knees. Then, one day, he vanished without a trace, leaving behind a legacy shrouded in mystery.

On a distant, uncharted planet, Jihyo woke up to the sound of her alarm, groaning as the morning sun streamed through her window. Another morning, another day in her idyllic paradise. She reached over to wake her sleeping boyfriend, only to find his side of the bed empty. He was already up and out, leaving her to start the day on her own.

As she searched for him, she felt around and noticed a note on the nightstand by his side of the bed.

"Work needed me there earlier so I can't ride in with you today, but I already made lunch and breakfast for you, Yo-Yo (picture a yo-yo drawing instead of the word yo-yo made with Jihyo’s favorite colors). -Dio" the note read.

Jihyo smiled at her boyfriend's thoughtfulness and kindness. She thought about how lucky she was to have found him two years ago while he was going to the restroom. As she got up, showered, and prepared for the day, she remembered that today marked their second anniversary and that she needed to find a gift for him. Unable to hide his enthusiasm and love for her, he had already taken her to a lovely dinner at one of the nicest restaurants in Seoul and given her a beautiful cobalt and silver dress that she adored. But she couldn't quite think of what to get him.

Despite being a sweet, big, lovable guy, Dio remained somewhat of a mystery to her. He loved the sea and night sky and enjoyed oceanic/astrophotography and graphic design, which he did for work at the nearby college's ocean and astronomy-related studies. Other than that, he was very reserved and guarded, and she knew little about his family or friends. she didn't have to worry about it too much as she had all day to think about it. As she moved through their homey apartment, she noticed all of the little memories that they had made over the years; the tickets and movie poster from their first date framed, the snow globe from their trip to NYC, the photo from her tour. all these memories made her smile, as she moved throughout their little abode. She smiled as she walked out ready to start the day.

While Jihyo was getting ready Diabolos was already neck-deep in his shift. The University had him taking pictures of a rare whale that had been sighted off the coast for them. After finishing up with the crew they smiled.

“Okay, that should be enough photos for now.” The leader and head of the oceanic studies department says. Dio nods as both get out of the water. The air is cold but refreshing.

“Hey, Dio. How did your date with your girlfriend go last night? She asked

Dio smiled, “Oh fantastic. She was so happy with how things turned out and you were right she loved the dress,”

The head of Oceanics nodded “Good. Oh hey, before I forget there was the lady she was looking for you. Her name was something with a V or B like Vol or Boljune or something.”

Diabolos tried to hide his anger.

“Oh really? Good to know.” He said through gritted teeth the calming waves of the ocean doing little to brighten his now dour mood. The head of Oceanics noticed this and responded,

“Is everything alright?”

Diabolos nodded and said, “Yeah just an ex.”

The head of Oceanics needed no explanation further. They sailed back to shore and docked the boat before uploading the pictures. While in the office the professor dismissed him saying, “Well that was all I needed help with. You’re free to go,” Diabolos nodding began to leave before wishing her well and going to see Jihyo.

On his way, Diabolos reminisced about better days with Voljune before everything went wrong.

The dimly lit cabin of the spacecraft was filled with the gentle hum of the engines as Diabolos sat across from Voljune. They were in a secluded corner of the vessel, far from the busy control center. Voljune, with her striking features and curious eyes, studied him intently. She noticed he was watching a spinning globe of Earth his home planet in his hand.

“You’ve always had a fondness for Earth,” Voljune remarked, her voice a mix of curiosity and nostalgia. “What do you miss most about it?”

Diabolos leaned back, a wistful smile crossing his lips. “A lot of things, really. But the music stands out. All of the music out here sounds in space it’s so samey and ostentatious. But then There’s something just something about earth music that always brings me back.”

Voljune’s interest was piqued. “Music? What kind?”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, well-worn device. After a few taps, he turned the screen toward her, displaying a vibrant image of Jihyo from Twice, her radiant smile captivating even in a still photo. “This is Jihyo. She’s part of a group called Twice. Their music is… it’s special. It lifts your spirit, fills you with energy.”

Voljune leaned in, her eyes studying the image with genuine admiration. “She’s beautiful. You’ve got excellent taste, as always.”

Diabolos chuckled a hint of pride in his voice. “Thanks. It’s not just her looks, though. It’s her passion for music, the joy she brings. It reminds me of the best things about Earth.”

Voljune returned the device, a thoughtful expression on her face. “She must be quite extraordinary for you to speak of her like that.”

“She is,” Diabolos replied, a softness in his tone. “Being around her feels like being connected to Earth’s best parts. The joy, the culture, the life.”

Voljune looks at the picture more intently memorizing Jihyo’s features and characteristics “You know seeing her up close makes me realize you have…what’s the phrase you taught me… oh right a type, because you definitely have one.” Voljune teases.

Diabolos raises his eyebrows as Voljune drapes her arms around his shoulders and stares into his soft brown eyes, “You like strong women. Women who can fight for themselves, but ones who are soft and gentle. You also like fit with a big bust and wide hips, and a rather plump…” Diabolos cut Voljune off before she could finish. Voljune smiled at her favorite human and how he always flustered so easily.

“Regardless I miss home and hope I’ll be able to get back soon,”

Voljune nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Perhaps Earth isn’t as mundane as I imagined. You’ve certainly given me something to think about.”

For a moment, silence filled the cabin, punctuated only by the steady hum of the ship.

“You should come with me to a concert someday,” he suggested, breaking the quiet. “I think you’d enjoy it.”

Voljune laughed softly, a rare warmth in her voice. “I might just take you up on that offer. Who knows? Maybe I’ll become a fan.”

Back to the present day, Jihyo smiled when she heard that Dio was here to see her. She sent him up. When she saw him she ran into his arms and said

“You know I missed you this morning.” Diabolos smiled at Jihyo before bringing her in for a kiss.

“I know and I’m sorry, it’s just that Senwan discovered a new whale species and she wanted me to take pictures of the first in-nature sighting.” Jihyo pouted but it quickly turned into a smile as she said,

“Okay, but tonight and tomorrow you're mine.”

“But don’t we have the double date with Dahyun and Dracul?” Diabolos reminded Jihyo who nodded and cursed herself slightly.

“Right well then after Dinner you’re mine,” Jihyo said. She smiled as Diabolos looked at her with eyes full of affection and concern.

“My my I must say Diabolos you have outdone yourself.” Voljune rings out. In a flash Diabolos swings and takes out his imagined saber. He turns to see Voljune saunter closer her blue skin contrasting the pale beige light. She smiles at Diabolos. As she approaches the nearby plants wilt slightly in her presence. The air seems to grow colder around her.

“Good to see you haven’t lost your edge darling,” Voljune says.

“Dio, who’s this?” Jihyo asks and Diabolos moves to a protective stance that has him in between Jihyo and Voljune and says, “My ex!”

Voljune pouts, “Oh come on Darling. Don’t be like that after all you don’t even know why I’m here. It’s the least you could do after you disappeared.”

Jihyo tenses as she watches Diabolos cover her from this blue lady. She also wondered where he got the sword from, but she still trusted him.

“What do you want?” Jihyo asked which surprised both Voljune and Diabolos

“Oh my, she is a strong one. I guess I was right after all Darling you do have a type,” Voljune said with a smile.

“You heard her what do you want and be quick about it,” Diabolos said

“Well, I just came to warn you that my sibling is coming to earth to take over and find you.”

Jihyo watched Diabolos’ sense of self, his essence, darken with an emotion she’d only seen bits and pieces of whenever he woke up from a nightmare. She couldn’t place it and she didn’t like seeing him in that place. So she stepped in front of him

“Listen here, lady you are not about to come out of nowhere and talk to my man like that, and this sibling of yours better be careful because I am not letting either of you have access to him.” Voljune smiled. She knew her next host would be in case of emergency. She stared at Jihyo before sighing.

“Okay well then I’ll go, but darling you better watch out because my sibling has their eyes set on having you this time and not your mentor.” Jihyo watched nervously as Voljune left. She then turned to Diabolos furious and asked

“What was that all about.”

The darkness she saw earlier abated and Diabolos sighed,

“Do you want the longer version or the short version?”

“Short for now,” Jihyo said.

“Voljune is part of a "parasitic race that takes over people and runs a trafficking ring. She is the twin to another who took my body for a joyride They rule a major portion of the universe, along with 3 other big "oligarchy families."

Jihyo noticed Dio's eye twitch meaning he was hiding something. Jihyo scowled “Dio You’re lying. There’s more.”

Dio sighed unsure how to respond.

Jihyo relented in her stare when she saw his discomfort. She knew if she pushed her way through that she might really upset Diabolos. So she retracted. While this was going on halfway across the galaxy Narset watched a live feed of Earth with dispassionate interest.

Narset sits languidly on a floating chair, surrounded by swirling holographic projections. Her expression is one of utter disinterest as she gazes at the rotating image of Earth.

She idly flicks her fingers, adjusting the holographic displays. "This little blue planet," she muses, her voice dripping with condescension. "They call it Earth. Hardly seems worth the effort, doesn't it? I mean the dominant species are good slaves but so are several other planets."

An attendant reports on Diabolos' activities on Earth. Narset waves her hand dismissively, scoffing, "That Diabolos… just a slightly sapient monkey with delusions of grandeur, but he was a useful monkey. Got me this body after all. I wonder how he survived the severing, but it doesn't matter too much. He couldn't stop me then. He won't now."

Narset leans forward, inspecting a holographic map of Earth with strategic points marked "I won't even need to dirty my hands," she says, a smirk playing on her lips. "Send one of those weak Bio-claimers. They'll handle this primitive world well enough."

She reclines back, turning her gaze away from the Earth display. "Why waste resources on a rock that poses no threat?" she mutters, her voice trailing off as she shifts her focus to more pressing matters in her empire like the regent ball she was to attend soon or any other number of things.

An attendant nods, acknowledging her command. "Yes, my lady. As you wish." The hologram of Earth fades away, replaced by other pressing concerns of the galaxy, leaving Narset disinterested and already moving on to the next item on her agenda. As she walks out she muses to herself.

"I wonder what Voljune sees in you little monkey."

Later that night back on earth the bio-claimer lands, and begins to destroy Seoul. The reason why Seoul was chosen as the target was because Narset figured that the best way to show Diabolos his inferiority was to send the Bio-claimer to his home.

The monstrous bipedal amalgamation rampages through the city. This leads to him interrupting Jihyo, and Diabolos' intimate times when they get the Evactuation notification.

Diabolos and Jihyo were making out and enjoying a late dinner since their plans got disrupted due to the monster. Diabolos gets up and goes to deal with it.

His walk to face the bio-claimer is like a block and a half away. Diabolos summoned his Imagine blade and then Slashed through the Bio-claimer in one strike before going back to Jihyo.

Jihyo paced the length of their small apartment, her eyes darting to the clock every few seconds. The distant sounds of chaos in the city had subsided, but Diabolos hadn’t yet returned. Her mind raced with worry, envisioning every possible scenario. She knew he’d return, but couldn’t shake the fear.

Suddenly, a soft knock echoed from the door, jolting her from her anxious thoughts. She approached cautiously, hesitating before pulling it open. There stood Voljune, her blue skin marred with bruises and cuts, her usual confident demeanor replaced by fatigue.

“Voljune?” Jihyo’s voice wavered with surprise and suspicion. “What are you doing here?”

Voljune staggered slightly, leaning against the doorframe. “I came to warn you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is just the beginning for Diabolos. It will only get harder from here.”

Jihyo’s heart sank, her concern for Diabolos magnified by Voljune’s words. “What do you mean?”

Voljune took a shaky breath. “Narset won’t stop. She’ll keep sending worse until he’s overwhelmed. If you want to help him, you need strength.”

“What are you saying?” Jihyo asked, a mix of fear and determination in her eyes.

“You need to merge with me,” Voljune replied, her gaze steady despite her injuries. “I can give you the power to stand by him.”

Jihyo’s mind spun with the implications. She barely knew Voljune and was wary of her motives, but the desperation to protect Diabolos overpowered her hesitation.

“I… I’ll do it,” Jihyo agreed, her voice firm despite the panic rising within her.

Voljune nodded, a hint of relief in her eyes. “This will hurt, but it’s the only way.”

As Jihyo steeled herself, Voljune stepped closer. In a sudden, fluid motion, Voljune’s form shimmered and dissolved into a blue mist, enveloping Jihyo. The sensation was both cold and electrifying, as if icy tendrils were weaving through her very being.

Jihyo gasped, clutching the doorframe as Voljune’s essence merged with hers. Her vision blurred, and she felt a surge of unfamiliar energy coursing through her veins.

Within her mind, Jihyo heard Voljune’s voice. “You love him too, don’t you?”

“I do,” Jihyo admitted, surprised by how natural the response felt. “I just want to protect him.”

Voljune’s presence pulsed with understanding. “We’re not so different, you and I. We both care for him deeply, even if our methods have been… complicated.”

“You’ve seen him at his worst, haven’t you?” Jihyo asked, feeling the weight of shared memories.

“Yes,” Voljune replied softly. “But I’ve also seen his strength, his kindness. That’s what drew me to him.”

“And you think merging will help?” Jihyo asked, a mix of skepticism and hope in her thoughts.

“Together, we can be stronger. For him.” Voljune’s voice was steady, and Jihyo could feel the sincerity behind her words.

As the merging process continued, Jihyo felt a sense of solidarity with Voljune. Their shared love and determination to protect Diabolos formed a bond that transcended their initial distrust.

When the sensation subsided, Jihyo blinked, feeling a new awareness and strength within her. She steadied herself, her heart still racing from the unexpected transformation.

Just then, the door creaked open further, and Diabolos appeared, his silhouette framed against the dim hallway light. His eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Jihyo, standing with an intensity he hadn’t seen before.

“Jihyo?” he asked, concern etched on his face. “What happened?”

Jihyo met his gaze, her voice steady as she replied, “I’m ready to help you, Dio. Whatever it takes.”

Diabolos’ mood soured as he saw familiar spots in Jihyo’s eyes. He stiffened, and Voljune knew she’d been caught, but she couldn’t really process that now as the merging process was still very new and Jihyo was her first human. As their memories and minds merged, Voljune got to see domestic Diabolos—how considerate and caring he was—while Jihyo saw Dreadful Diabolos, the warring pirate whose legacy tore through several planets and galaxies.

At first, the memories of Diabolos clashed in her mind, causing Jihyo to yell at Diabolos. “Don’t come near me, you lying monster!” she yelled, and Diabolos had to cool his temper, because the one thing he didn’t want to have happened occurred. Jihyo merged with Voljune, and he was having difficulty processing it, but he remained calm.

“Listen to me, Yo-yo,” Diabolos said, scratching his head, a gesture Jihyo recognized as him trying to find the right words. “He always does that when he’s about to say something important,” Jihyo thought.

But Jihyo and Voljune were still working on the kinks of this little endeavor and were still at odds.

“How dare you lie to us. You are a monster/hero. Why are you so different with her?” Jihyo’s voice was overlaid by Voljune’s. Diabolos’ eyes narrowed, and Voljune noticed the micro twitches in his jaw, the barely restrained anger simmering beneath the surface. “He’s holding back, trying not to lose control,” Voljune observed.

Emotions fought within him, but in a calm, stern voice, he said, “That’s enough.” It was a tone unfamiliar to both Jihyo and Voljune, but to them both, it radiated strength and authority. It served as an anchor point as Jihyo was able to calm down enough for the memories and the extra consciousness in her body to settle, and as they did, more memories of Diabolos flooded through. These memories didn’t show Diabolos as a conquering warlord or a caring worker but the human he was when he was playing a role.

They showed his heart, caring, competitiveness, drive, and determination, and in these moments, both Voljune and Jihyo saw Diabolos in his totality. This let them calm down enough to let the merge finish. As it did, Diabolos’s rage (and other confusing emotions) began to rise.

“Voljune, why would you do this?” Diabolos questioned, as he did he took a long drawn out breath, a sign that he was trying to think through his emotions.

Jihyo and Voljune looked at Diabolos with genuine surprise. The hurt in his voice and his expression were things he couldn’t really mask with anger nor his other emotions swimming inside. They saw them all, and Jihyo responded.

“I wanted to be by your side with this, and I was worried that I’d lose you if I couldn’t fight with you.”

Diabolos sighed, his shoulders slumping, a sign that Voljune recognized as him feeling overwhelmed. “I never wanted to have to fight or have you fight with me,” he said adamantly.

Jihyo scoffed and said, “Why not?” Jihyo and Voljune asked in sync. As more memories merged with each other, they felt their mutual love of Diabolos heighten their emotions.

“Because…” Diabolos stammered, his hand moving to his head again, a gesture Jihyo knew meant he was wrestling with his words.

Jihyo’s and Voljune’s tempers began to rise as all the memories of Diabolos giving her the “princess” treatment. “Because you think I’m dainty, that I can’t—”

Before she could finish that statement, the response she got was startling. “Because I’m evil, and no one should be stuck with me. Because I believe that everyone exists to hate me or make me hate myself, and for that crime they should be eradicated, and the only peace from those violent intrusions in my brain is from when I’m fighting or spending time with you. But now my heart’s all fucked up because I don’t want you to get hurt or strung up in my bullshit,” Diabolos yelled, his body tense, a raw display of vulnerability that both Jihyo and Voljune could feel.

Jihyo felt her heart race a little. Diabolos rarely cursed around her, especially with such force that she felt excitement and desire run through her body, which overwhelmed Voljune. She had never felt so desired, so needed, and that, in combination with the hormones dousing her, melted her mind to where all she could think about was throwing herself at Diabolos. But she pushed down both of their need for Diabolos right now.

As the rawness of Diabolos’ confession hung in the air, Jihyo felt a complex swirl of emotions coursing through her, intensified by Voljune’s presence. Her heart pounded, both from Diabolos’ words and the newfound energy within her.

“That's not what I expected,”* Voljune admitted quietly within Jihyo’s mind. “I thought I knew him, but this vulnerability and anger it’s… It’s something else.”

“I know,” Jihyo replied, her mental voice softening. “It’s why I love him. There’s so much more to him than the warrior he shows the world.”

Diabolos stood before them, his posture tense and defensive, as if bracing for rejection. But as Jihyo looked at him, she felt the internal conflict settle into a determined resolve. She took a step forward, bridging the gap between them, and reached out to touch his arm.

“Dio,” she said gently, her voice steady, infused with both her own emotions and Voljune’s. “We’re not afraid of your past. We’re here because we believe in you, in who you are now. We’re not leaving you.”

Diabolos’ eyes flickered with uncertainty, but Jihyo could see the hope buried beneath his defenses. He scratched his head again, a gesture of hesitation and thought, and she couldn’t help but smile at the familiarity of it. Despite all of these new things she was learning about him he was still the same easily flustered man she’d fallen for.

“We’re stronger together,” Jihyo continued her grip firm on his arm. “You don’t have to face this alone.”

Voljune added her voice to Jihyo’s, the two of them harmonizing in their shared determination. *“Let us stand with you, Diabolos. We can face whatever comes next together.”

Diabolos exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He looked at Jihyo, then at the reflection of Voljune’s presence in her eyes, and nodded, a silent agreement passing between them. He noticed Voljune’s color shifting from cool blues to fiery reds it surprised him as red was Jihyo’s favorite color.

“Okay,” he said, his voice still rough but more composed. “Together.”

Jihyo felt a warmth spread through her, the connection between them deepening with this shared understanding. She leaned into him, feeling his strength and vulnerability, and knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them side by side.

As they stood there, united in purpose, Jihyo and Voljune began to learn how to navigate their shared existence. They could sense each other’s thoughts, their hopes and fears intertwined, and they realized that together, they were a formidable force.

Voljune also realized that Jihyo would be her last host. This was the closest she had ever felt to a host and it frightened and excited her.

Diabolos wrapped his arms around Jihyo, pulling her close. The embrace felt different, with Voljune’s presence subtly altering the dynamic, but it was comforting nonetheless.

“We’ll figure this out,” Jihyo murmured into Diabolos’ hair, and he knew she was right.

“We will,” he thought, ready to face whatever the future held.

The next few days were definitely awkward between them. Voljune and Jihyo loved to tease and flirt shamelessly with Diabolos and this only increased as they would constantly egg each other on.

The afternoon sun streamed through the apartment windows, casting warm light on Jihyo and Diabolos as they lounged in the living room. Voljune's presence was subtle but noticeable to Diabolos, her energy blending seamlessly with Jihyo’s.

Jihyo stretched out on the couch, giving Diabolos a mischievous glance. “You know, Dio, I was just thinking about how much you love those rare steaks. Voljune and I were wondering if maybe you’d like to grill some tonight?” She tilted her head, letting the light catch her eyes, which now occasionally flickered with Voljune's fiery hues.

Diabolos shifted in his chair, trying to maintain his composure. “Uh, yeah, I could go for that. You know I can never say no to a good steak.”

Voljune chimed in, her voice echoing softly in Jihyo’s mind, “See how he tries to stay cool? Let’s push him a bit more.”

Jihyo leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as her cleavage peeks through. “And maybe afterward, we could watch that old space opera you love. Voljune mentioned she’s curious about why you like it so much.”

Diabolos cleared his throat, his cheeks tinged with a hint of red as he tried to look in the right places. “Well, it’s got great action and… uh, the soundtrack is pretty epic.”

Voljune added playfully, “He’s getting flustered. Let’s see what else we can do.”

Jihyo stood up and walked over to him, casually brushing her fingers through his hair. “And I couldn’t help but notice how you always scratch your head when you’re trying to figure out how to impress me. It’s adorable.”

Diabolos laughed nervously, reaching up to scratch his head unconsciously, realizing too late that he’d fallen right into their trap. “You’re both relentless, you know that?”

“That’s the point,” Voljune teased, her presence giving Jihyo an extra edge in their playful banter. “He likes the chase, even if he won’t admit it.”

Jihyo grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind the chair. “We just love seeing you flustered. It’s nice to know we still have that effect on you, even after everything.”

She moved around to sit on his lap, her arms encircling his shoulders. Voljune’s energy added a subtle warmth, a comforting presence that enveloped him.

Diabolos shook his head, trying to maintain his usual cool demeanor but failing spectacularly. “You two are impossible.”

Jihyo pressed a light kiss to his cheek, her lips lingering longer than usual, sending a shiver down his spine. “But you wouldn’t have it any other way, right?”

Diabolos finally relaxed, a genuine smile breaking through his flustered facade. “No, I guess not. It’s… kind of nice having you both here.”

Jihyo rested her head against his, the closeness bringing a soothing calm over them all. Voljune’s presence added a gentle pressure, like a hug from within, reinforcing their bond.

Jihyo ran her fingers through Diabolos’ hair, her touch both teasing and tender. “You’re always so tense. Let us help you unwind.”

Diabolos sighed, leaning into her touch. “You’re too good to me.”

Jihyo chuckled, Voljune’s laughter echoing in her mind. “You deserve it, even if you don’t believe it yet.”

With the afternoon light casting a golden hue over them, Jihyo and Voljune shared a silent moment of triumph. Their connection was stronger than ever, and Diabolos’ flustered delight was proof of their successful teamwork. As they sat together, surrounded by warmth and affection, Diabolos knew he wouldn’t want it any other way.

That night Jihyo learned that living with Voljune inside of her was going to be an… adjustment. Despite their high compatibility, Voljune had never been in a human before so everything was new to her. The major thing was the sensitivity difference. At this point, Jihyo had been off of birth control for a while and was accepting of the fact that at some point Diabolos was going to impregnate her eventually which kept her normal most days and throughout most of her cycle. Voljune however had never experienced human female ovulation and it hit her (and by extension Jihyo) like a truck.

When Jihyo woke up in the middle of the night because of Voljune feeling her horniess for the first time it was unpleasant. To make matters worse Voljune had turned her body’s sensitivity and hormone up to 20. Her reasoning is that it would help her become stronger quicker as they become more symbiotic with each other.

“Fuck Jihyo moaned waking up from a disastrous wet dream that had her squirting all over the bed. When she stopped the sheets were ruined and her mind was mush. Voljune wasn’t much help either as both she and Jihyo were adrift in a storming sea of lust and needed Diabolos to ferry them to safe harbor. They reached out to his side of the bed only to find it empty. Jihyo worried as to where he was went to look around for him, as he was never up this late on an off day. Her fears were partially abated when she saw him standing alone on their shared balcony overlooking the city. She smiled but began to feel the heat rising within her. She needed him inside her in some way shape or form in the next fifteen minutes or she was going to do something drastic. Voljune was no help as she was so overwhelmed by the sensitivity of everything Jihyo felt like the fact that her shirt fabric rubbing against Jihyo’s nipples got her so wet in turn making Voljune even hornier for Diabolos making Jihyo even hornier and more sensitive. By the time Jihyo had located and began approaching Diabolos her panties and shorts were ruined. Jihyo approached Diabolos and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Everything okay Dio?”

“Yeah, Yo-yo just go a lot on my mind.”

“You wanna talk about it?” Jihyo asked.

She felt Dio ease and turn to her. He was taken aback by how flushed her face was and how hard her nipples were.

“Um, Yo-yo are you okay?” Dio asked concerned. Jihyo nodded then said.

“I do need you but it can wait.”

Diabolos made the executive decision to help Jihyo out before she exploded.

“No, I can wait it looks like you’re about to die from horny.” Diabolos joked. Jihyo smiled. Diabolos hadn’t really smiled so genuinely at her since Voljune arrived. Speaking of Voljune had never felt what she was feeling now, but the way Diabolos looked at her and cared for her (Jihyo) made her lose it. So lost in lust all she could say was “fuck me” repeatedly. Jihyo heard this and rolled her eyes before bringing Diabolos back into their love next. She smiled as she got on her knees.

“Can I please suck your cock?” Jihyo asked/begged. Diabolos was a bit concerned as Jihyo must have been hit really hard by her needs because this wasn’t a common occurrence, but he knew if he stopped or intervened here it would be a long day so he let her have her way with a gentle nod. Jihyo smiled as she yanked his shorts down along with his underwear. She marveled at his cock. The thick veiny appendage stood proud for her as it always did. She smiled before kissing it. Diabolos groaned. Jihyo smiled.

“Looks like you need this as much as I do.” She cooed before taking him into her mouth. She started slow. She ran her tongue all over his shaft as she bobbed around his rod. Jihyo’s mind began to blank as she slowly became sloppier and picked up speed. She kept bobbing as a long line of drool began to drip from her pretty lips to her chest. She knew what she was doing to Diabolos. She knew he was almost ready to fucking ruin her just one more piece was needed. She stopped sucking his cock eliciting a groan from him as she took her shirt off and started massaging her spit into her tits this lewd display served its purpose as Diabolos picked her up and laid her flat on the counter

Voljune and Jihyo breathed in deep. As they watched Diabolos’ his eyes were hungry as was his cock. As he lifted them he stuffed Jihyo’s ruined panties into her mouth. Her arousal scent hit her like a brick through a glass wall, as her snug walls let in their favorite occupant. Voljune and Jihyo moan in unison as he bottoms out in them. He thrusts slowly but Jihyo nor Voljune want it slow and easy they want him to fuck them.

“More” Jihyo moans as she feels Diabolos thrusting. Her insides begged him to be rougher. Her moans reach Diabolos' ears’ as he speeds up inside her. Jihyo moans euphoric as Diabolos picks her little body up to get better leverage as he ravages her. Jihyo and Voljune moan as he takes them.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Jihyo and Voljune moan in Jihyo’s mind together. Diabolos watches as Jihyo’s tits bounce hypnotically while he fucks Jihyo her walls are so snug that he can feel his orgasm build quicker than normal but he can’t stop. He keeps thrusting inside her Jihyo notices he’s close and takes out the panties unable to control herself she says to Diabolos, “In me.” Diabolos is brought out of his lustful haze for a moment only for Jihyo to repeat her words. Dio asks if she’s safe today

“I’m not safe babe.” She says

“Voljune has made me so wet and horny for you. Don’t you think I need no I deserve a creampie. I mean we’ve been together two years, don’t you think it’s time we start a family. So do it! Cum in me. Make me a mommy make me yours,” Diabolos loses control as he cums inside Jihyo hearing that. Her womb fills with his seed and she looks at him and smiles but she still sees his rampant lust which causes Voljune to make her even wetter for him. Jihyo moans as he continues thrusting inside of her. He sees now mixing with her viscous slick and pooling under them in a turgid and lewd sludge. Their bodies need more stimulation so Diablos continues thrusting inside of her. Jihyo moans as the sensation drives her closer to another orgasm.

“Cum please cum.” Jihyo moans as she reaches another peak. Voljune is numb inside from all the pleasure and intimacy of being with Diabolos and feeling him rearrange her guts was a euphoria she didn't know she needed. The pleasure tears through both of them as they are subjected to Voljune’s first orgasm in this body Jihyo and Voljune moan as they squelch and squirt all over Diabolos’ cock. All of this cumming on Diabolos causes him to fill Jihyo again as she moans and takes another load inside her. Diabolos overwhelmed falls back on the chair and stares at her beautiful tanned body now covered in a sexy layer of sweat. He grows hard again but is too tired to take action for now.

The rest of the day follows suit. Diabolos would recover Jihyo or Voljune would take their turn breeding him then he'd be worn out, they take a break until 2 am the next day. Where Jihyo wakes up so she can set her alarm to go to Dance practice later that night. In that quiet moment, she notices Diabolos’ scars and wonders how he got them.

The next day

Jihyo and Voljune arrive at the Twice practice studio is brightly lit, with mirrors lining the walls and a polished wooden floor ready for rehearsal. The energy is high as the group prepares for their latest routine.

Jihyo enters the studio, her gym bag slung over her shoulder. She’s wearing comfortable workout clothes, and her hair is pulled back into a neat ponytail. The other members of Twice are already stretching and chatting, filling the room with a warm and lively atmosphere.

"I see your companions are already here," Voljune observes, her voice echoing in Jihyo’s mind. "They seem quite enthusiastic."

"They always are," Jihyo replies with a smile. "We’re all really excited about this new routine."

“Jihyo!” Nayeon calls out with a smile, waving her over. “We were just talking about how you always bring the best snacks. Did you bring any today?”

Jihyo laughs and sets her bag down. “Of course! I’ve got some healthy energy bars and a few treats for later.”

"Your foresight is commendable," Voljune comments. "It seems they depend on you for sustenance as well as leadership."

"Snacks are the secret to a happy practice," Jihyo jokes internally, watching her friends dive into the bag.

As they finish their snacks, Jihyo leads the group in their warm-up routine. She moves with confidence, guiding her friends through stretches and exercises. The studio echoes with the sound of their synchronized movements and shared laughter.

"You lead with such grace," Voljune notes. "It's no wonder they follow you so willingly."

"We’re a team," Jihyo responds. "Everyone brings something special."

“Remember to focus on your breathing,” Jihyo reminds them, her voice encouraging. “We’ve got a long practice ahead, and we need all the energy we can get.”

With the warm-up complete, the music starts, and the group begins rehearsing their choreography. Jihyo is at the front, her movements precise and fluid. She radiates determination and joy, inspiring the others to give their best.

"Such artistry," Voljune remarks. "I see why you’re so passionate about this."

"Dancing is freeing," Jihyo thinks, her heart full. "It’s like nothing else matters."

“Great job, everyone!” she calls out after a particularly challenging section. “Let’s run it again from the top and see if we can make it even smoother.”

The members nod, determined to perfect the routine. Jihyo watches them with pride, offering tips and corrections where needed.

After a couple of hours, they take a break, collapsing onto the floor with sighs of relief and laughter. The room is filled with chatter as they sip water and catch their breath.

Sana nudges Jihyo and asks, “So, what’s new with you and Diabolos? Are you two planning anything fun?”

Jihyo smiles, her cheeks turning a light pink. “We’re having a rooftop dinner soon. It’s supposed to be a surprise, but I’m really excited.”

"I sense great affection when you speak of him," Voljune teases gently. "Your bond is strong."

"He’s… special," Jihyo admits, her heart fluttering at the thought.

The group erupts into playful teasing and giggles, their camaraderie evident.

As the practice winds down, Jihyo gathers the group for a final run-through. The room buzzes with focused energy, and their performance is seamless, a testament to their hard work and unity.

“Fantastic work today, everyone,” Jihyo says, clapping her hands. “We’re ready for the show, and I know we’ll be amazing.”

"You inspire them," Voljune says, a hint of admiration in her tone. "This is a rare and beautiful thing."

"We’re all in this together," Jihyo replies, feeling grateful for her team and the connection she shares with Voljune.

With that, they pack up their things, exchanging hugs and words of encouragement. Jihyo feels a sense of accomplishment and excitement for what’s to come, both with her group and her upcoming date with Diabolos.

Jihyo is walking home from the studio, the sun beginning to set, and painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. The streets are quieter now, the hustle and bustle of the day giving way to the calm of the evening.

As she walks, Jihyo feels the comforting presence of Voljune within her. The dance practice has left her energized but reflective, and she decides it's a good time to address some important matters with her new companion.

"Voljune, are you there?" Jihyo thinks, opening the mental channel between them.

"Always," Voljune replies, her voice gentle and attentive. "How are you feeling after practice?"

"Good, really good," Jihyo answers, smiling to herself. "But I've been thinking about how we’re going to make this merger work. I think it’s important to establish some boundaries and parameters, so we both feel comfortable."

Voljune’s presence shifts slightly, an indication of her attentiveness. "I agree. It’s a unique situation for both of us and understanding each other is key."

"First," Jihyo begins, "I’d like to have some privacy when it comes to my thoughts and feelings about certain things. There are moments that are just… personal, you know?"

"Of course," Voljune responds, understanding. "I’ll do my best to respect your privacy. I don’t wish to intrude more than necessary."

"Thank you," Jihyo replies, feeling a sense of relief. "And if there are times when you want to be more involved or communicate more directly, just let me know. I want to make sure you feel heard and included."

"I appreciate that," Voljune says warmly. "I’ll be mindful of when I interject. Your life is yours to live, and I’m here to support you."

As she walks, Jihyo considers the best way to share control over their shared existence. "When it comes to making decisions, especially about Diabolos and the others, let’s make sure we discuss things first. I trust your judgment, but I also need to stay true to myself."

"That’s fair," Voljune agrees. "And if there’s anything that concerns me, I’ll bring it to your attention. Our partnership should be built on mutual respect and understanding."

Jihyo nods, satisfied with their progress. "Also, if there are moments when I’m too overwhelmed or emotional, I’d appreciate it if you could help ground me. I think your perspective could really help."

Voljune’s presence feels reassuring. "I can do that. And if you find me becoming too intense or overbearing, please let me know. I’m still learning about human emotions and dynamics."

"We’ll figure it out together," Jihyo assures her, feeling a sense of partnership and camaraderie.

As they approach Jihyo’s apartment building, the conversation leaves her feeling hopeful about their future together. The city lights flicker on, casting a warm glow over the streets.

"I’m glad we talked," Jihyo thinks, a sense of gratitude in her heart.

"Me too," Voljune replies. "Thank you for trusting me, Jihyo. I’ll do my best to honor that trust."

As they approach Diabolos and Jihyo’s apartment building, the conversation leaves her feeling hopeful about their future together. The city lights flicker on, casting a warm glow over the streets.

"I’m glad we talked," Jihyo thinks, a sense of gratitude in her heart.

"Me too," Voljune replies. "Thank you for trusting me, Jihyo. I’ll do my best to honor that trust."

As Jihyo climbs the stairs to her apartment, she hesitates for a moment, considering how to bring up one last topic that’s been on her mind.

"Voljune, can we talk about something else?" she asks, a hint of embarrassment coloring her mental voice.

"Of course," Voljune responds, her curiosity piqued. "What’s on your mind?"

Jihyo takes a breath, feeling slightly awkward. "It's just… my body has been feeling super sensitive lately. It's like everything is dialed up to eleven, and it's kind of overwhelming."

Voljune’s presence shifts to one of understanding. "Ah, I see. My enhancements might be amplifying your sensory perceptions. I can adjust that for you."

"That would be great," Jihyo admits, relief evident in her tone. "I love being able to feel more connected, but it’s been a bit intense, especially during practice."

"I’ll make the changes gradually," Voljune assures her. "Let me know if you feel more comfortable."

As they continue their ascent, Jihyo notices a gradual easing of the heightened sensations, her body relaxing into a more natural state.

"Thank you," she thinks, a wave of relief washing over her. "This feels much better."

"I’m glad," Voljune responds warmly. "We’ll find the right balance together."

With their new understanding and adjustments in place, Jihyo heads inside, feeling more connected to Voljune and ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead.

As Jihyo and Voljune step into the apartment, the cozy space greets them with a familiar sense of comfort. Jihyo heads straight for the kitchen, setting down her bag and rolling up her sleeves.

"What should we make tonight?" Jihyo asks, surveying the ingredients in the fridge.

"How about something simple, like stir-fry?" Voljune suggests, her presence is a calming influence.

"Sounds perfect," Jihyo agrees, pulling out vegetables and beef (one of Diabolos’ favorites). As she begins chopping, a thought crosses her mind.

"Voljune, I've been wondering about Diabolos’s scars," Jihyo begins, her voice tentative. "They seem so… deliberate. Do you know how he got them?"

Voljune hesitates for a moment before responding. *"They’re from a process called 'the Severing.' It’s something my sibling, Narset, would do when moving to a new host. It’s meant to disconnect the host’s essence, and body by having Narset absorb the entire host. she does it because she never wants to face a face she's worn before. It is considered highly taboo in our culture

Jihyo pauses, her hand stilling over the cutting board. "But it didn’t kill Diabolos?"

"No," Voljune replies, a note of confusion in her tone. "That’s what’s strange. The Severing should have ended him, yet he survived. He is changed though. He was angirer after the severing, but he seems to have as you humans put it “mellowed out” I am glad you helped him there "

Jihyo pauses her chopping, “Diabolos angry. He was and is one of the kindest people I know.”

“I see that, but it's still strange his shift in both cases,” Voljune responds

As Jihyo resumes chopping, she ponders this revelation. "Do you have any idea why he might have survived?"

"I’ve thought about it," Voljune admits. "Diabolos has always been unique. His willpower, his drive… they’re extraordinary. It’s possible his essence was too strong for the Severing to fully take hold."

Jihyo considers this, her mind turning over the possibilities. "Maybe it’s more than just his willpower," she muses. "Maybe there’s something about him that we don’t fully understand yet."

"It’s possible," Voljune agrees. "There’s much we don’t know about his past or what truly drives him."

As they cook together, the rhythmic chopping and sizzling filling the kitchen, Jihyo reflects on Diabolos’s resilience. It adds another layer to the man she loves, deepening her appreciation for his strength.

*"Maybe we should just ask him.” Jihyo muses for a bit

Voljune stops their body with a jolt, “I don't think that's a good idea the last time I did that he went on a revenge-fueled rampage against Narset only to disappear for multiple years.” Jihyo laughed as their memories sorted themselves and the timeline began to make sense “While the violence and rage he displayed in Voljune’s memory was still concerning all the positive memories of him overridden her discomfort.

“Hey Voljune so how does this severing work and why is it so bad?”

“Well it's simple it's the process of my species overriding the host’s body to consume them to make my species stronger. Typically this is done as a way for one of my species to free themselves from a particularly nasty host but Narset used it as a show of dominance over her host and our people. I can't imagine the pain Diabols went through as his body was turned into a feeding ground for my sibling. It is the highest violation of our symbiosis accords.”

Jihyo nodded before asking, “Diabolos survived that?”

“Yes but as you have seen it wasn't a completely painless survival.”

“Whatever the reason,"* Jihyo thinks, "I’m grateful he survived. I can’t imagine my life without him."

"And now, you’re both stronger together," Voljune adds, her tone warm.

The door opens as Jihyo and Voljune finish cooking to a very relaxed Diabolos entering. Jihyo smiled seeing him.

“Hey Dio how was your day?” she asked with a happy smile.

Diabolos brightened and said, “Oh it was the best they asked to do photos for the zoo and I got to take pictures of the cutest panda.” Diabolos said as he showed Jihyo Voljune took over for a brief moment and said,

“It's good to see that you found other uses for your recon skills.” Diabolos looked into jihyo's eyes and through her eyes Voljune got to see a glimpse of the “Dio” that came home to Jihyo every day

“Are you jealous Jihyo?” asked internally. Voljune felt A little bit more of her consciousness merge with Jihyo's lessening the boundaries between them. She couldn't describe what she felt besides happy. She smiled at Diabolos but then pouted as she remembered and in a spontaneous instance of them being fully synched and their memories fully merged they asked

“Babe, why did you leave? I missed you. You left me all alone. What happened?”

Diabolos was taken aback as he watched this surreal experience of Jihyo+. Seeing the hurt in her eyes his heart softened towards both girls.

He sighed and said, “I wasn't really in a great place emotionally or in any way really. I had just been severed after Narset ripped Gira out of me and severed me leaving major parts of my psyche/personality and overall sense of self were gone besides anger. Anger that was fueled by hatred of Narset. Enough Hatred to reduce a planet to ash.”

That explanation startled both girls but they let him sit in his silent turmoil as he fought with his past.

They watched as he got up and went to the shower. Curious they approached the door and heard silent sobs in the bathroom.

Jihyo asks Vlojune if he will be okay,

Voljune hesitates “I'm not sure. As long as I've known him he's struggled with escalating things too far, and the isolation it causes. He lives life at maximum everything and it's vibrant it's beautiful but it's intense. He can't turn off that thing that pushes him. That thing that drives him. It's made him do some truly amazing things and some truly awful things. You and I share that trait with him but whatever it is it consumes him and keeps him awake at night. What haunts his nightmares is just how much he likes giving in to that thing inside him. When we talked earlier about his survival I wasn't surprised he survived he very nearly expunged my brother from himself at numerous junctures out of sheer will. What surprised me about it was what he did after.”

Jihyo listened and then asked, “What came after?”

“That is a story for another time,” Voljune said as the two set him a plate.

A few nights later Jihyo takes Diabolos for his surprise birthday date.

The rooftop garden is bathed in the soft glow of evening lights. The table is elegantly set with a variety of Diabolos’s favorite dishes. The city skyline provides a breathtaking backdrop, with twinkling lights mirroring the stars above. Soft jazz plays in the background, adding to the ambiance.

Diabolos arrives early, his nerves evident as he adjusts the table settings and glances at the sky, anticipating Jihyo and Voljune’s arrival. He fidgets with his cufflinks and checks his reflection, trying to look his best.

Jihyo and Voljune arrive, Jihyo is dressed in a flowing, elegant dress that compliments the evening’s mood and her delectable curves. Voljune and her agreed that tonight they were going to spend the whole night setting Diabolos’ heart ablaze. Her eyes shine with excitement as she spots Diabolos. She gives him a warm hug and a quick, affectionate kiss, while Voljune’s presence subtly enhances her confidence. Diabolos’s cheeks flush with a mix of surprise and pleasure.

As they sit down, Jihyo serves Diabolos his favorite dish with a teasing smile. “I hope you’re hungry, Dio. I made sure to get everything just the way you like it,” she says, her voice playful. Diabolos smiles grateful for Jihyo. The last few days had really been weighing on him and whenever that happened violent intrusive thoughts began to pile in his skull.

Voljune chimes in through Jihyo, “And don’t think we forgot about your tendency to hoard the last sweet. You might have to share this time.”

Diabolos laughs, visibly flustered. “I’ll try to be on my best behavior,” he replies, playfully rolling his eyes.

During the meal, Jihyo and Voljune decide to play a game of truth or dare. Jihyo starts, “Okay, Diabolos, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Diabolos replies, bracing himself.

“What’s one thing about yourself you’ve never told anyone?” Jihyo asks, leaning closer, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Diabolos hesitates, then admits, “I used to have a secret hobby of painting landscapes. It was a way to escape everything else.”

Voljune, through Jihyo, whispers in Diabolos’s ear, “Dare him to sing one of his favorite songs.”

Jihyo grins mischievously and says, “Alright, now for a dare. Sing us a verse from your favorite song.”

Diabolos chuckles, his face reddening, but he obliges before belting out the first of “What Was All About” by Sum 41, causing Jihyo and Voljune to laugh and cheer him on.

Jihyo’s smiled “You're quite the singer have you ever thought about being a trainee?” she asked teasingly. Diabolos shook his head exacerbated before saying an emphatic no.

As the night progresses, Jihyo and Voljune use their combined knowledge to touch on personal topics. Jihyo softly says, “I remember you mentioned how hard it was to balance your career and personal life. How do you manage it now?”

Diabolos smiled and said, “It's simple one step at a time, plus I have the best girlfriend in the whole universe, and yes I'm not being hyperbolic.

Voljune adds through Jihyo, “And what about those quiet moments you cherish the most? We want to hear about them.”

Diabolos smiles and holds Jihyo’s hand. She and Voljune jump at the gentle strength behind his grip.

“I will never forget the time you waltzed into that in-n-out with Sana and the rest of the girls and you sat right across from me with this big toothy grin.”

Jihyo laughs as she's genuinely touched by the gesture.

Diabolos looks touched by their interest and shares stories of his struggles and triumphs. He appreciates how they blend their knowledge to create a more profound connection.

During a lull in conversation, Jihyo gently brushes a strand of hair from Diabolos’s face, her fingers lingering. Voljune’s influence makes the touch more intimate, and Diabolos shivers slightly, his breath catching.

Voljune subtly guides Jihyo’s hand to rest on Diabolos’s arm, enjoying the way he responds to the contact. “You look so handsome tonight,” Jihyo murmurs, her voice infused with affection. Diabolos smiles and then says, “You know yo-yo you look absolutely stunning tonight as well.” Jihyo smiles as she gets up to kiss his cheek.

As the music changes to a slow, romantic tune, Jihyo stands and extends her hand to Diabolos. “May I have this dance?” she asks with a playful smile.

Diabolos takes her hand, and they move to the center of the rooftop. Voljune’s presence adds a radiant quality to Jihyo’s graceful movements, making the dance fluid mesmerizing, and glowing literally. Diabolos is drawn into the rhythm, his initial awkwardness melting away as he holds Jihyo close.

After dancing, they find a cozy spot on a plush blanket, lying back to gaze at the stars. Jihyo snuggles against Diabolos, her head resting on his shoulder, while Voljune enjoys the peaceful moment. They share their dreams and fears, their voices blending in a harmonious conversation.

As the evening winds down, Jihyo and Voljune share a tender kiss with Diabolos, their affection evident. Diabolos wraps his arms around them both, feeling the warmth and connection they share.

Jihyo whispers, “We’ll face whatever comes next together.”

Diabolos nods, his heart full of gratitude and love. “Together,” he replies.

They sit quietly for a moment, the stars their only witness, knowing that whatever challenges lie ahead, they will face them together.

[kislnd]

jumper - arthurtv~

synopsis: a simple gesture from arthur has the chance to turn his and y/n's relationship into something much greater. notes: literally procrastinated everything else so hard by writing this but it's fine i ❤️ mr television warnings: none word count: 1.9k

masterlist

ping. y/n's eyes flickered to the notification that had just come down. having just come home from a shift that had felt a year long, she wasn't sure if she was in the mood for social interaction but, after mentally preparing to make some kind of lame excuse to whoever it was, she clicked on it.

"getting together at mine, you should come." it read. it was from chris, one of y/n's long time friends - they had worked together for a few years before y/n decided it was time for her to make a career change. seeing it was from him lifted her mood slightly, she knew she would be in for a good time, especially assuming the other boys would be there. they were all both equally stupid and entertaining and despite how drained she felt, she thought this might be the pick me up she needed. she typed out a quick reply, despite hardly being able to keep her eyes open from tiredness and changed into different clothes, at this point she wasn't bothered what, anything would be preferable to her work clothes. luckily for her, chris didn't live far, it was easily a few minutes walk that she was grateful for. maybe the cold evening air will wake me up a little, she thought.

//

y/n approaches the front door and raises her arm to knock, but before her knuckle could make contact with the door, it swung open to reveal chris. "took you ten minutes exactly," he grins, referencing the text she had sent him in reply. "i am a woman of my word." she smiles and steps into the house, a flood of warmth rushing over her body. shouts could be heard from the living room, but this wasn't to y/n's surprise. "football?" she raises her eyebrow in the direction of chris, "yeah, it's an important match today." y/n didn't have the faintest idea who was playing, if it was a final or some other major tournament that would go down in football history. "i'd suggest some paracetamol for your head if you plan on staying for more than a couple of hours," he jokes, waiting for y/n to slip her shoes off before making their way into the living room.

like any time there was a match on, the boys were crunched up together on the sofa, staring intently at the tv. y/n wasn't even sure if they were aware chris had left and come back with an extra person. "hello to you all too," y/n giggles at their complete focus on the game. at this everyone turned towards her at the same time and greeted her, but of course, they were all talking over each other so it just came out like a garbled mess of noise. "that was a bit freaky," she laughs, "did you rehearse that turn?"

"there isn't a single reality where i could get them to cooperate with me like that," george grins up at y/n from the couch, "so no, definitely not." she notices arthur roll his eyes playfully at george's remark and smiles herself. "you know, y/n has really poor knowledge of football-" chris quips, sitting himself down on the couch, but is interrupted by y/n defending herself, "that was slightly unwarranted, was it not?" she quirks her eyebrow at him. "am i wrong?" he laughs, "i mean, you don't even know what is happening today, do you?"

"god forbid i don't memorise the league table or what friendlies are happening," y/n throws her arms up jokingly in defense. "maybe she should watch and learn then?" arthur sighs in exasperation and tries his best to shuffle over on the couch to make space for y/n but naturally, there was no moving the others. the room did have more seating but this particular sofa had the best view of the television hence why everyone was piled there. "be realistic arthur." george glances at him and smiles at his attempts to shove everyone, "we can't all fit on here."

"maybe if you could try to move over even slightly?" y/n moves closer to them and tries to shuffle her hips into the small gap arthur managed to create, but with no avail. she was half on the sliver of couch and half on top of arthur's leg. "oh, sorry," she gets up quickly and smiles at him before shooting chris a pleading look, "can you stop taking the piss now so i don't have to crush poor arthur?" without saying anything, arthur, arthur, george and chris moved closer to each other, making sure there was adequate space for y/n to fit into.

she sunk down into the couch, grateful that the others had obliged - it was by far the most comfortable piece of furniture in the flat. with half time of the match over, the others were fixated on the television once again. y/n felt her eyelids grow heavy and was far too tired to fight sleep once again, so she laid back and shut her eyes for a moment to recharge.

//

"shut the fuck up!" the familiar voice hisses at the others, "y/n is literally sleeping,"

"not anymore," she mumbles, not even bothering to open her eyes. "now look what you've done, you've woken her up," the voice, that y/n could now tell was arthur, scolded the others. "yeah, i can see that now thanks," george replies, "sorry y/n," he adds. by now y/n was awake fully and aware of the goings-on, to be honest she felt like she needed to be woken up anyway so it didn't bother her.

suddenly, a rush of cold air hit her, goosebumps forming on her arms. she couldn't tell if it was actually freezing in the room or if since she had just woken up, everything felt extra cold. "is it cold in here or is it me?" y/n asks the others, who were just on their phones or engaged in meaningless conversation. "i'm alright." chris shrugs and the others agree, "yeah it's a good temperature in here."

y/n huddles on the sofa for a couple of minutes, thinking of something she could use to warm herself up especially since the heating was already definitely on. she couldn't see any blankets in the living room but she didn't want to go searching around the house, because that would be rude. luckily, chris noticed her shivering, "hey, if you want you can grab one of my jumpers from upstairs," he tells her. before y/n even had a chance to reply, arthur interjects.

"you can have mine," he says, matter-of-factly but then grimaces slightly. "i mean to save your legs," he pauses, trying to figure out how to downplay such a forward gesture, "it would be so annoying to try and fit you back onto the sofa, because we would definitely take up your space," george and chris mock offended looks, and y/n giggles. arthur felt his face turn slightly red but the room was only illuminated by the soft glow of the television so, much to his relief the others couldn't tell.

"oh okay, sure," she smiles, looking up at arthur, who didn't reply and simply pulled the jumper over his head and let it flop down onto y/n's lap. "thanks," she grins, eagerly pulling it over her own head. "no problem." arthur smiles back, pleased he had worn a t-shirt under it this time. it was perfectly oversized and so warm from arthur's body that y/n almost felt herself falling asleep all over again.

"comfy there?" george jokes, looking up from his phone to see y/n's shape nestled in the corner of the couch with her arms folded over her chest. "very much so, no thanks to you," she says cheekily, "i could sleep again."

"you can rest on me if you want," arthur says, only glancing at her for a split second and with less urgency than last time. "thanks," y/n says, resting her head on his shoulder.

//

"huh?" y/n's eyes flicker open, "what time is it?" she asks the room, hoping someone will reply. "it's about to turn midnight," chris says, having a quick look at his lock screen. "oh no," she groans, "i was hoping to get back home earlier," she sighs, every task she needed to do flooding back into her memory. "i've got to get going," she says, standing up from the couch. "i'm coming with," arthur says sternly.

"what? why?" y/n couldn't hide the fact she was slightly taken aback by his determined tone.

"you really think i'd let you walk alone in the dark?" he pulls a confused expression.

"no, seriously, i'll be fine, don't bother yourself" she protests, he had already let her borrow his jumper and she didn't want to inconvenience him further. "i'm coming with you and that's final," he folds his arms, and then stands up from the sofa as well, "it's not safe." y/n sighs, he was clearly set on coming and she couldn't particularly be bothered to argue with him, "if you're sure." she shrugs.

they said their goodbyes to the others, who were already home, and set out into the night. the sky was actually clear for london, the moon and stars were perfectly visible and casting a gentle glow across it.

soon after, they arrived at y/n's front door, "thanks for walking back with me," she feels her face heating up slightly at his gesture. quickly, she turned towards the door and slid the key into the lock. he won't have noticed, it's dark anyway. she affirms in her mind. "any time," he smiles back, "oh, and, aren't you forgetting something?" he smirks. "oh god yeah," she starts to pull the jumper off over her head. "woah, woah, i was joking, it looks better on you anyway," arthur wiggles his eyebrows jokingly, but reaches out to pull the jumper back down properly over her.

"arthur, i can't just keep it," y/n's eyes widen, "aren't you cold right now? i don't want you to be ill." she was genuinely worried, sure, it was hardly a winter night but it wasn't mild either. "no no, don't worry," he gives her a warm smile, "it's quite nice out here." y/n wasn't convinced and she knew he would only continue to insist he was fine but nevertheless she felt it was right to ask again, "are you sure? like are you sure you're sure?" she giggles.

"yes," he smirks, "and i'll be back to collect it if that's a worry," y/n's mouth falls open in shock at his sudden surge of confidence, "is that right?" she raises her eyebrow at him. "if you'll have me," he laughs, "maybe even as soon as tomorrow night?"

"wow very smooth arthur," y/n laughs, she was beginning to question if any of this was really happening, was she about to accept a date with her best friend's best friend? yes, yes she was. she couldn't deny she had always thought he was really handsome, this was not an opportunity she could pass up, "you have my number." arthur smiles widely, eyes gleaming from excitement, "that's right. i will follow up with more details then," y/n giggles and nods, "see you tomorrow then arthur."

"goodnight y/n." he grins and turns to walk down the path, she waits for him to be out of sight before letting herself in. tomorrow couldn't come any faster.

[scoonsalicious]

10.3 Lily

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Lies, Machinations.

Word Count: 1.5k

Previously On...: Bucky found the envelope you were sent. And he did not take it well. He went running to Lily.

A/N: I have a job interview this afternoon! Wish me luck (although, by the time this posts, it will be over with already, but, you know, good vibes!)!!

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Lily couldn’t believe her luck. When she had arranged to have that envelope sent to The WarZone, she expected Major to freak out, to be frightened and disturbed, maybe even disgusted, by everything Bucky had done in his past and decide to stop seeing him. 

But for Bucky to think that Major was running background on him without his knowledge, and for him to run out on her? Lily couldn’t have planned it better. And he’d come to Lily for comfort. Everything was going perfectly. She was even willing to eat this disgusting pineapple on her pizza, she was in such a good mood.

Currently, Bucky was sitting on the floor, back leaning against her couch while she massaged his scalp, the television playing some mind numbing comedy in the background.

“I don’t get it, Lil,” he said with a groan. “If she had questions, she could have just asked me. I would have told her anything she wanted to know.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, wishing he would move on to a different topic, any topic, other than that harlot. “I did tell you she was a bitch, Jamie.”

Bucky leaned his head back. “But why would she do it?” he asked her with a sigh. “She made such a big deal about saying I didn’t have to tell her anything until I was ready. So, why would she go digging?”

Lily scratched at his scalp, trying not to let her annoyance come through her ministrations. “She obviously lied to you, Jamie. Apparently, your past mattered more to her than she claimed. I hate to say this,” she said, struck with a jolt of inspiration, “but maybe she’s attracted to that kind of thing. Some people are sick, Jamie and, well, it wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.”

She eyed him, hoping the memory would hit the way she had intended it to. She had been particularly proud of orchestrating that breakup. Bucky had been devastated, of course– but when he had confided to Lily that he had been planning on asking Jessica, his girlfriend at the time, to move into his room at the Compound with him, she had to take action. What else was Lily supposed to do, honestly?

So, she'd fabricated search histories on Bucky's laptop for all kinds messed up Winter Soldier porn while Bucky was away on a mission; the nastier, the better; and then conveniently "discovered" the history after asking Bucky to borrow his computer. Since Jessica had, "technically," been the only other person, aside from Bucky, with access to the device, convincing him that she had been the one to search for it all hadn't been difficult. Despite Jessica's pleas that she'd done no such thing, it was hard refuting the evidence Lily had manufactured, especially since Bucky was so technologically illiterate and never thought to check for dates and times of the searches, and Jessica had been out of their lives by dinnertime. Lily would be eternally grateful to Rule 34.

“Is this how it’s going to be from now on?” Bucky asked her remorsefully. “Girls are either going to be terrified of the Winter Soldier, or weirdly turned on by him? There’s no in between where they just see 'Bucky'?”

Lily rolled her eyes. Was he always this fucking dramatic? “Jamie, you’ve barely been dating her. Be thankful you found out about her now, before you got in too deep.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “It could have been a lot worse. At least now, you know the truth about her, and you can move on.”

“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Bucky lamented. “I’m a fucking monster. How can I expect any good woman to fall in love with me, after all the shit I’ve done?” 

“Maybe,” she began, playing with the chain of his dog tags and hoping to get him off his pity train, “the problem is that you’re too caught up with girls who don’t really know you. Maybe you’d be better off with someone you already have a solid foundation with, you know?” Lily gently tugged his tags out from underneath his collar and began running her fingers across the metal, as she’d done hundreds of times before. It always made her feel connected to him, grounded.

Except, this time, they felt… wrong, somehow. The metal engraving where his name should be felt foreign, not the embossing she was so intimately familiar with. She felt her stomach plummet. 

“What’s with your tags?” she asked, not even giving him an opportunity to respond to her previous statement. “They don’t feel right.”

Bucky pulled away from her, reaching up to gently take the tags from between her fingers into his own. 

“These are Major’s,” he said softly as he ran his thumb across the engraving, looking at the tags almost longingly. 

“Why–” Lily fought for composure, “why do you have her tags?” she asked him. “Where are yours?”

“We traded,” Bucky confessed to her. “Fuck, now I’m going to have to figure out how to get mine back.”

“You gave her your tags.” Lily did her best to cover her disgust and disbelief by making it a statement, not a question. In all their years of friendship, she’d never, not once, known him to ever take those tags off, let alone allow someone else to wear them– and lord knows she’d tried to get him to let her. Bucky nodded.

“You just let some random slut wear your tags, Jamie?” There was no hiding the distress in her voice now as she stood up from the couch, the action so abrupt that it knocked Bucky forward on the floor. 

“You barely know her! That’s so… so… ugh, that’s so gross!” 

“Why are you so upset about it?” he asked her, standing up and looking at her with a curious expression. “They’re my tags, but you’re freaking out about them worse than I am.” 

Shit. Cover, cover, cover.

“Well,” Lily hemmed, “because, obviously, she’s awful. I mean, she did all that shady recon on you. I gotta say, I think you should probably be thankful for whoever sent her that envelope. They did you a favor in showing you her true self, right?”

Bucky froze, his expression staring off into the middle distance as if he’d just realized something of vital importance. “Shit,” he whispered.

“What?”

He made a beeline for the kitchen, picking up his discarded leather jacket and shrugging it back on. “I fucked up, Lil. I fucked up, big time.”

“Where are you going?” she asked as he made his way back toward the front door, and she could hear the desperation in her own voice. “Jamie, we’re having such a good night.”

Bucky paused to turn to her, his hand on the doorknob. “She was upset when she got that envelope, Lil. I was so taken by surprise when I saw the contents of it, I completely forgot about her reaction when she first recieved it. She didn’t even know where it had come from. There’s no way she was doing background research on me.”

Lily could feel all her opportunities slipping between her fingers like fallen sand. “Maybe she was lying to you. Covering her tracks so you wouldn't suspect,” she said, knowing the excuse was flimsy, but not being able to come up with anything else in the moment.

"But she didn't know I would even still be there," Bucky protested as he opened the door. "I got held up having a conversation with Nat. Major was surprised to see me still in the building. There's no way she made that bit up for my benefit."

“I don’t see how that changes her motives in the least. Maybe she saw you still there and came up with the lie on the spot.”

“Because that’s not who she is!” Bucky practically shouted, taking Lily aback with his tone. “You said she did me the favor of showing me her true self, and that’s just the thing– I don’t believe that’s who Major truly is. If, and that’s a big ‘if,’ she did look up information about my past, she probably had a damned good reason, and I–fuck– I never even gave her the chance to explain! I just stormed out of there like a fucking toddler! I have to go make this right while I still have a chance. I’ll let you know how it goes!”

And with that, he was out the door, running, once again, back to her, and leaving Lily all alone, and heartbroken. How could things have gone from so spectacularly wonderful to so awful, in such a short span of time?

More importantly, if, for some reason, Major did decide to forgive Bucky, what was Lily’s next step going to be to break them up for good?

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[cameronspecial]

Loving the Zach stuff so far!!!

Could you maybe do something where yn hates his guts, but he is like in love with her and all her sass?? Then they're forced to go on some school trip together or something, and she realizes she likes him and a cute angry love confession, perhaps???

Danke 🫶🏼💐

Thank You, History Class

Pairing: Zach MacLaren x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.2K

Masterlist

Y/N and Zach have been running in the same friend group since Freshman year, but it doesn’t mean they necessarily get along. Well, it doesn’t mean that she likes him. His sarcasm and puppy dog vibe annoys her cool and distant personality. He’s always asking her how her day is going and trying to make her laugh with his stupid jokes. Zach, on the other hand, fell for her grumpy soul the moment he set eyes on her. Unlike most people, who don’t bother looking deeper into her personality, Zach could see the soft side that she held within and never let anyone see. He would always catch how she would stand up from her bus seat when she saw an elderly person. She wouldn’t let people around her know it was the reason, but she always did. He saw the little bowl of milk she left outside her house for a cat mother and her kittens. Finally, he saw how sweet she was to children whenever they were around her. 

Zach didn’t want to take a history class and he certainly didn’t feel like going on a field trip to a museum. It all felt very high school to him. The only upside about it: Y/N is also taking the same class. When he saw that he needed a history credit to graduate, he definitely didn’t go looking for what classes she was taking this semester to try and be in the same one. The cost was giving Jason access to his bathroom whenever he wanted, but it was worth it. He knows the field trip isn’t mandatory for any marks, yet he knows Y/N is going to be there. As he heads toward the Victorian house, he finds Y/N out front waiting for the professor to show up. Her clothing consists of black and brown colours as usual. Her hair was held back by a shiny black claw clip. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” he grins, coming to stand beside her. She gives him a side eye, “Could you be more cliche? Try something more original, would ya? I still can’t believe you are taking this class.” He doesn’t let her sour mood dampen his energy. “Come on, you know you like having me with you in this class. The only other people in this class are girls who have a romanticized view of the era, or guys, who have a history stick so far up their ass that they think a history degree will take them far in life,” he notes, turning to look at her. She looks him dead in the eyes, “I’m a history major. And I am neither of those things.” “I know, that’s because you are so much better than them. You are far too smart for them,” he flatters. She shakes her head, turning her attention to the professor who has just arrived, “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” The professor leads them into the museum and begins his lecture. After ten minutes of listening to the man speak, both Y/N and Zach realized that coming was a big waste of time. He doesn’t know what he is talking about and Zach can hear Y/N constantly correcting the older man under her breath. 

He leans toward her, making sure his lips are close to her ear. “Wanna go on our own little tour? This man is getting half of this stuff wrong.” She thinks she has lost her mind because this must be the first thing Zach has said that she thought was a good idea. “That actually sounds kind of fun. They have a Victorian fashion exhibit I want to see, but I don’t think Professor Robo over there is going to take us to,” she whispers back. Her hand finds his and she hates to admit she likes the warmth of his in hers. They round the stairs to the exhibit. She looks delighted when she spots the first mannequin with clothes. Her feet find their way beside a girl about six years old, already looking at the dress. The child’s eyes find Y/N’s face and they smile at each other. “You know, this is an 1843 Evening dress. The bodice, the thing around the chest, is low off the shoulders. And they have lots of other skirts underneath to make it poofy,” Y/N softly explains to the little girl. 

They spent around thirty minutes in the small room. Y/N walks around with Willow and Zach, explaining each outfit to them. She is surprised that Zach seemed honestly engaged with what she was saying and would ask thoughtful questions. Eventually, Willow’s mother, an employee, came looking for her and took the girl to lunch. “Do you want to head to lunch?” she asks. He shakes his head, “Actually, I was hoping we could look at the Victorian sports exhibit. I brought some snacks, so if you are hungry, we can share.” He pulls out a bag of cucumbers shaped like hearts. She has to giggle at the sight because big jock Zach MacLaren likes to have his vegetable cut into shapes. 

“What?” he questions in fake offence, holding out the Ziploc to her. She shakes her head with a chuckle, “Nothing, just surprised your cucumbers look like an inaccurate depiction of a human organ.” “They make them taste better. Try,” he says with a shrug. He hands her a slice and listens to the sweet crunch of her biting into the vegetable. “Okay… I must admit it is more fun to eat it like a heart. I can pretend I’m a witch eating people’s hearts,” she agrees. He doesn’t look disturbed by her macabre comments, instead, he pretends to be ripping out his heart as he hands her another slice. She enjoys him playing with her deadly thoughts.

They spent about an hour looking at the different displays, eating his snacks and taking turns reading the display’s blurbs to each other. As they stand on the steps of the museum, Y/N towers over him from the step above. He looks up at her like she hangs the stars in the sky. “I hate to admit that you made this day pretty fun,” she confides. Her hands find their way behind her back, biting her lip as she looks into his eyes. His mouth turns into a crescent moon, “I’m really glad I did. I like spending time with you.” She takes a moment to think and moves her head away in frustration. Not at him, but at the turmoil inside her mind. Why is his charming smile suddenly getting to her? Why does she want to step into his warmth and let his arms bring her in? “Ugh, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I’m falling for you, MacLaren. So… would you want to go to dinner? Like on a date,” she confesses with a hint of annoyance in her tone that is just normally there. She is disgusted by the excitement that crosses his face. He gets off the steps, running around the green grass in front of the building. He jumps every so often with a little whoop let out as he does so. 

He rushes back to her, grabbing her around her waist and spinning her around. She finds the sound of her giggles odd but enjoys it nonetheless. “Way to keep a poker face,” she sasses, looking down at him. He doesn’t care though all he wants is a chance to be with her.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

[multifandomfix]

Rhaenys Targaryen Smut Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Flushed but flirty, doesn’t mind a bit of pillow talk after. She’ll have a bath made ready for you if you want one.

B = Body part (favorite body part of their partner’s)

Your thighs. She loves to spread them open nice and slow.

C = Collar (do they mark you as theirs in some way?)

It’s by no means a requirement, but if you wanted to wear something that showed others that you belonged to her, she wouldn’t be opposed to such an idea.

D = Dominant (who is in control? are they a top or bottom?)

Whether top or bottom Rhaenys is always the one in control.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

She knows what she’s doing. While she likes to keep a little mystery to her past experience, it’s easy to tell she’s had some history with the way she so easily adapts to what you like.

F = Fuck (do they prefer to fuck or make love?)

Either or, really. She’s perfectly content making love, but if you want to get a little rougher, she can work with that as well.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

She’s often more serious, but catch her off guard and a little bit of playfulness might seep through that stoic exterior.

H = Hot (what turns them on, gets them going)

Fealty. While she’s long ago given up the idea that she may be Queen, the thought of such devotion and service from you does still get her going.

I = Insatiable (how do they act when they’re desperate to have you?)

Barring anything of major importance for her to tend to, she will just drop everything, tell you she wants you and then just fucking have you (if you’re agreeable, of course).

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Though she doesn’t indulge as often as she once did, she finds no shame in a bit of self pleasure, and she loves it if you get turned on while watching her.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

It’s not a big thing for her, but she can be into some light impact play, with you on the receiving end. Praise and punishment in general tends to do it for her, as long as it doesn’t get too out of hand.

L = Location (favorite places to have sex)

Anywhere she feels remarkably sure she can get away with it. She does tend to prefer the assured privacy of her own quarters, but she can make do elsewhere should the mood strike.

M = Mood (what’s the foreplay like? how do you get them in the mood?)

Though she doesn’t consider herself to be a vain woman, the way you tell her how beautiful she is as you trail kisses down her body never fails to warm her up and get her wet.

N = Naked (how do they undress? do they like to watch you undress?)

She likes you to help her undress and she does like to watch you as well. Bonus points if you’re shy, but willing to do it since it’s for her. Words of encouragement and praise will surely be heaped upon you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

She actually prefers to give, and she’s really quite gifted at it. She has this one trick with her tongue that you can’t ever quite figure out how she pulls off, but it always blows your mind.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It’s a mixed bag. She’ll change up the pace on you just to keep you on the edge a bit longer. It’s wicked, but she loves it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

She’s fine with them, even likes them on occasion, but it’s not her preference.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

She’ll definitely experiment and risk is fine with her to an extent as well. If there’s something you’re dying to try, bring it up and she’ll usually go for it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Sometimes just one, but two or three rounds are not unheard of with her.

T = Tryst (are they into casual sex or one night stands?)

Not so much. She has done in the past, but they aren’t something she seeks out.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

She loves to tease. Wouldn’t be a complete experience without it as far as she’s concerned. And she does love to hear you beg.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

She’s not extremely loud, unless you want her to be. But she’s certainly not silent, either. She’ll let out long moans or repeat your name on her lips until you’ve made her come.

W = Wait (how long do they wait before having sex with their partner for the first time?)

As long as she deems necessary. She’s not going to jump into bed with you if you’re not ready, but she’s not going to hold off if you are.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Rhaenys is a beautiful woman who takes great care of her body. You even like to tease her that she’s no mere princess but a goddess.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Moderate to high, depending. She enjoys sex, but it’s not an innate need for her like it seems to be for some.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Generally she likes to stay awake with you and cuddle or talk for a bit. She’s not a fan of just turning over and going right to sleep afterwards.

For @yellowbird-flying

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-izzy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @nclgsticore, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @malfoyfeed, @aliciabrower, @bitchr-mkay, @sparrowspixie, @imaginationismyworldlypleasure, @og-kxsh-420

Rhaenys Targaryen: @thekirbishow, @astrogrande

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

politely humbly asking if is it time for nick valentine headcanons? :)))

It sure is! I absolutely adore Nick, and while I definitely understand the "peepaw" thing people seem to prescribe to him (he does certainly ooze Old Man Vibes), I think the fact that he's also incredibly sexy is sometimes overlooked. Very unfortunate about the whole "cop" thing, but hey, my guy wants for the good of society and he's a menace when I need him to be, so he's husband material to me!

Nick Valentine (FO4) Headcanons

SFW

Physiologically, he gets absolutely nothing from smoking cigarettes, but human Nick Valentine was a 1-2 pack per day smoker back in the day. Granted, only about 20% of those cigarettes are smoked from beginning to end; both then and now, they're moreso the noir version of a fidget toy, something to occupy his hands or fret away at between his teeth as it slowly smoulders away to nothing. Without access to his cigarettes, Nick doesn't necessarily get grouchy, but he does get noticeably more antsy, clearly a little uneasy and unsure what to do with his hands. Still digs into his pockets every five minutes unconsciously.

Doesn't sleep, but keeps a shaky-framed old bed in the agency's office and actually uses it. Sometimes he likes to crawl into it and lie down with his eyes closed for a while, using the quiet time to ponder things, go over evidence, study connections in his mind. He feels a bit embarrassed by it when you ask him if he ever uses the old thing, but the act is nostalgic, even a comfort on an especially bad day.

That old duster he wears means a lot to him, and helping him repair it (or even replace it if something really terrible happens to it) will earn you major points with him. Checking up on him, in general, showing concern for him and his wellbeing will do so. He isn't used to someone caring for him so much, treating him like a regular man from the jump.

Art and art history enjoyer, as well as a good opera recording from time to time. Any time he comes across any kind of art museum or a place that would have once sold or stocked holotapes, he has a look around. Usually he turns up nothing, sometimes he ends up with new holes in him, but every once in a while he sees something, scrounges something up or sees a fairly intact piece of art that reignites feelings in him that he can't quite describe.

NSFW

Nick is a patient, almost overly generous lover. In fact, you'll be hard-pressed to even get him to allow you to touch him in turn early on in your intimate relationship. He's slick about it, using the weaknesses he's discovered against you to keep pushing you to the edge over and over again until you're too exhausted to even coherently think about reciprocating. It's nothing to do with you and everything to do with the daily struggle he fights against his own self image, his own existential thoughts. He also still regularly struggles with mourning Jenny, even though she was never really his to begin with, and he knows that. Unfortunately, that knowledge doesn't stop him from hurting, and it makes it difficult for him to be vulnerable in situations like that.

You can't hide anything from the man; if you have any kinks or interests that you're sitting on for whatever reason, he will sniff them out. Doesn't matter if you find it embarrassing; whatever it is, he'll get it out of you eventually if he notices signs that you like something. It's not like you can stop your face from flushing, your heart from racing, or your panties from dampening.

The seams between the panels that make up his body are very sensitive, and once he feels comfortable enough with you that he'll open up his shirt, it will drive him absolutely crazy if you run your fingers (or tongue) very gently along them.

Practice caution, though; you can easily hurt yourself sticking your hands and fingers and other appendages into certain crevices or panels in his body, and your experimentation can quickly turn painful, ruining the mood. He hates to see you in hurting and it makes him acutely, agonizingly aware of just how inhuman his body really is. Puts quite the damper on his spirits, unfortunately.

He doesn't cum, at least not traditionally, but if you get him (literally) hot and bothered enough he can have a sort of overheating-induced power cycling that's pretty much the closest thing he has. He enjoys it, but he'll only let you get him that far if he's in one of a handful of positions, because he often goes completely lax when it happens, and his body is heavy enough to hurt you if he just falls on you.

Surprisingly dominant in bed. Well, it surprises you at first, once he lets that side of himself show, but it fits in your mind eventually. He likes rules, and he likes enforcing what happens when those rules are broken. Big fan of orgasm denial, but also a big fan of edging you until your mind nearly breaks. I mean, parts of him vibrate, and quite strongly. He will use that against you.

[aviawrites]

a winter’s dragon: flying

!s: aemond targ x reader, northern!reader

summary: Princess Auriela hasn’t known a day of happiness since she was arranged to marry Aemond Targaryen. In her pursuits to take control of her life so far from her home in the North, Auriela only stirs the pot of the already war stricken kingdom, pointing knives in her direction. Accompanied by her common folk, Auriela intends to dig herself out of her green hole. [9.9k]

a/n: i’ve been writing a game of thrones fic for a year and a half now (i can’t seem to finish). in the meantime, my most recent hyper fix has been aemond so i hope this story does him justice. part two may come in three days or three years depending on my mood. anyway, as always, ur interaction is greatly appreciated, ily<3

warnings: swearing, allusions to sex/almost a smut scene, death, violence, nothing you haven’t watched in the show

in this story, yn is: auriela dustin

hey! read part 2! -> a winter’s dragon: burning

The Red Keep has been a cold place, the walls going bare and air flowing frigid since the departure of Rhaenyra. In the two short years since the Grand Maester wed you to the queen’s second born son, you’ve quickly come to realize why your neighboring Northern house, Stark, happily bent the knee to Rhaenyra when she was named. 

Much has changed since then, your already feeble relationship with your husband has grown ever weaker. You’ve become a solemn woman since your last days in your home of the North, your only friends in the Keep being your handmaiden, Vialy, and your goodsister, Helaena. Sinless, virtuous women in the crossfire of the vicious infighting that has fallen upon the kingdom as of late. You spend your days with them, caring for Jaehaera and Jaehaerys, and strolling with Vialy as the royal family immerses themselves in their own politicking. 

Your husband, Aemond, seems just as apathetic to you as you are him. The only conversations you have consist of him relaying cold messages from his mother, the majority urging you to produce her son heirs in order to strengthen their line. Save those, you and your husband have virtually no interaction at all. Even the consummation of your marriage has been put off, neither of you wanting to face the reality of your relationship.

Now, in your bedchambers, you wince, blood drawing from where you’ve pricked your finger with the embroidery needle. Just as you go to soothe it with your mouth, a knock comes through the door.

“Come.” You call, sucking your thumb.

“Lord Larys Strong, my Lady.” Vialy’s voice softly whispers as she opens the door, the clubfoot coming into view. She closes it behind him.

You set aside your hoop and fabric, smoothing your robe as you swing your legs over the side of the bed.

“Please, Princess,” he holds a hand up. “No need.”

You nod, putting your legs back under the covers. “What is it, Lord Strong?”

He stalks closer, his eyes switching from the silhouette of your legs and back to you.

“Women,” he begins, “are the most overlooked assets in the kingdom, my Lady. Good queen Alysanne’s Women’s Courts brought to light many of the injustices our mothers, sisters, and wives stumble upon in their ranks.”

“I know my histories well, my Lord,” you assure him. “Is that of relevance?” 

He glares at you, that sorrowful look forver behind his eyes.

“May I speak plainly?”

“Please.”

“…I understand that you’ve taken notice of your Lord husband’s absences at night. One seldom may find him abed, where he’s expected, in the hour of the wolf.”

Your brows thread together as the Lord teeters on overstepping. Though you’ve wisened to the fact that the clubfoot has a gift for speaking ugly truths with no consequence falling upon him.

He continues. “I can’t help but wonder if the Princess ever longs to know where he spends his nights.”

You sigh. “I have no doubt that you possess such knowledge.”

“I do…but I shall hold my tongue, should it displease you to know,” he remarks, cornering you into the allusion of choice, wanting you to beg at his feet for the miraculous information that he seems to have an endless supply of.

“No, pray tell me where Aemond goes in the dead of night,” you relent.

Lord Larys goes on to tell you nothing short of a tale. He speaks of a pleasure house that your husband frequents, along with a madam. Thrice his age she’s said to be, the first and only woman he’s laid with. That is where he chooses to spend his time, throwing dirt on the name of his wife in exchange for a whore in a pleasure house.

You dismiss the Lord, but can’t help the spark of fury rising in your stomach. Aemond is the son of the Dowager, he’s brother of the King, he’s a Targaryen, and he chooses to fill his time shaming his name and house in such a place. The issue hardly lies with his choice of establishment and more with his status. He’s promised to you, wed to you. Even if the two of you have no love for the arrangement, at least you honor it. But because he is a man he can conduct himself as he pleases?

You quickly change out of your robes and into a plain featured gown, making sure that a hood is on the collar. Swinging your door open, you grab Vialy’s hand and pull her down the corridor.

“Where are we headed?” she asks, struggling to keep up with your pace.

“We’re going out,” you whisper.

“What for?”

“If my husband can spend his nights on the Street of Silk, so can I.”

“The Street of Silk?” she raises her voice as the two of you rush down the stairs. “What business could you possible have there?”

“Shh-“

“Auriela.” you hear a familiar voice at the top of the stairs.

The two of you freeze, slowly turning to face your goodbrother, dimly lit by the moonlight.

“Aegon.”

“Where are you off to?” he asks, a cup of wine in his hand and a tipsy droop to his eyelids.

“To the city, my King,” you say truthfully, assuming he won’t remember the conversation come dusk. “We won’t be long.”

“Well…Wait there, I’ll get someone to escort you.”

“Oh, there’s no need for hassle, brother. I’ve got Vialy-“

“Your handmaiden is not a knight,” he rolls his eyes, ever vigilant of how attached at the hip the two of you are. “You need a swordsman, stay there.”

Aegon stumbles as he walks toward his chambers in search of a guard. You look at a wide eyed and terrified Vialy. You briefly ponder on your next actions, though not long enough before you pull your friend with you, sprinting down the stairs and toward the side doors. 

“Ella!” she whisper shouts as you run away from the castle.

“I’m not being chaperoned on a visit to my own city. Especially not by some stuck up white cloak.”

“The King commanded you, I- We’ll get in trouble!”

“The King’s drunk, he probably never made it ten steps before collapsing.”

…

You finally slow down, looking in upon the vibrant Street of Silk, colorful creatives and laborers alike lining the street with their gifts. A great smile grows on your face, never having seen such savage freedom in your life. Nothing of the sort could possibly take place in the snowy streets of Barrowtown, nor the guarded streets of the Keep. But the smallfolk, the lucky majority, see such liberty all their lives.

You and Vialy stop at the tallest and most decorated brothel on the street, men and women pouring in and out.

“Are you sure about this, Princess?”

“No more of that, Via,” you tuck your hair before pulling your hood up. “We no longer have status. Not here,” you grin before pulling her in.

What you can only imagine is the smell of ravaging sex fills the air, the temperature rising as the two of you cowardly enter the pillow house. 

“This is not a place becoming of a royal, Auriela,” Vialy whispers.

“The King and his brother attend such places all the time,” you mindlessly remark, looking around at all of the frivolous and free fucking in every direction.

It’s only when your eyes scan a private room at the back of the house when you see a sight you don’t expect. 

Green eyed, olive, and tall, a roughly dressed boy sits alone on a floor mattress, looking out at the pursuits around him.

“Via…” you keep your eyes on him.

“If any of them were at the wedding they’ll know who you-“

“Vialy, look.” you point.

The two of you stare on as he obliviously looks past you, his carefully molded face glistening with a sheet of sweat in the humid atmosphere. 

“I’ll see you…” you walk toward the boy.

“What- Don’t leave me, Ella!”

“He isn’t your taste anyhow, find a maiden to entertain.”

Vialy turns red at your observations, never secure in who the gods made her attracted to. You never minded though, the realm knows the same of Rhaenyra’s late husband, Laenor. It never cast as dark of shadow on house Velaryon as Vialy believes it shall cast on her.

“Princess.” she nods, leaving you to it as you approach the boy. 

You draw closer. His emerald eyes look up at you as you close the curtain behind you, sitting criss cross in front of him.

“How much for your favors?” 

He remains relaxed, slyly leaning back on his hands. “How much do you have?”

You smile. “I just want your time.”

“I have little and less of it as of late, Princess.”

You catch a frog in your throat as your smile drops, sitting up straight. 

“…You know me?”

He leans forward, stroking the arm of your gown. “Nobles frequent here…No common woman has frocks of such tulle.”

Your face goes a little hot as you examine his…examining yours. The man is young enough, though older than Aemond, only by a few years. His loose blouse nearly slips off of his thin frame as a mischievous smirk grows on his lips.

“I’ve never served a highborn woman before,” he mimics your position, his hands in his lap.

“And that way you shall remain,” you assure him. “Who have you served?”

“Many out of the Red Keep. Beneath their cloaks of righteousness all men wish for the same thing.”

“Is it only highborn men that you’ve served?”

“Highborn…lowborn…any willing to pay their dues.”

“Hm,” you hum, wondering if he knows how much you envy his autonomy of his own endeavors.

“And what of you? What business does a Princess have in a place like this?”

“I heard I’m free to be who I wish as long as I’m here,” you say truthfully. “Free to do as I wish.”

“That is true…Though I’d imagine you’d much better enjoy the freedoms of the safe castle.”

You scoff. “I know none of the freedoms you speak of. I’m just as chained as the prisoners I walk above every day.” 

“You resent what most girls would kill for.”

“Let them,” you shrug. “I’d give my station to the lowest of women if it meant I could go back home.”

“And where is that?”

You pause, wondering if such information can be trusted with this man. But as he so prettily awaits an answer, you can only think of the web of truths your husband has likely spun to his paramour.

“Barrowtown.”

“A Northerner,” he smiles, “I should’ve known.”

“And where is your home?”

“Is it not clear?”

You furrow your brows.

“Gods, the sun really has been seized from my skin,” he chuckles. “Dorne, Princess. Starfall.”

“Starfall…” you recall your lessons with the Septa. “Are you a Dayne?”

He hums. “You know your histories, Princess.”

“Call me Auriela, Lord Dayne.”

“Lord,” his body shakes with an erupting laugh, his smile brightening your mood even more. “I’m no Lord, Princess Auriela. I’m called Lucan, or Deephide.”

“Deephide?”

“They say I’m too dark to be a hart but too light to be a crow. The company I keep isn’t too creative when it comes to names.”

You laugh. “I think Lucan is a fine name alone.”

You and the boy talk well into the night, your sitting positions morphing into lying side by side on the mattress. Groups of buyers trot in and out of the pleasure house, though all of Lucan’s are rejected in your presence. 

In one of the long hours of the night, or perhaps an early hour of the morning, Vialy emerged from behind the curtain. A girl was treading on her heels, her hair darker than yours and skin paler than salt. Your heart warms as Vialy’s rare smile grows upon her face, locking hands with the girl. Alice, she’s called. “I never want to leave, Ella.” she remarks before giddily running back off with her doxy.

It’s only hours later, when the patrons thin and the sounds of pleasure cease, that you and Lucan finally egress from the small back room. There, you see slithers of sunlight peeking through the cracks in the door. 

Vialy rushes up to you, her eyes wide.

“Princess,” she urges. “Princess, we must go.”

On the other side of the door, you hear an array of hoof beats against the cobblestone street.

“They’re looking for you, Princess,” she frantically pulls you toward the door.

“Wh- Who?”

“The City Watch.” vialy heaves, her panic only growing. “We’ve overstayed, it’s well past the hour of the Nightingale. We must return.”

“Wait, wait,” you pull your arm from her. “Why must we go? Aemond doesn’t return for days at a time.”

Vialy stares at you. “We are not men, Princess.”

“Why rush?” you giggle, Lucan joining your side. “You were just having so much fun.”

“That was before I knew that Gold Cloaks were searching for a Princess that I’m meant to tend to. Please,” she pulls you once again, “please, let’s return to the Keep.”

“No,” you turn her to you. “The Gold Cloaks will cast around for a while before they return to the Keep empty handed, as they do with my husband.”

She frowns. “Ella…”

“We will return,” you assure her. “Only a little longer, okay? We as women don’t experience this freedom often in our lives, allow me this one day.”

Vialy’s expression says all you need to know. Nevertheless, she bows her head as she does in the Red Keep.

“Princess,” she mumbles before weakly returning to the dark haired girl.

Lucan turns to you. “Do you often evade the law enforcement of your castle?”

“Not nearly as much as I wish to,” you smile.

“I have yet to meet a noble woman who’d rather spend her days in a pillow house than in her palace.”

“Spend your time locked in the Keep and see how long before you run back to freedom.”

He examines the near empty premises before pulling you toward the door.

“Once the Watch leaves our street I’ll be happy to show you the finer things in your city,” he suggests. “Much prettier than here…”

…

Your hood stays up as Lucan pulls you by the hand, holding tight so as not to lose you in the sea of smallfolk at the Blackwater docs. Your mouth hangs agape as ships sit idle in the port, hundreds of men laboring on and around them. Grand green and gold flags hang from many of them as cargo is loaded.

“Are these all from Essos?” you ask Lucan.

“I thought you knew your histories.”

“Lands and lords, I know well. Maritime traffic was never a subject my septas lingered on.”

“Hm,” Lucan nods, watching as you admire the great ships. “Well that one there is from Braavos. The plum tint of their sails is from the old practice of dying their stolen ships.”

“And those?” you point to the green bannered vessels. “Are they our royal fleet?”

“Some are,” he shrugs. “Others come from lands across the Narrow Sea or the Sea of Dorne.”

The two of you finally depart the docs in pursuit of your next expedition. Lucan plays the jester, forcing so many laughs from you that your stomach burns as the two of you explore your sacred town for hours. Plays in Flea Bottom amuse you more than any fool in the Keep has, beautiful musicians bring you to tears, and incredible tailor-ship lines the streets as the sun begins to fall. The two of you see flashes of gold throughout the city, signaling the second round of searches. Lucan leads you back to the whore house that is once again bursting at the seams. You head to the familiar and quiet room, though you pause when you see Alice, alone.

“Where’s Via gone?” you ask, Lucan’s hand still in yours.

“Forgive me, she’s left.”

A small beat skips in your heart as you examine the room.

“Has she?”

“Early this evening, says she was too afraid of the Gold Cloaks to deliberately elude their efforts.”

“Hm,” you nervously bite your lip. “Well I shall await her return, even if she may bear the company of those I avoid. When they come, I shall be ready.” 

Alice stops you when you attempt to pass her, holding something out.

“For when you see her next,” she places a fine necklet in your hand, a handmade red pendant in the center.

You nod, noticing the matching one she wears around her neck. With that, you and Lucan leave Alice and enter your room.

“Do you imagine your husband worries for you?” Lucan asks as you both sit.

“He’s never done so before, it’d be a shock if he began now.”

“He surely has some love for you, Princess. It must not be that he’s a cold as you say.”

“Colder,” you assure him, your knees touching his as you lean toward him. “We hold the titles man and wife but we couldn’t be further from it.”

“…Does he please you?” 

You scoff. “Not in the way you’re asking.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“I like how you speak plainly,” you smile. “Aemond seems to prefer a more…seasoned woman.”

Lucan laughs. “Really?”

“Thrice his age his lover is said to be,” you reveal before you can stop yourself.

“May I say it as I see it, Princess?”

You nod, paying more attention to his lips than you are his words.

“I think the Prince knows not of what he fails to seek out. I have no doubt that he’d find satisfaction in pleasuring you. His wife is a maiden yet he fucks a crone…a fools choice he makes.”

“Precisely, Lucan,” you argue. “It matters not whether I’m a maiden if at the time of the deed, I have no knowledge of what I’m to do. By all accounts I’m meant to lay there as he impales me until I bear his plain featured sons, I want no part in it.”

“I can show you, Princess. When done the way whores are taught, coupling isn’t an act of duty but a mutual act of pleasure. For both lady and lord.”

You think on his words, your attention now on those rather than his mouth. You ultimately agree, some hidden and repulsive side deep in you wanting to be desired. Wanting to be able to please Aemond.

Lucan smiles, lying on the mattress. He pulls you onto him, a flash of hot warming your face.

“He’ll never allow me atop him like this.”

“Perhaps no. But minds will change once he feels what happens when you are.”

He places his hands on your hips, rocking them back and forth as he instructs you as to where to put your hands. His chest, his neck, your hair, your palms roam every inch of your bodies as he instructs you further. Even when he flips the two of you, hovering above, he tells you how to stay in control. His bottoms stroke against your dress as your hands travel once more to Lucan’s orders. 

The two of you continue until you’re sweaty and worn out, falling asleep with many and more ideas on how to touch your husband, should the time when you wish to ever come.

✺ ✺ ✺

“Are you sure about this, Princess?” Lucan looks around the crowded fighting pits. “He’s not ours to take.”

“Would you rather him in there?” you ask as you pick up the tiny, hooded, silver haired boy, looking down at the feral children.

Lucan stays quiet, following after you as the boy keeps a hold around your neck. You make it all the way back to your room in the whore house before being stopped.

“You can’t bring a child in. Leave him outside,” a brothel madam commands at the door.

“They’re with me,” Lucan insists. 

“Outside,” she commands.

You sigh heavy, reluctantly lowering the boy’s hood to reveal his indisputable Targaryen hair. The madam’s eyes widen as she more likely than not imagines how much a Targaryen would sell for, even if he’s only young. She lets you in, smirking at Lucan as if he’s brought her a gift. 

You arrive back to the room. “He’s not Aemond’s,” you tell Lucan. “My husband’s a fool but he’d never do this.”

“Aegon’s then,” he watches as you sit the child in front of you two.

“One of many I’d think.”

The boy is slow to speak, making you wonder if he knows how. You can make out that he’s about Jaehaerys’ age, no older than seven. 

It’s only after much unanswered questions and empty silence that the boy finally speaks. Maeserys, he’s called.

“Whoever his mother is,” you whisper to Lucan, “she knew what he was.” 

A name fit for a decendant of Old Valyria. He uncovers the little of his past that he remembers. No brothers, no mother, only fighting pits and scavenging. He speaks with a lisp and knows few words, only enough to keep him alive in a city such as this one. You can’t help but feel sad for Maeserys, he’s your kin by law yet has been living as a commoner since he can remember. 

Lucan relieves the boy of the heavy interrogation, delivering him to his close friend working a nearby tavern, Pate. As difficult as it is to separate from the neglected boy, a tavern is a much more fitting environment for someone like him.

Alone again, you and Lucan sit knee to knee, your hand in his. He traces the lines of your palm, a trick he says he learned in Dorne. “Each trunk is how many sons you’ll have, each branch is how many daughters.” According to this, you’re meant to have three of each. 

Simultaneously, you trace his palms back. You sit in silence, the ambience of constant foot traffic outside humming lowly. Lucan lifts your hand, pressing a kiss into it. You’re entranced, sensuality sparking through you as you look over to him.

“Every woman is an image of the mother,” his face nears yours, “to be treated with reverence.”

It’s not a thought out action when your lips meet. It’s slow, it’s passion filled. A small smile grows on your lips as you truly taste your newfound freedom, finally being liberated of the dread that comes with your husband in the Red Keep. Lucan’s lips travel downward to your jaw, then to your neck. You stroke hair, small breaths escaping you. His hand is making its way up your thighs and to your waist when the curtain cover of the room is ripped open.

There, standing taller than you remember him, your husband stares down at you. His old ladylove of which you’ve heard so much about stands behind him, both of them stripped and bare. Aemond’s face twists in a mix of anger and humiliation, staring at both you and Lucan before rushing away. 

You’re left frozen, silent as Lucan stumbles over his words.

“I-“ he stammers, “I’m sorry, Princess. I knew not that he’d be-“

Your eyes stay wide, tears beginning to line them as you think of all of the grave consequences that you’ve invited upon yourself. You never had a plan, at least not one that you’ve thought through. Sure, you were awaiting the Gold Cloaks. But the idea of your own husband catching you in such a compromised state sends shivers down your spine.

Though, there was no time for shock. Aemond comes barreling back in, now fully clothed and alone. He says nothing, only tightly grabs your arm and drags you to your feet, away from Lucan.

✺ ✺ ✺

Water fills your eyes as they stay glued to the floor. You stand in the center of a secluded room, the furnace behind you heating up your body. In front of you, a council of those you wished to never lay eyes on again stare at you. The Dowager Queen, the Hand, the Maester, your husband, and the King all sit behind a long table, interrogating.

“What for?” the Queen Mother asks, stern and angry.

“I- I don’t know, Your Grace,” you mumble, hiccuping between your tears. “I wanted to see beyond the walls of the keep.”

“Three days, Auriela,” she reminds you. “You ‘saw the city’ for three days whilst the Watch was searching endlessly?”

You’ve concluded that she’s the most fearsome woman the Gods have yet to make as you fiddle with the hem of your sleeve, barely able to croak out words.

“…I was exploring.”

“Exploring, you say,” she nods. “In a brothel?”

You shake your head, assembling a feeble lie in the seconds you have. “I was only chasing hound, my Queen.”

“And the boy?”

Suddenly, the air escapes your body as you look up for the first time, your eyes shooting to Aemond. He was angry with you, rightfully so. But you hadn’t expected him to tell his mother the true details of how he found you. For some foolish reason you thought the two of you had that understanding.

“I- He means nothing we…we did nothing. I swear it.”

Your husband for some odd reason feels the need to speak up.

“That’s not what the madam told me.”

An anger rises in you that you weren’t sure was accessible to you at such a time as this. Only in the face of directly speaking to Aemond did all of your fear cease. 

“And what were you yourself doing in a brothel, Lord husband?”

He smirks, recognizing this side of you. “Searching for my Lady wife, of course.”

“Searching,” you scoff. “Is that why every whore on the Street of Silk knows you by name and face? Because you go searching so often?”

“Hm, watch your words, wife,” he bickers back, his smirk turning into more of a sneer.

"Your words are wind, for I am innocent of any crimes,” you speak up, face hot with fury. “Why am I standing trial when the Prince runs to the same place every night? Fucking old rotting whores instead of tending to his wife-“

“That is enough, Auriela!” Alicent demands, pounding her hands on the table.

Aegon finally acts, placing a hand on Alicent’s. “Mother…”

Remembering he is here, you bow your head. “My apologies, my King. That was beneath me.”

Otto Hightower sighs, breaking the silence as the table ogles his daughter. "It brings shame to your house, Princess; to your family, when a Lady such as yourself is seen in such an...implicative position. We only ask that you not be seen conducting yourself in such a manner again.”

You nod at the Hands request, slight shame warming your face.

“Command, he means to say,” Aegon corrects. "It is a command by word of your King that you never leave this keep again if not attended."

"I was attended-"

"By a member of my Kingsguard." 

Once again, you nod, though you’d much rather roll your eyes in the face of this shameless usurper.

"A clement constraint, wife,” Aemond adds. “It wouldn't be so were I King."

If only you were King.

✺ ✺ ✺

“One day I’d like to see the city,” Helaena remarks as you sit beside her, playing dolls with little Jaehaera.

“One day you shall, my Queen,” you assure her.

Behind you, the door opens. Vialy enters, her presence suddenly reminding you of the new life that you lived for a short three days. 

Only, Vialy looks grievous. A black and purple ring forms around her eye, bruises and scars littering her neck and chest. You drop the dolls, running up to her. You frantically turn her jaw, examining. 

“What’s happened!?” 

“I’m alright, Princess-“

“That’s not what I’ve asked you.”

She sighs, knowing well that you won’t let this go. “The King’s Justice didn’t like my arrival unaccompanied by my Lady.”

Your lips part, regret washing over you. “Wh-“ you stare at her. “Did he take you to the dungeons?”

“Only a few short hours,” she shrugs, “and a few short beatings.” 

“Vialy,” you shake your head. “Why would he torture you after you’ve said all you know? It’s not sensible…”

She chuckles. “My Princess, I said nothing.”

Your face drops, staring at hers. A small and proud smirk rests on her lips as a frown forms on yours.

“You fool!” you reprimand. “You should’ve told him all you knew of me, down to the room I resided in!”

“I am loyal to you-“

“I would never ask this of you, Via!” you stress. Her beaten down, yet gratified expression evokes a crossness in you…along with a hint of reassurance. Nevertheless, you sigh. “I’ll take it up with Aemond. The king as well.”

“It’s truly not needed. For my devotion to the Princess shan’t be swayed by a few hits.”

You sheepishly smile, giving her this small victory. Though, you have no intent of letting this happening go unspoken of. But as of now, you drop it, bringing Vialy to where you and Helaena sat with the children. There, you hand her the wooden spun necklace that Alice gave you, a warm smile growing on her lips as she thanks you.

…

“Clement,” you burst into your husband’s bed chambers, slamming the heavy door behind you. “A clement King you called him.”

Aemond can barely turn around before you shove him, forcing him to catch himself on his table.

“I know not what you speak of,” he looks at you wildly before regaining his composure, “but I suggest you keep your head about you.”

“Did you see what they had done to my Handmaiden? A woman, an innocent!”

He scoffs. “She was the last to see the missing Princess, it is the Justice’s work to see to any leads.”

"To what end, Aemond? The girl said she didn't know, what more must she say?"

"And that was a lie,” he corrects you. “Lying to an extension of the crown is treasonous, Auriela. Punishable by death."

"Death…” you stare, eyes burning with fury, “all for not revealing my whereabouts?"

"If only you had come home."

You roll your eyes, sighing as you debate saying what the both of you already know. The image of a weakened Vialy smiling through her pain encourages you to express on the whole of you and your husband. 

"...Why this farce, Aemond? Why must we continue this? We fail at up-keeping the appearances of our marriage…why not just end it?"

"End it...” he furrows his brow, “you have yet to mention this before."

You do the same, silently begging for him to just admit it. "Need I? You know as well as I that we shall never learn to work as one."

"Actually I ever learn that I know little and less about my Lady wife."

You shrug, knowing he’ll never cease to dance around the cold truth of what the two of you have been and will always remain…strangers. You accept defeat and land on compromise. 

"Just have Aegon allow me leave. I will arrive back as needed,” you truly ask. He looks at you so intently, the last time he’s done so being on your wedding day. “I will do my duty and produce you heirs, and we shall live our separate days."

“Hm,” he thinks, scanning you up and down in that cold stare before nodding. "And would you be asking leave if I were that brothel boy?"

You scrunch your face, the conversation seemingly taking a turn in a different direction. 

"What?"

"The boy, Deephide."

Regrettably, you almost scowl, feeling strange toward your husband’s mention of Lucan. Your days on the Street of Silk seemed like a separate reality completely, one that Aemond has no knowledge of. Now, you feel a small sense of territoriality of those few days, and all personnel that they entail.

"Aemond I'm married to you, what-  How can that not be enough?"

"But you chose him,” he continues. “Is it because he's older? Or lowborn?"

"Husband, leave this.”

“Do you like Dornish men?”

Perhaps I do, you think. 

"You've always seemed most uninterested in what l like.”

He continues to pry. "Why do you want him?"

"Why do you want women older than your mother?” you snap, his perseverance on the matter seeming all too personal. "We all want things in our lives, Aemond. There's no reason, we just do."

“Those are wise words,” he remarks, still staring as if he wants to see through you. "…Did you bed him?"

“What do you take me for?” you deride. “I am wed, that may mean little to you but it's an ever growing shadow upon my name. I am not like you, I am not a man, I cannot give my maidenhead away freely as you can."

A small grin sneaks on his lips. "I am glad."

"Excuse me?"

"That you've remained a maiden,” he departs from leaning on the table and pursues you, his tall frame towering over yours. “Despite your...excursions.”

The closer he gets the smaller you feel, his eye still treading on yours.

His voice lowers. “Our marriage must be consummated one day, Auriela. Some don’t consider us legitimate at all so long as you remain unsullied.”

Aemond’s breath heats your skin, the two of you closer than you’ve been in years. Your eyes flicker from his own to his lips, refusing to believe what he’s asking of you. 

Your breath shakes slightly. “That I know…”

He bites the bullet, moving before he can think. His hand rests between your collar and jaw, keeping a firm grip on you. You shudder as he pulls your mouth to his, a hunger in his kisses. The rough and sudden clash has your mind racing a million leagues a minute. The two of you have had your fair share of kisses, all of which being to please the eyes of his mother and council. Aemond has never desired you, never looked in your direction, never spoke of or to you unless forced to. Where this abrupt change in passion comes from, no man can say.

You don’t realize the way your hands seem to pull him closer until you’re interrupted, a knock at his door. Aemond pays it no mind, continuing to overwhelm you until three knocks ring out again. 

He lets out a frustrated growl, keeping you in his hands as he looks over your head. He gives you one more glance before releasing, walking over and opening the door.

“The King requires an audience, my Prince,” the unmistakable voice of Criston Cole says.

“Tell my brother I’m occupied, Ser Criston,” Aemond brushes him off, shutting the door.

Cole holds it open. “Forgive me but it’s a command. He asks for your wife.”

Your husband grunts, slamming the door and turning back to you.

“He truly always finds a way to steal my joy.”

Standing opposite a mirror, you smooth your dress down. “Ser Criston?”

“Aegon.”

“Hm,” you hum. Aemond stands behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist as you ready yourself for the King you so despise. 

Neither of you dare speak a word of what may have happened had Ser Criston not intervened. You just stare into the mirror, a rare sight, the two of you looking like a proper pair.

You snap out of it, heading toward the door as Aemond holds onto your waist for as long as he can. When he finally lets go, you scurry out of his chambers, a breath finally escaping that you were unaware you were holding. Ser Criston leads you to the chamber of the Small Council.

…

“No, my King,” you plainly state, wanting nothing more than to leave his presence, “I have yet to bear a Princeling.”

Aegon sits at the head of the empty table, sitting you at the corner as he asks perpetual and aimless questions.

“My brother is a cunt but I always thought he’d know his way around one,” he smirks, staring at you with an all too fake quizzical look. “May that be yours or an old hags.”

You stay silent, imagining you were anywhere but in this chamber with this boy.

“Have you at the least lost your maidenhead? I’ve heard whispers of you and the Dornish boy-“

"Is the King this engrossed with his own wife's affairs? He seems to be most interested in my fucking and fooling."

“Ha,” Aegon tsks, "you may soon find that Northern mouth getting you into trouble, goodsister.”

You eye him impassively with a demeaning tilt of your head before making the mature decision to back down.

 "Right, Your Grace,” you adjust. “I forget myself, I shall hold my tongue before my King. I only wish to ask what this meeting may be about."

“Much better,” he smiles before standing up, heading toward the board marked with houses, pins, and landmarks. “You know as well as anyone that the North is a hard cart to heave. They swore fealty to the pretendor of Dragonstone years ago, I need you to ensure that they now know who their trueborn King is.”

You stifle a laugh, the sight of Aegon trying to rule being nothing short of a jest. In this prospect especially, where he’s sure to fail before he’s even begun. 

“And how would you have me do that, Your Grace?”

“By traveling to Winterfell and promising your firstborn daughter to second of Cregan Stark’s sons,” he blurts out, a proud smile on his face telling you that he’s come up with this plan all on his own…evidently.

“My King,” you begin, not sure which of the hundreds of flaws you should bring attention to first, “I suggest we send a raven to scope how far Winterfell is willing to stray from their oaths foremost. As you said, we aren’t easy to sway, the North does remember, Your Grace.”

“They may not be easy to sway,” he emphasizes the detachment of the North and yourself, “but I send you because you know the North. It was your home, you’re more familiar than any of us.”

“Yes, and because of that I know that Cregan is slow to waiver and quick to call his banners.”

“Shall he support the cunt of Dragonstone, let them come.”

You scoff. “You don’t want war with the North, Your Grace. Cregan will never bend even with Sunfyre himself at his gates. Lucerys wasn’t far from Lord Stark’s own dead brother’s age, all the more reason to sympathize with the Velaryons. And who’s to say he hasn’t already been preyed upon by the blacks?”

“The North is closer to us than to Dragonstone.”

“They’re ahead of us in that sense,” you remind him. “While our King thrust us into war and bloodshed, Rhaenyra took a steady route; collecting her allies and seeking her foes.”

Aegon wears a frustrated scowl at your reprimands, coming back to the table and standing over you, his hands resting just in front of yours. 

“Do you mean to doubt the King’s ways?” he asks, his voice low and warning.

“I mean to do no such thing,” you assure him. You look toward to door. “May I ask why my husband isn’t privy to this discussion?”

He looks you up and down, minorly offended before he retakes his seat. “I heard that you disagree with some of my methods of questioning.”

Vialy. Your heart skips a beat, knowing that the only people who knew about your feelings on the matter were Helaena, Vialy, and Aemond; all of which were consulted within the hour. Was he eavesdropping on your conversations?

You stay fairly quiet on the matter. “I just wanted my handmaiden to feel safe and at home in the Keep.”

“Mm,” he nods, placing his chin on his fist, “and do you feel safe and at home, sister?”

A small wrinkle forms above your brow as you fail to decipher what he could possibly be getting at. You smooth it out, knowing better than to hurt a powerful man’s confidence beyond the grounds of small jabs.

“…Am I free to go, Your Grace?” 

He lingers on you, close to how his brother does, before waving his hand. You stand, walking toward the door not knowing whether you’re still expected to go North. If the King says it, so it shall be. Though, you’re not sure how welcome you’d be back home after your time here. As you exit the room, a pit forms in your stomach at the thought of it…

✺ ✺ ✺

Later

The night replays itself in your head relentlessly. Aemond seemed like a new man. He was careful, gentle even as he undressed you, cradling your head as he laid you upon the bed. The consummation wasn’t witnessed, though you’re sure Ser Criston could assume the activities at hand from what he heard at the door. Many of the things Lucan taught you worked ably, one of them sending your husband over the edge. 

You shan’t complain about the experience, for you expected much worse and are painfully aware of how much worse women before you have had it. However, as you laid in Aemond’s bed, his arms wrapped around you as he softly snored, you couldn’t find sleep. You contrite the thoughts that kept creeping into your head. Alice, Maeserys…Lucan. Your mind refused to rest even as the night grew late. 

You cannot deny that Aemond was good to you tonight…which makes the fact that you’re presently lying naked next to Lucan even more regrettable. You didn’t mean it to happen, but as your feet continued tip toeing away from the Keep and toward the whore house, you found yourself justifying what you intended to do. My maidenhead is gone you thought, bedding two men within the hour only counts as one. 

“I have to return…” you sit up, Lucan’s fingertips tracing your spine.

“Must you?” 

“Mhm,” you nod, standing and stepping into your dress. “I was only meant to visit you.”

He grins. “It gladdens me that you did, Princess.”

You say your goodbyes, deciding to leave the act as it lay and not speak of it again. Lucan seems to understand the arrangement you’ve made, just for the night. 

The cool of the night stings your eyes as you exit the buzzing pleasure house. You nearly trip when your foot is caught at the door. Snapping your head down, your gaze quickly softens as you see what’s grabbed you. Maeserys’ sad violet eyes stare up at you, his hood draping over his brows as his tiny fingers hold onto your dress. You contemplate rushing back inside and cursing whoever left him out here in the cold, then you contemplate doing the same to Pate for not keeping an eye on him. Ultimately, after a brief brainstorm and scan for witnesses, you pick him up and whisk him away. 

You don’t consider what you’ll do with him until you’ve snuck back into the Keep, his arms latched around your neck. Small pattering footsteps ring out as you hurry to your chambers. Though, you find you’re not quick enough as a you hear a familiar clanking round the corner…A knight. You freeze in your spot as Ser Criston Cole nearly walks into you. 

…

“You’re exactly what I thought you to be,” Aemond stands across the room, his volume rising, “heinous…whorish,” he shakes his head.

Your eyes turn a watery red as you silently hex the Lord Commander for delivering you to your downfall.

“Aemond I…” you shake your head, “it was below me, I admit. I-“

“You shall address me as your Lord,” he points a finger in your face. “After all we built, Auriela…Just to throw it away on the morrow, I-“ he scoffs, pacing the room.

“I was thinking of the boy…” you admit truthfully. Of the few victories you’ve won, sneaking Maeserys out of Ser Criston’s sight before he could be he seized was certainly one of them.  

“Who is none of our fucking concern!” Aemond hurls a goblet at you, it clattering onto the floor. “I put my trust in you…I put my my cock in you. Just for you to…” he struggles to normalize his breathing, “just to dispose of me as if it meant nothing.”

Sorrow fills your heart as you see water lining his eye as well, suddenly regretting ever leaving the Keep.

“Husband…” a tear falls down your cheek as you walk toward him. 

You reach for his face, he hesitates before dropping to his knees. His arms wrap around your waist, burying his head as small sobs escape him. It breaks you, feeling only remorse and shame as you cradle his head, softly weeping with him. 

You and your husband stay this way until you have no more tears to cry. No words are spoken as you leave his bed chambers, retrieving little Mase and returning to your own.

✺ ✺ ✺

2 moons later

The unfamiliar smell of dragon breath seeps into the cool air of the North as you stand atop the wall, Cregan looking over the snowy forests with you. 

“If you’ve only come to make me bend the knee to the Usurper then you’ve wasted your travels, cousin.”

“I figured as much,” you admit, “I only ask that you consider it before you open yourself to a war that the North can avoid.”  

“You may be committed to the tyrants by oath and for that I don’t fault you, but the North still remembers their own oaths. If that sends us to war then we welcome it.” Cregan shrugs, his thick accent feeling like home. 

“I’ve heard that,” Aemond’s voice emerges from behind you. The two of your turn. “That the North remembers.”

He steps out of the lift, animal skin draped over his frame. “It’s funny though, as no Northerner seems to remember that your ancestor, Torrhen Stark, bent the knee to mine own, Aegon the Conquerer.”

Cregan glances over to you, then back to Aemond before letting out a laugh. The Prince uncomfortably shifts his position.

“That’s right,” he nods, challengingly getting closer to Aemond. “But you’re no conquerer…you’re just a boy. A craven kinslayer at that.” 

“Hm,” Aemond looks down at him, “watch your tongue, Northman.”

“I suggest you do the same…your royal status doesn’t protect you this close to death,” he gestures beyond the wall.

“My position may be weak here, but my dragon is not.”

“When that fat old lizard is brazen enough to fly over this wall maybe she’ll finally instill some fear in my heart.”

The boys face off, both of their hands resting on their daggers. You step in, placing a hand on Cregan’s chest.

“I’ve got something to show you.”

Aemond returns to his place beside Vhagar and his knights, staying there as you return to Cregan, Mase in your arms.

“…And you’re sure he’s Aegon’s?” Cregan examines the boy, stroking his hair.

“Can’t you tell? I only ask you watch over him until the war subsides, cousin. He’s an innocent.”

He nods, the memory of his small brother pushing his yes.

“I shall protect him like he were my own,” he agrees.

You thank him. “Next time I see you I hope it to be on kinder business.” 

“As do I.”

…

Your husband, at the cost of your dignity and stiff lip, allowed the Starks a time free of war and calls of banners for now, even if they didn’t particularly bend the knee. You and Aemond are leagues ahead of his royal host as you fly on Vhagar. Reluctantly, you make a stop to your home of Barrowtown, seeing your father and sisters for the first time since your father promised you to Aemond. That, you haven’t yet put past him. But the Seven ask you to be forgiving, so forgiveness you shall seek.

✺ ✺ ✺

1 moon later

You feel like a rat beneath the feet of the royals as you peek into the Small Council chamber, silently watching. A hand hovers over your belly as a table full of men discuss the matter.

“I am confident that the child is mine.”

“How can you be so sure, Aemond?” Alicent ridicules him. “The girl has no respect for you or our house, who’s to say she hasn’t fallen pregnant at the hands of a whore in the city?”

“She spends more nights with me than she does in the city, mother. Certainly after Aegon tried shipping her North in the dead of Winter, she wouldn’t be so reckless.”

“But she is reckless,” Aegon speaks up. “I commanded her to stay in the castle, she leaves again that same night. I command her to get Lord Stark to bend the knee, she convinces you to join her on some holiday to the North, accomplishing nothing. Your wife is disobedient, she recognizes no authority.”

“And if the child is not mine?” your husband asks. “If he comes out with dark hair and olive skin, what then? Will you have my child murdered for her crimes.”

You furrow your brows, never considering Aemond to be one of your allies in the castle. After the insults you’ve heard him hurl toward Rhaenyra’s children, you were certain that any child that was not true born was, in his eyes, undeserving.

Lord Wylde eyes him. “You certainly aren’t suggesting we house a bastard in the Keep, my Prince.”

Aemond shrugs. “I only mean to raise the question.”

“There should be no question,” Alicent rubs her temples. “Your shameless wife parades around the castle, bowing to none and seeing no consequence.”

“If she is to be executed for the crime of not living in fear then let you pike my head beside hers-“

“The history of questioned legitimacies is a long and bloody one, my Lords,” Otto breaks the bicker. “Let us not plan for such wickedness and instead bend our knees and bow our heads to the Seven and pray that the Princess bears a true born son of her husband.”

With that, the council moves on to other matters. Though, the sneers on Alicent and her oldest son’s faces don’t cease so quickly, their abhor for you only growing stronger.

…

“Watchers always find a way to seek each other out,” Lord Larys creeps on you from the corner of your bedchamber. “I saw you watching, Princess.”

You sigh, shrugging. “Is it wrong to wish to know the rulings of my own family?”

“Oh, far from it,” he assures you. “But when the queen speaks the bees listen…They question your morale.”

“They question my very being, Lord Larys,” you admit, not in the mood for his riddles. “Speak what you mean.”  

“…I fear that the water is rising, my Lady. Tensions run high and blood runs deep in the Red Keep, I can see as well as any that your welcome here is nearing an end. What they plan to do with you when the grim day comes, I cannot say I know. Though, I do not wish to see you perish, Princess.”

You tilt your head. Larys has a way of rising perspectives that you otherwise would’ve never imagined. He means to say you’re in trouble, you’re in danger in the Keep. The harder you stare the more it all falls into place. They forbid your leaving, they torture your handmaiden, they question your spirits…You begin to feel their ropes of fire tightening around your cold and snowy neck.

“…What do you suggest I do?” you ask, doubtless that he’s thought of an array of plans.

“If all were to come to turmoil here,” he begins, “the Princess is not without a place to turn.”

You shake your head. “My father wouldn’t take me back, he only wishes to keep his ties to the Targaryens.” 

“Not the North…I propose you look across the bay.”

“…Dragonstone?” you ask. 

Larys nods. “The black Princess has no reason to turn you away.”

“None save the fact that I’ve sworn myself to her enemies and sleep in her stolen castle.”

“A commitment not made by your hand,” he argues. 

You think back to the few interactions that you have had with Rhaenyra, all of which taking place when she returned for the brief period following your wedding. You recall her and her children showing you nothing but kindness, a warm feeling in contrast to the everlasting silence you experience here. Rhaenyra spoke to you as if you were a person, an equal; she talked about histories, asked about your life in the North, introduced you to Jace and Luke.

“So I flee my husband and my duties?” you query, contemplating both sides of the coin. “Leave the land I’ve always known to seek refuge with Rhaenyra?”  

“A cautious, yet judicious arrangement,” Larys remarks. “If my Princess wishes…it shall be done.”

Rhaenyra’s an acquaintance, a relative at the greatest; but as you weigh the odds, warily looking at your lawful family, the ancestral seat of the Targaryens begins to look like the more favorable position.

A knock rings at your door. Both you and the Clubfoot look at each other, then toward the knocks.

You clear your throat. “Come.”

Vialy opens the door, behind her, a serpent.

“The Dowager Queen, Princess.” your handmaiden announces, giving you a worrisome look before shutting the door behind Alicent.

“Queen mother,” both you and Larys bow as Alicent eyes you. 

“I wish to speak to the Princess alone, Lord Larys.”

He nods before tottering his way out. 

“How can I serve you?” you ask.

Alicent huffs, sitting at your study and looking out of the window.

“You’re with child,” she states.

“Yes, my queen,” you smile. “I ask the Seven for a healthy boy.”

“As do I,” she looks back at you. “Did you want for children before this, in the North?”

“Um,” you stammer, “I want whatever makes you and your- or- my house happy.”

“We’re alone here, you may speak truly.”

The Dowager’s words slide off your back, knowing better than to ever speak plainly to her.

“I was never good with children. I had only my sisters at home whom were one and two years my junior,” you shrug. “But the time I spend with the Queen’s children gives me hope that I may be a sufficient mother.” 

“Mm, and do you fear for your child? For what people will think of them?”

A frown forms on your lips. “I do not,” you lie. “Have I reason to?”

She scoffs, standing. “You have all the reason to, Auriela.” 

Alicent nears you, inspecting your face. Her breath tickles your skin as she strokes your braid.

“We birth children knowing the horrors they’ll face and the suffering they’ll endure,” she says. “I only hope that a mother’s shameful acts don’t add to the weight upon their tiny shoulders…”

She looks you up and down, your mouth slightly agape. No more words are spoken as she releases your hair and heads to the door, leaving you dangling.

You cannot say if she meant to scare you or threaten you, perhaps both. But the overpowering spark in your stomach is what you can only recognize anger. Angry that she feels she can scare you in a castle that she ordered you to, that she could frighten you when she arranged your marriage…Alicent is the shameless one, stalking and harassing you as she soils the Lord Commander’s white cloak nightly. 

You sit in the chair that she did moments ago. You retrieve a quill, ink, and scroll, addressing your letter:

‘Dear sister…’

✺ ✺ ✺

1 Moon Later

“It was the Strong,” Lucan says, tears streaming down his cheeks, “I know it.”

You hold Vialy tight in your arms as she weeps, Alice’s cold slain body lying in the middle of you, a sheet draped over her. Lucan’s words are senseless, blaming Lord Larys, one of the few you consider your ally, of ordering their deaths.

“Not Larys,” you shake your head, “he’s a friend.”

“He’s a snake who weasels his way into all things,” Lucan grits his teeth, staring at Alice. “The people talk, Auriela...His servants say he did it for you.”

Your head snaps to him. “What?”

Lucan stares back, his eyes numb and voice low. “You think he’s a friend but so does the Queen, and the King, and your husband, and the Dowager. He cannot be trusted, he ordered me dead, Princess.”

“Why would he do such a thing, Lucan?”

He sighs. “I adore you, Princess, I do…But you’ve been blinded. The Lord speaks with two tongues. He tells you to estrange yourself from the crown, on the morrow he tells the crown that you’ve become reckless…treasonous.”

Vialy buries her head in your dress, still sobbing. 

“…Have I no one in the whole of King’s Landing on my side?”

Lucan grabs your hand. “The smallfolk are a greater force than you take us for. Your handmaiden is loyal to you, you say your husband is loyal to you, even the Queen across the bay.”

You groan, tears collecting between the four of you as your escort, a Knight, stands over you out of earshot. Suddenly, it becomes very clear what you must do. Though, you no longer intend to take up the mission with Lord Larys.

✺ ✺ ✺

2 Weeks Later

You seize the first opportunity get. After a week of pent up emotions and grim planning, you and your allies in the City are prepared to make the escape that Lord Larys spoke of. 

The Dowager and guards believe you’re meeting with the King tonight, the King believes you’re with Aemond, Aemond believes you’re with Helaena, and Helaena cares not. When you begged her to stay tight lipped as you escape the castle for a brief night of living before your return, she gave you no more of a sweet nod before returning to her twins. 

Now, in the hour of the wolf, the blackest hour of the night, you board a ship; one that is said to fly a false green banner, as the crew are all holding steadfastly to their true Queen. It’s meant to be bound for Dragonstone if the whisperers of the city speak true..and there’s a spot waiting for you. 

“Ticket,” the inspector stops you. 

You look at him through your lashes, retrieving seven coins from your bag. Holding his hand in yours, you set all seven golden dragons in his palm, closing his fingers around them. 

“Seven blessings,” you nod. 

He looks at the money and then to you, realization hitting him. He nods as well, almost a bow, as he registers who you are. The doors are opened and you enter the boat, followed by two of your favorites.

“Honor means little to him,” Lucan says, “obviously.”

Vialy clings to your arm as the three of you thread through the crowds, searching for a compartment to sleep you on the journey to Dragonstone.

You correct him, your brows low and head lower as the cogs turn in your mind. “These men have got more honor in their cock alone than any in the Red Keep.”

You wonder how the Queen will accept you after your history, if she’ll see that you’re just as spiteful of the greens as she is. Though it matters not, for as the ship departs, the three of you are seated, prepared to do what it takes to never return to King’s Landing so long as a green sits on the throne.

[jolapeno]

I’m embarrassed to ask but so many fav’s are going there so how do you use ao3?

hello hello!

do not be embarrassed at all! and hopefully, i can try and help.

now, i wish to preface this by saying there's likely guides already on tumblr and i don't mean to be rehashings what they might already say/have shared, but I'm going to try and give a run down of things that might help. now, I've done this as if you're a reader, but if you're a writer and want help, pop back in!

I asked my good friend @toomanytookas for help with this one so I knew we was covering off a lot and she lovingly helped me with finding some additional resources to support my bits!

searching for your people

there are a few different search options available on AO3 to find the things you want. if you know the name of the user, you can use the search bar (as seen below).

or if you're after a certain pairing, you can use the search option.

you can then search from: works, bookmarks, tags or people.

i tend to use "works" but, others may have their own preferences. but i find this is the easiest way for me to find the things i'm after.

i don't tend to fill in every bit of info, but the ones i do are in 'work tags':

fandoms

relationships

additional tags

i might check 'single chapter' (in work info) if i just want to read a one shot, but most of the time i just see what spits up. for me, additional tags is what makes navigating AO3 so much easier because I can filter by a trope (friends to lovers, colleagues, second chances) or i can filter by a "mood" (smut, fluff etc.). when you've filled in your desired bits you can click search and then your results will show.

ANOTHER great way to search is if you already know the pairing you're after. so say you're reading a Francisco morales x reader and you want MORE of that, click that tag on a piece of work and a new search will show up of all the works with that pairing.

you then have a new filter choice on the right where you can 'exclude' tags or characters too.

there's also this guide i found from 2020!

there’s also this way of searching too! with an addition from @burntheedges

another cool resource on excluding too

-

2. supporting your people

so, you've found yourself a writer you adore, and you've read a piece of their work. if this is a one shot, you can:

drop a kudos (like a like, but you can only ever give it once)

leave a comment (even writing "love it" or an emoji makes a day)

bookmark (this is more for you if you loved it, you can bookmark things and they save to YOUR bookmarks and you can read again without searching for it - like a lil library)

now, say that piece is a multi-chap/collection, and you want to subscribe and be notified, you can 'subscribe' at the top of the fic

bookmarks do not notify you of a new chapter, but a subscribe will.

if you love the writer and want to know as soon as they drop anything, you can click their name, go to their profile and click 'subscribe' just under their name in the top right.

here’s a resource too!!

here’s a resource on why bookmarks/comments are cool

-

3. going back in time... the AO3 way

okay, we've all been there when you're engrossed in something and then life happens and you close a tab or your phone crashes (tumblr app, grr) and then the work is lost. on AO3, if you're logged in, you have a thing called 'my history' and in this is every work you've clicked on. wahay! this has saved me so often because i flick between phone and laptop a lot.

-

4. a final thing to be aware of...

warnings - a writer can choose to give a warning to the piece. many will use 'creator chose not to use archive warnings' or 'no archive warnings apply', but there are a few to keep an eye out for, such as:

graphics depiction of violence

major character death

rape/non-con

underage

'choose not to use warnings' is a read at your own risk, and i always recommend checking out the additional tags for the piece just so you know if there's any trigger warnings.

a resource on excluding (mentioned above too)

-

this is just a top level thought process of what i thought might help, but if there's any specific questions i will deffo try to help. this resource has a ton of helpful things too. there's also AO3 FAQs which might be able to help if i didn't actually help. and this absolutely brilliant guide created too!

thank you for the ask, and happy AO3'ing 🧡

[jinitak]

Rant about the book Jom is reading

The book Jom is reading from is Khan Chang Khan Phaen, a Thai literary classic. It is folklore from Siphon Buri and was only written down long after it was conceived.

The story by modern standards is quite problematic, I have summarised the story below but there is a TL;DR below this paragraph;

Khun Phaen (previous name, Phlai Kaeo), Wan Thong (previous name, Pham Phi La Lai) and Khun Chang were childhood friends, Shun Chang is handsome whilst Shun Phaen is balding. Wan Thong would fall in love with Khun Phaen and Khun Chang would fall in love with Wan Thong and they marry but he was sent to command an army to Ching Mai. During his absence, Khan Chang came up with a scheme to get Wan Thong to marry him, by lying that Khun Phaen was killed in action, it worked and Wan Thong was unwillingly married to him. When Khun Phaen came back, he found what happened and tried to get Wan Thong back, despite him finding a wife in Chiang Mai already. He kidnap Wan Thong from Khan Chang, getting a 3rd wife in process. Each side would kidnap Wan Thong back and fourth a couple times which led to a trial by Phra Phanwasa (meaning the Queen mother), the matriarch of the Kingdom, which ended in Wan Thong being executed for not wanting to commit to either men.

TL;DR a woman gets stuck in a love triangle between a man she loved which betrayed her trust and a man she didn't love who treated her well but their relationship was based on lies. In the end she was executed for not committing to a relationship. (Who could blame her to be honest)

Parts of this epic is actually mandated in Thai schools (I had this for one of my Thai midterms, lol) and in the education system, they focus on the literary rather than the historical context behind the epic.

Many scholars such as Sujit Wongthes believe that this epic is actually a story about a fictional hero of the Suphannaphum Kingdom, one of the kingdoms that would become Ayutthaya in the 14th century. The Suphannaphum dynasty would rule Ayutthaya for much of its early history, which might explain how the story is so widespread.

Sujit believes that many aspects of the epic is representative of the early history of the Suvarnabhumi (not the airport) region, such as

Khun Phaen being a name for the Hindu god of creation, Brahma

Khun Phaen's magical sword, the "Fa Fuen" is named after an ancestral god of the Nan and Luang Prabang region.

When presenting the "Fa Fuen" to Phra Phanwasa, she placed it next to the Chai Si sword, which is representative of the Lao-Khmer origins of Ayutthaya.

All in all, Sujit argues that this folklore is more rooted in the ruling classes than the popular folk. This analysis of Khun Chang Khun Phaen is not present in the episode though, as this would ruin the mood of it so much.

But its inclusion even though it seems out of place (Suphan Buri is in the central parts of Thailand whilst the story is set in the north), is actually not that weird. In the period of the series, Bangkok has just had a major reforms to local administration, ditching the Mandala system in favour of western style centralisation based on colonial administration in the Dutch East Indies. This had the effect of Bangkok suppressing Lanna culture and a "Siamisation" of Lanna. Yai's family who I presume is local administrators sent from Bangkok shows this very cleary, he doesn't try to blend in with locals, he speak the central (Siamese) tongue and reads Siamese literature.

The inclusion of this epic rather than using something most Thai people already know to create the scene, it also creates the historical backdrop in which the series is set.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk. I might talk about Sunthon Phu, which Yai recited whilst drunk and also talk about the historical context behind the series too. Please tell me if you are interested.

[misscammiedawn]

You may have discussed it before, but would you mind speaking a little bit on how you discovered you have DID?

I feel like I have a pretty stable core identity but there have been times under intense stress where I’ve experienced sudden “switches” in my personality. During a particularly bad period for a little over a year there was a time where I distinctly felt like a different person and did things I wouldn’t normally do, and I remember the specific moment where I came back into my body and became “me” again. This doesn’t happen often, but it has happened more than once throughout my life. When I see people talk about plurality I feel a little confused because their identities often seem to have their own names and genders and ages and backstories, and it seems so cut-and-dry.

I know these are all things to discuss with my therapist but I love how you talk about your own experiences. How can you differentiate between DID and other kinds of dissociation?

Thank you for asking, anon! I'm glad you are going to talk to your therapist about it while also doing the reading and reaching out-- heaven knows our own journey within the US mental healthcare system was rocky at best. The latest chapter of Madison/Belladonna is heavily sourced from IRL circumstances both in receiving the diagnosis and the decades long journey in the mental healthcare system to get there.

But to answer more directly-- (as always we are answering from a psychopathology lens for care and treatment, we recognize the beauty of plurality and do not reduce ALL experiences to mental healthcare concerns, we are approaching our own situation and experiences this way as it is how we lived it)

Our journey was guided from the outside. Both therapists and our partner who was able to see these "mood swings" in us were able to gently guide us to water despite our fierce denial and rejection of our situation. What started as "we're fine" turned to "mood swings" turned to "BPD" turned to "---maybe we should read up on OSDD?" Turned to our current therapist telling us over a year ago that we had DID after months of testing and interviewing to determine.

I should also note I likely realized it MULTIPLE times in my history and buried it again and again. I legitimately think that people in my former life knew and either assumed I knew too or worse I had told them and forgot that I told them. It worries me because I cannot ever be certain. I once asked my ex-wife about it after the divorce/diagnosis and she did say it was weird how she had a "different husband" depending on environment and social group. She said she never noticed it during the interactions, but she would always think back and feel that the "me" in any given moment was different from the ones she observed in social/work situations etc.

So like--- even if people notice, sometimes they don't even realize what they're seeing. Honestly I go full No Mask at work even when a male part fronts and no one really bats an eye. I don't think *most* people are as observant as we worry they are.

ANYWAY! Looking back these are the signs that I ignored:

- I not just wrote a consistent journal through every phase of my life (even going as far as to have a "memory list" that I populated "when I felt like it" (<- IE: when a part that associated with the memory was fronting and wanted to type about it) and more importantly I READ it. Often. I sometimes think that the majority of our memories are just imagined versions of what we wrote. That notion is helped by the fact we [used to] stop journaling during times of crisis or delete journal/chat log to prevent us thinking about distressing things.

- I wrote a lot of plural characters in my stories since my teenage years. Kinda like I kept writing female versions of myself? Funny how the Trans and DID acceptance arcs are so dang similar.

- I would emotionally cave in on myself after gatherings, berating myself for how I had acted all evening. Getting deeply upset at how "out of control" I was. We outright AVOID mood altering substances like alcohol or weed.

- When talking about traumatic memories we typically just tell the story rote. It doesn't bother us. We told therapists without batting an eyelid. This is dissociation. We were disconnecting ourselves from our memories. Emotionally distancing ourselves from the experiences.

- In the same vein, when we remember things we imagine things in locations like a 3rd person camera. Not populated. We don't hear or feel or associate. It's just a place and a knowledge. Our whole "context packet" thing where we just understand something without *feeling* it.

- Deleted emails and chatlogs, references to things we don't remember. Discord messages with people we don't remember talking to. It bothers me how many people in our online communities we were actually close to at some stage of our life and then erased. This is specific to us but Dawn has opened many accounts in the hypnokink community and Camden has shut them down and this has happened so many times that we don't even get upset when we find a buried email from 2013 with sign-up to a Yahoo Email account we don't remember having. That sounds dramatic. It's more just. Go into your emails, pull stuff up from 5-10 years ago and just scroll a while. See how much you remember and associate into. It's NORMAL to forget what websites you were browsing a decade ago. It's not normal to have an entire *LIFE* you hid from yourself.

- Sometimes people just... saw/knew us before we did and there were times when they would describe a version of us they weren't supposed to see and we got complete dysphoria over it. Sometimes it as joyful. Someone we love saw Cammie well enough to say when we transitioned that they wanted to see that "windswept girl with the big smile" all of the time. Sometimes it's mortifying, like when someone approaches Camden as if she is Dawn and Camden REJECTED that side of us so heavily that it caused emotional meltdowns and turmoil because Camden didn't WANT to be a sexy confident domme, she could barely see herself as a woman, when people saw the wrong version of us *without permission* it was just a violation that made things WORSE.

- On that note-- meltdowns-- we mentioned the whole "after a social gathering we'd emotionally cave in on ourselves" thing, there was a lot of that. After work we'd get a complete drop from having to be in Manager Mode all day or we'd have a crisis after erotic intimacy encounters because we're sex repulsed ace. The fact is our nervous system was activated during those times, our survival instincts were kicked in and brought the part associated to the surface to DEAL and when they backed off our body was still reacting to the trauma trigger and it would cause us to implode.

All of these things in therapy brought us to the conclusion of BPD. Because therapists be like that at times. A *TRAUMA* therapist gave us some DES-II, MID and ACE tests and worked out what was going on within 3 months.

It took a further 6-9 months with constant support from loved ones who were able to see us as individuals to *ACCEPT* it. This is a denial disorder, it doesn't want to be found. Asking questions, being honest and being accepting is the best way to come to terms with it. I wish it were easier and I wish you luck and support in your journey. Our inbox is always open!

You're not alone <3

[cupparosielee]

Rewatching The Newsreader S2E1 and I need to have a rant about the double standard in Gerry flirting with Helen vs flirting with Dale. It got to me the first time, but watching it back it's such a stark contrast and it really hurts to see.

When Dale asks Helen if there's history with her and Gerry, Helen brushes it off as nothing. She just laughs it off.

It's a non-event. She makes a joke of it, even seems to enjoy the fact that Dale is feeling jealous, and moves on.

Then at the end of the episode when Dale is laughing at the idea that Gerry seemed to be flirting with him, the mood is totally different.

He starts out all casual and lighthearted, just laughing with his partner about someone flirting with him. It's not a big deal. As Helen has already established, other people flirting isn't something to worry about, and Gerry is a notorious flirt anyway so this shouldn't be A Thing.

But Helen responds in such a serious tone immediately. She's so concerned right away, and she refuses to let it go when Dale tries to reassure her. She jumps to conclusions, offering an open relationship she absolutely doesn't want and Dale has never asked for. She gets upset and Dale has to be the one to reassure her.

And you can see it's hurting him. He sighs and deflates as soon as she questions him, and he looks genuinely upset that he's having to justify himself when all he was doing was joking about how someone else was acting with him. He didn't even do anything.

I can't read this as anything other than Helen feeling deeply insecure, and that insecurity being rooted in biphobia. The idea of the greedy bisexual. Believing a relationship with a woman couldn’t possibly be enough for Dale, so even the slightest bit of attention from a man sets her on edge. And that feels so shitty, not just because it's a lot of misplaced anxiety being pushed onto Dale, but also because Helen knows how much Dale struggles with his sexuality. She's seen how hard it is for him to understand and accept in himself. So by making a big deal out of it, turning a tiny moment into a major discussion like this, she's only reinforcing the shame he has already attached to his sexuality.

These scenes work so well to show the cracks in their relationship, and to remind us as an audience that while they have spoken about Dale's sexuality, neither of them has actually accepted it. It's hanging over them constantly. Sam and Anna play these scenes brilliantly, they both say so much with their expressions and make every word of the script mean so much.

[backboneofthevees]

VELVETTE HEADCANNONS!

Not my usual post, but I thought I'd share! Have fun reading :)

♡ (if it wasn't obvious enough) She's a lesbian! I love the little girl-liker third wheel to a mlm couple (vox and val) her and the other vees have going on, plus the velvette x verosika art i see is ALWAYS so beautiful!

♡ referring to this post below:

She owns corsets (yet doesnt use them much because LOOK AT THAT WAIST), and one or two have definitely been stolen....by both of her male conterparts.

♡ She sews! Not ALL the time, since she's busy doing things like running shows and doing photoshoots, but I feel like it'd be a little something nice to do in her free time. Blasting some music while tailoring a new coat or something.

♡ She only wears the same colors. I know this is a little obvious from the few outfit changes she has in the show, but imagine it. A large walk-in closet filled with ONLY pink, purple, white and black. (And perhaps a singular green christmas sweater.) They're not ALL just dresses and jackets, she has pants and t-shirts too. She just likes to dress femme and throws in a masc/more casual outfit from time to time.

♡ She has a diverse music taste. I might me self-projecting here a bit, but I think it'd be pretty cute to see hee listening to different types of music. Like listening to something metal/punk when wearing an 'emo' outfit (one thst consists of mostly black) or some pop/r&b when dressing up in her normal dress-and-tights- combo. It helps her get in the mood.

♡ She has a close relationship with Vox and Valentino. This is also shown in the actual show, seeing how docile they are around eachother, but I imagine the boys and Vel having a brother-sistertjust generally close relationship, like Val and Vel would talk shit and go shopping one day or Vox and Vel talking about the shoots they're doing/planning on doing and having their nails done together. (Painting Vox's claws or sharpening them since he doesn't really have nails.)

♡ She's a little nerdy. I'm not talking about book-nerd, more likke a genuinely-invested-in-fashion-and-knows-about-its-history nerd. Like she'll read up on magazines or articles about how the kitten heel came to be or fun facts about the creator of a specific clothing brand she likes. She doesn't bring it up often, more of a random thing she'll drop into a conversation to keep it going. Also, since she's on her phone all the time, I think she'd be a little bit of a tech wiz like Vox. Like he'll give her a prototype for a new V-Phone and ask her about any bugs or special features. She'll evaluate it and Vox would give her his credit card for a day as a thank you.

♡ She has a major sweet tooth. I'm not saying she's constantly eating candy, given her figure and those crisp pearly whites, but whenever she's going out she'll get a milkshake or perhaps a little sweet treat at a local bakery. Not nicely, but still.

♡ Her full name, when she was still alive, was Veronica Barbie Hernandez, hinting at a latina/mexcian background. Her friends usually called her by her middle name or just Barb, since she had (and still does) such an affliction for having cute outfits and wearing pink. (I might draw her aswell as the rest of the vee's as humans, who knows)

♡ She has a doll body. This is a bit of a short one, but since she's based of a doll like Vox is a TV and Valentino is a moth, she has a plastic-y, smooth doll body. Specifically a ball-jointed doll body. (She can also pop off her limbs and/or head with little to no pain, using it to scare the boys during halloween or whenever she feels like it.)

♡ She's in her early 30s-late 20s, Vox and Val being around 30-40.

♡ She has 2 cats, one white cat named PomPom, and one tabby cat named Spike.

♡ Her favorite musicals are Heathers and Hairspray. (heathers fans hmu)

♡ Despite being known as 'the girly one', she grew up with 2 brothers. Both are dead and are running around somewhere in Hell, probably.

♡ She helps pick out outfits for the boys, despite them wearing (like almost every other male character) suit-like attire. She LOVES trying on dresses with Val, though.

♡ She goes out often. To shop, get food, get drunk, or to just walk around town and blog for her live feed. God forbid you bump into her though, especially if she's holding a drink (or just anything that could spill on her/something expensive she bought dropping onto the ground). She'll EXPLODE.

That's all for now! Feel free to ask for more or just anything else <3

[thedivinecove]

Some Gods I worship and what they're like (UPG)

In my craft, I end up having VPG backing my UPG as I study history and religion as my major. I am oathsworn to these deities, so I worship and work with them almost every day (they each get a day)

Poseidon:

Poseidonas, Potedion

He is very chill and kind yet has a side to him that loves to debate. He gets passionate about certain things, which can sometimes seem like anger, but you will know when he's angry (earth shaker deity). He loves his kids but can sometimes get caught up like with Zeus. He also loves his wife and siblings. He loves demeter a lot as well, which makes sense as she was the original wife, most likely.(In multiple mythologies,Eleusis mysteries,and Linear B-A tablets. Boetian mythology and others. She may have been posedinia in mycnean myths) He loves wife Amphitriti a lot. He is enthralled by her. For Poseidon, it's good to remember he isn't just associated with water, so for me, I see him all around. He works with Demeter for plants (found out that was actually a holiday on an island and epithet of him that's fertility of water plants). He also loves storms, ecology, and animals of all types. He loves seeing his devotees happy and healthy.

Zeus

Zefs, O' dias βασιλιά μου

Zeus is an amazing deity. He has a personality that is head strong but also very kind and gentle, depending on his mood and epithet. He is very much so a father figure to all those he loves. I participate in Hieros Gamos with him so I dont really see him as a "Father" to me but i worship him as the father to all.

He loves all his kids endlessly, including the gods' demi gods and more. He loves his siblings similar to Poseidon, but Poseidon is much more vocal about that. Zeus is also very shy with his feelings at times and tries to pretend he is always okay. He wants to be seen as the king, but to Hera and those he loves, he can be a giant teddy bear. He is similar to Poseidon as he wasnt married to his wife right away, so he does care for those who gave him his kids as well.Hera unlike in myths doesnt hate his other lovers, as she knows she means everything to him and she is his as he is hers. He loves politics, tiny dogs for some reason, and of course, storm tracking.

Hera

Ira, Βασίλισσα μου

Hera is a kind yet scary goddess. She is a role model and someone a lot of people would want to be. She is head strong, passionate, and truly is the "king." Her and Zeus have a powerful dynamic unlike others based on myths in their generational tree (Gaia and Ouranos =chaos and so on in myths). Hera is very vocal about things she dislikes, and she is very good at reminding people what she wants or what she is promised. Similar to other gods, she has other sides. Hera is one goddess that, for me, can balance those sides very well, and there tend not to be a massive difference . She is motherly as well as powerful. She may be strict, but it still feels motherly. She will never yell unless it's needed (maybe at Zeus..) She enjoys the beach, cloud watching, small animals, and birds.

ଳThat's all for todayଳ

[yandere-wishes]

Opinion on the absolute ANCIENT history of Star Wars legends? Meaning Tulak Hord, Marka Ragnos and such

Anon I am SO SO SO SORRY this took me forever to answer. I loved the ask so much that I wanted to have the perfect mood and ambiance for when I answered it. Suffice it to say that that hasn't happened for a good while now. But I sincerely hope that you are still lurking around this blog and get a chance to see my response. I cannot express how excited this ask has made me!! I harbor an extremely unhealthy obsession with ancient Sith lords and their lore

I'm going to start off by saying that, if we were in the Star Wars universe I would have already become a Sith lord. Due SOLELY to how much Darkside lore I read~🖤❤️

I swear whenever I see a new Sith lord my brain goes: "Omg he's so ugly." Then he proceeds to live in my head rent-free for three days and on the third night, I find myself dreaming of making out with him... this has happened one too many times...It might be a little bit concerning. XD

Tulak Hord gives off major samurai vibes so I feel like he does follow some sorta Sith honor code. That being said he most likely acquires his darling as either a war trophy from some rival or conquered planet. Or she's a wide-eyed Acolyte who he can twist into his perfect darling. 

He's also so pretty and I want to kiss him so badly!!

 I'd love to be his little darling, a war trophy won in battle. Kept locked away within his fortress. A prize none but him are worthy to see. 

After each bloody campaign, he returns to you, his starlight. A dividend that keeps him fighting, keeps him tethered to the dark side of the force. He fights to provide you with an empire, to win your praises at his many accomplishments. 

 Little does he know of the aversion you harbor for him.

Tulak Hord the monster who took everything from you.  

No, but to be fair, I'd still be MADLY in love with him. Just imagine Lord Hord coming home from the battlefield, bloodied and still high off his bloodlust. 

Imagine straddling him as you lovingly peel off his bloodied armor. Kissing his flesh every time it appears from under his armor. He'd run his clawed gauntlets over your back tracing your spine. Making you shiver from the frigid steel. Your warmth feels welcoming, innocent, he longs to corrupt it. 

Then obviously kissing when you get to his helmet. Deep and passionate. Filled with hate and love. Out of fear, you've learned to play your role as a doubtful lover, a devoted wife, to a fault. 

"The universe is more complicated than you could ever imagine, starlight. Be thankful that I've shielded you away from all its inconsistencies."

It's getting harder and harder to remember why you resist him so much. Why push him away when his presence is so overwhelming? Consuming you wholly. 

"Thank you, my lord." 

NOW...

If you were his Acolyte things would play out a bit differently. He'd have trained you for so many years. Building you up to be the ultimate weapon and simultaneously his ideal darling. You're too far gone, mistaking toxins for affection. You've learned to cherish every bruise and broken bone that comes from him.

You were such a naive little girl when he first took an interest in you. Now he's morphed you into the scourge of the battlefield. The mere mention of your name sends generals running away in fear. 

He finds you after every campaign. Permits you the honor of washing his armor and tending to his wounds. Basking in the way your nimble fingers apply bacta to what little scars he may have received. 

Tulak is such a tremendous master. Personally seeing to your wellbeing and recovery. 

He pulls you onto his lap, kissing your open wounds as he stitches them for you. Sometimes he pulls his helmet up and plunges his tongue into the trauma lapping at the blood and broken muscles as he ravishes in your delightful moans. He'll whisper sweet praises into your ears, telling you how proud he is of all you've accomplished, what a stupendous sith lord you shall make someday, ruling by his side. All while his iron-clad fingers work bruises into your soft flesh. 

You are his perfect little doll.

Tulak Hord's perfect little acolyte.

Would it be wrong to say that I kinda want to be Marka Ragnos' concubine? Or just his pretty little princess who's always at his beck and call!! Look he's literally a giant hulking red alien with golden horns... what's not to love!! 

Plus I'd give anything to just sit on his lap as he holds court. Tracing patterns across his chest and relishing in the feeling of his claws scraping across your flesh, leaving his mark even when he's focused on galactic domination. 

Prior to that Marka would totally dress you in the most ethereal dresses!! All lavish golds and blood reds. Somedays they'd be full-blown multilayered dresses and other days (when he wants to show a bit more dominance) he'll have you wearing danity silk dresses that show more skin than you are comfortable with. 

He'd also shower you with praises throughout the day. Calling you his "sweet little princess" and "pretty girl". look getting called "pretty girl" by a sith lord is free therapy and I am HERE for it😤😍😤😍. 

I also have this random headcanon that Marka Ragnose is (in some ways) a father figure to Vitita/Valkorion/Tenebrae. That being said it's only logical for Marka Ragnos' darling to be (younger) Vitita's mother figure. In a twisted forceful way, they're kinda like a happy family. Also forced Yandere family is one of my fav tropes, so I had to reference it here lol. 

Okay, guys seriously this ask has made me so happy since the MOMENT I got it!! If anyone wants to send in asks for any Star Wars Sith lords (well-known ones, obscure ones, hated/loved ones) my ask box is wide open. 

In conclusion, I've been collecting Sith Lords to simp over like an 8-year-old collects Pokemon cards. Sith lords are unconventionally HOT and I'd totally be down to be there sweet little darling !! Like please just let me be a Sith Lord's cute little side piece, the eye candy that hangs off his arm. His pretty little bunny girl that'll do anything to please him.

(*Concerningly looks down at the pride and self-respect I just smashed.* "Whoops...that wasn't supposed to happen") 

Anon I think I answered your question with these little stories. I am very much IN LOVE with the ancient Sith lords. And it doesn't just stop at Tulak and Marka. I literally NEED a harm of Sith lords. Look they may not be conventionally handsome, but there's something about "the dark forces warping their appearance" that makes me go absolutely feral!! 🤣🤣😍😍