#and also may not know how to go about it but at least before her time in pandoria it would always be after bad moments and when she is alone

[stariiesz]

୨⎯𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝙰𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ⎯୧

May 28th, 2017

“I… I like you Satoru.” The words fell out of your mouth suddenly.

It was the last day of high school. A bittersweet chapter in your life. Satoru, who had been your long-time crush, was perfect. Everybody loved him, and could you blame them? After all, He was popular, attractive, athletic, and very extroverted. He was everything you weren’t. You weren’t exactly popular, you were bad at sports, and you were very introverted.

He was so nice to everyone. Everyone that is but you. And you're not sure why he seems to hate you, he just does. Every time he sees you in the hallway he scoffs and rolls his eyes as if you're the bane of his existence. And because of Satoru’s open dislike for you, it influenced others to not like you too.

Not many people wanted to talk to you or hang out. The few times you had interaction with other class mates was for cheating of you or for school projects, not that they wanted to partner with you by choice. Sure you were kind of an outcast but it never really bothered you. You could care less what your other low-life classmates thought. Only one opinion mattered, and that was Satoru’s of course. Though, you were quite sure that man could care less about you.

So why were you now confessing such feelings to Satoru? You knew you weren’t going to see him again after high school, and you didn’t want to keep these feelings hidden away forever, so you devised a plan. You were going to walk up to him, confess, then bail before he could laugh at your pathetic feelings for him. It did take a lot of courage as you were stepping out of your comfort zone, but you needed him to know how you felt even if he didn’t feel the same which he probably wouldn’t. Even though he and his friends would laugh every time you walked by, and even though you were nowhere near his league, you still liked him. So you would give it a chance.

April 12th, 2017

You applied for a bunch of colleges in Japan and got in a few. However, Kyoto University is the one that you want to go to most. You were very excited to go because that was the college Satoru was going to, meaning you had a chance of running into him from time to time! You were feeding into your own delusions because if that ever did happen, Satoru wouldn’t have a change of heart and start liking you. He’d be just as rude and probably ignore you too. But a girl can dream, right?

While walking through the halls of the dreaded place called school, you happen to overhear a conversation between Satoru and some of his friends which completely change the plans you had made.

“Yeah, I got into a bunch!” Satoru said to his friends. “I really wanted to go to Kyoto and all but now I think I wanna go to the University of Tokyo!” Satoru said.

Your heart dropped. If he wasn’t going to Kyoto that meant you had no chance of seeing him in college. So these could be the last few weeks you could see him. Even though he despises you, being at the same college gave you a chance to at least see him. But now that was ruined.

“Oh Satoru, you’re going to the University of Tokyo too?” Adina asked as she put her hands on his broad shoulders. Adina was not very fond of you at all. She would even take it as far as to purposely bump into you just to humiliate you, but once again, it really didn’t bother you.

Adina turned to give you the nastiest look. “Uhh can we help you?” She asked you with an annoyed tone. At this point, Satoru was also staring at you. You ignored her comment and continued walking along.

As you walked the cold realization of him not going to the same college set in. This made you think of some way to see him after school ended. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind. So if you weren’t gonna see him after school ended the least you could do was confess and get these feelings you’ve had since freshman year out, right?

May 28th, 2017

Satoru was cleaning out his locker and signing the yearbooks of the usual classmate. You waited for the small crowd by him to die down so you could talk to him. When he noticed you come up. He rolled his eyes and scoffed upon seeing you. “What do you want?” He sighed as he put another textbook in a bag and eyed your figure.

You ignored his attitude as you were used to it and cleared your throat as you gathered up all the courage you had to confess. It was now or never. This could, no it probably would be the last time you had a chance to talk to Satoru. So you had to do it.

“I… I like you Satoru..” You said, feeling the relief after getting the confession of your chest. “And I know.. I know you don’t feel the same, I know I annoy you for some reason but I just..I needed to tell you before we go our separate ways.”

He was caught off guard when you confessed. He stopped mid-action turning over to you with a confused look on his face. His eyes widened upon hearing your confession. He opened his mouth to speak but you ran off before he could reject you, or so you thought. Unbunonnced to you he tried to run after you.

“Hey wait up!” He called after you before he ran into his friend group.

“Hey man, where are you speeding off to?” His friend asked. “Come on, let's go get something to eat to celebrate!”

Satoru looked back to see if you were there but you were gone. He sighed and then turned back to his friends with a small smile.

“Sure.” He replied walking off with them.

May 29th, 2017

Graduation day.

It was awkward when you and Satoru met eyes during the ceremony. You quickly looked away but he kept staring which you weren’t aware of. After the ceremony, you met up with your family and tried to leave as quickly as possible as you didn’t want to run into Satoru. There was a party being hosted by one of the popular boys which a lot of people were attending, including Satoru, but you weren’t invited so you really had nothing more to stay for.

You glanced at him one more time before leaving. There he was, as beautiful as always. He was laughing with a group of friends and seeing that made you smile. He was happy and that was all that mattered in the end. You savored the moment as it would be the last time you would see Satoru Gojo in all his glory… right?

Master list Next chapter->

1.1k words

Banner creds: @cafekitsune

Next chapter coming soon!

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

DC

Living Slow by kathkin

“Was that like. For real your mom?”

“Yes, Billy,” said Superman, with unwavering patience. “That was my mom.”

Billy looked at him for a long moment. He said, “Why?”

“Why?” Superman echoed. “What – what do you mean, why?”

Billy shrugged. “It’s a pretty simple question.”

“Well,” said Superman. “Be that as it may, I got no idea how to answer it.”

In the face of an extraterrestrial threat they don't fully understand, with all their usual hide-outs compromised, the Justice League are forced to go to ground. Fortunately Superman has a remote location where they can regroup. Less fortunately, it comes with some baggage.

Genome by JpegDotJpeg

Being Tim Drake-Wayne’s trophy husband and full-time sugar baby was hard work, but not without its benefits. Kon had gotten very used to getting whatever he wanted with Tim around. Clothes, tuition money.

Babies.

BNHA

someone blessed by blueseam

“Would you like to make a bet?”

It’s delivered in the same polite, measured tone Todoroki uses for almost everything, which only makes the offer more unsettling.

“Uh.”

If it will make him go away, Hitoshi might consider it.

__

Todoroki bets Shinsou that he won’t last a week in Class 2A without making at least one friend. He’s pretty confident he’ll get the money.

Too bad Midoriya only knows how to make friends by hurting himself.

ATLA

the dry grass catches fire by Anonymous

"Shoichi," Zuko says quietly, fighting to keep his voice steady. "What happened to Izumi?"

Shoichi is milk-pale. He shuffles on the spot, then opens his mouth. Zuko watches his lips move, hears the sound of his voice, and somehow does not fall apart.

"She was taken, my Lord," Shoichi says, and—

Every torch in the palace goes out.

-

A failed assassination attempt on Zuko results in his daughter being kidnapped instead. Zuko will stop at nothing to get her back.

i'll come crashing by ohmygodwhy

Li's scar is suddenly all Jet can think about. The scar, the scar, the old man’s hot hands warming his tea like he thought he could get away with firebending in the middle of a crowd.

or: After getting to know Li on the ferry, Jet sees Mushi heat his tea. Instead of assuming Li is also a firebender, Jet assess the situation and comes to a rather different conclusion.

House MD

Intensive Care by LadyEliza

Chase is sick. House won't leave him alone. The diagnostics team at PPTH has two cases to solve…

Clone Wars

a river runs through it by vizslasaber

There is a kind of fear that is unique to a Jedi.

(Cody and Obi-Wan. A lesson in attachment.)

[prettyboykatsuki]

if its not too tmi, the guide to making your girl cum might still be useful 😭 my gf and i are both in our first relationship and any help would be welcome

i have so many asks fdjslk?? abt this. like no bullshit at all maybe fifteen. but sure 👍🏾 note i am no sex expert or really anyone u should listen to but you know. i get okay reviews

first things first - the most important thing is learning to communicate with your partner. ik u have heard that many times but every body is different and if you can take instructions well, making someone cum is much easier. like. people say it all the time for good reason but just focus on listening more than anything else

also im using woman / she + her but this advice applies to any afab people who are not currently talking T👍🏾 testosterone changes some stuff so i'd give diff advice on some parts abt touching n stuff

learning how to take an apply what ur told is truly like 99% of the game

for women in particularly - u should probably carve out a chunk of time. most women need at least 15 minutes if it's with a partner (often more) and if it's your first time tg it's good to take each other apart and get comfortable

also somewhat obvious but you absolutely cannot forgo foreplay. truly cannot be overstated but u can't. lol

if share the same parts, u are already at somewhat of an advantage as you have some ideas on where to touch etc. neck and chest are always safe bets, and so is inner thigh etc. deep kissing is always also a safe bet. don't overthink it too much, just do your best to communicate both appreciation and attraction

foreplay also starts before getting naked being genuine. undressing someone or showing sensual affection is your friend. ik this sounds corny but its very genuine advice lol

a lot of foreplay is both to build arousal but also getting someone out of their head. a lot of women in particular tend to get really hung up on various aspects of the process. if you can effectively get them out of that mindspace, you're already on your own way

sometimes dirty talk is good and dirty talk does not need to be crass - making sensual small talk can go a long way. praising how she looks or feels, showing your enthusiasm by telling you're looking forward to making her feel good.

thank you is also always safe in that process. thank you for letting me touch you, thank you for trusting me to make you feel good etc. and if you're not feeling confident - it does the same job as something more dirty lol

here is some more specific stuff 👍🏾

a lot of getting 2 know someone sexually is figuring out various sensitivities and pressure. generally speaking, women tend to lean one way or the other when it comes to pressure on different areas of the body for foreplay.

(usually of course, there is some mix of both - but at least in my experience there is more general lean one way vs another)

some people prefer softer touches and caressing and some people prefer more deep pressure and groping. always start on on the soft end and move towards the other slowly.

YOU WILL WANT TO LEARN INDIRECT VS DIRECT PLEASURE. ON YOUR PARTNER AND WHAT THEY PREFER !!!

some parts of a womans body are too sensitive to be touched directly, and they may highly prefer indirect contact as their choice of pleasure. if a womans clit is too sensitive, you might want to stimulate the area just around or underneath instead of directly touching their clit. use their clitoral hood as a buffer essentially.

the clit itself firms up but it's an entire area inside of your body. and what's exposed is just one nerve. its why touching or rubbing the sides can still make effective foreplay because internally the clit has a whole body etc

the hardest part about clitoral stimulation is reading reactions. but the clit will respond to pleasure physically most of the time. try things deliberately, and time your tongue or fingers in a way that lets you gauge their reaction

if someone is feeling good - you'll usually get a very faint throb. you have to look for it to notice it sometimes, but the intensity of that throbbing is what will tell you. clits are similar to dicks in that way

same thing goes for nipples usually. plenty of people like it being touched or sucked directly (again it is all abt sensitivity and pressure) - but it's common for the area to be too sensitive.

touching around, through / over the fabric of their top (this works better with non-silky materials / stuff with no slip), and underneath can also do the job. if the nipples are sensitive to the point of being unpleasurable - the swell underneath the boobs is often a good place to show affection. u can try running your fingers underneath to cup and squeeze instead. or just

the no slip thing is because rougher fabric give nice friction. being touched through cotton feels different from silk. its more hit or miss in my experience

im going to break down the advice about actual fucking into three parts so bear with me .

the most important thing for ALL of this is fucking consistency. listen to me im being so serious. when you hit a rhythm do not stop. ESPECIALLY if she tells you not too.

oral: this one is tricky because there's truly not a universally good way of eating pussy. it's like... four of the above skills wrapped in one skill. so even if i wanted to school you in i don't think i could lol

my best advice is to remember the above about pressure and sensitive and start slow. stimulate the surrounding areas with your tongue, do a lot of teasing. if she's too embarrassed to tell you things verbally, this will usually push her to showing you at least. if she bucks up against you that's a good sign to give a little more pressure.

building pressure is important here. she will feel pretty much every part of your tongue, so make sure you are careful and listen to what she says or does. when you find the rhythm to lick, it's normally safe to suck on her clit (from light pressure to deeper pressure like before)

you will know when you're hitting the right everything because it will start to pulse in your mouth and she will squirm more. when you're there, stay there and don't move unless you're going to die. learn to breathe through your nose lol

FOR PENETRATION THERE IS TWO THINGS. and most time you will still want to pair with clit stimulation but rmb 2 ask.

fingering: the vagina is one of those things that is very hit or miss. with fingering in particular. for most women, it feels better to have another person do it. and it's best combined with clitoral stimulation so it can often be a two-handed affair or used as a sidepiece to oral.

the most pleasure will be felt around the actual opening and against the gspot. the opening has a lot more sensitive which is why the thrusting motion feels good. the g-spot can also feel good, but keep in mind that a gspot orgasm is internal and can feel especially intense. so just be prepared for what reaction you might get and maybe getting pee-d on. or squirted on. or both.

finding the g-spot isn't complicated, it will feel a little textured and have a little more give. with enough arousal it will also be swollen and easier to find.. you will hear a lot about the come hither motion, but what you're actually doing is rubbing along the upper walls.

again, everyone is different but honestly - i've had good luck combining a thrusting motion with the rubbing motion. use your wrist to move so you don't get tired. you can pick what fingers to use but middle and pointer is go to, so you can angle your palm against their clit (in the instance you are just using your hands).

FOR SEX TOY PENETRATION:

dildos: if i tried to explain how the strap works we would simply be here all day, so i will be talking about the dildo as a separate appendage used with your hands and not as part of a strap-on. strap sex is too much of a science lmao

almost all of the time - using a dildo is trying to create the same stimulation as above with gspot pressure, but that's not the only way. there are several angles and those angles hit different things, so it's worth experimenting with this. but for internal orgasm and using dildos - you want to understand comfort and friction.

lube is your friend, but too much slip can make it feel like nothing so build up the lube slowly. some resistance can feel pleasurable and is often ideal. with dildo, you also want to keep in mind the rigidity and maybe buy a toy together. a dildo can be too hard or too soft depending on what it's made with

internal orgasms rely a lot on muscle tension and angling, as well as pace. everyone is different and there is once again no universal way but your best bet is a rhythmic, pushing up motion. if you're using a dildo on your partner, i recommend put a pillow underneath their spine for easier angling.

LAST BUT NOT LEAST, REMEMBER ALL ORGASMS ARE TENSION RELEASE.

you need to build tension to release it and keep tension to cum. the need for steadiness and rhythm comes from that. if you're wanting to make someone orgasm, some physical tension can really help - so asking your partner to grab your hair and hold onto your wrist can be helpful. giving their muscles something to flex and hold can redirect focus and help with intimacy so let her pull your hair or dig her nails in your back or grab your wrist. it will actually get u closer to the orgasm

remember most of all though to have fun and feel good together. sex isn't a performance, it's a mutual act of pleasure. too much pressure will kill your boner. good luck 🫡

[forgottenarias]

just some nonsense about aria i rambled about to get it out of my brain, i guess?

idk what this is but once again i went off on a tangent abt aria thanks to some influence from arthur ;) [honestly why can't i deep dive on all my characters like this rn]

Thinking about Aria pre conquering and her previous attachments-- I'd contemplated if she had some sort of tragic backstory, like there was a knight she'd sort of formed a bit of an attachment to leading up the invasion and he was killed in battle or smth along those lines, but I think her whole sense of being was SO wrapped up in being-- i'm not going to say Eilia's right hand necessarily bc i don't think she was doing tons of like... talking about policy or military issues or anything, but an important part of her life as the queen of Astaira. it sort of lead me to realize I don't think she's really had much in terms of romantic notions/courting/etc in her past? Part of that I think was just who she was-- pretty quiet and reserved and probably hiding somewhere w/ Aoife at social gatherings whenever possible! I remember Kate and I joked asp about the two of them having sort of useless husbands who just did their own thing while the women ran the country-- I don't think having a USELESS husband was her plan but she def sort of imagined a union/partnership (weirdly I don't think romance was playing into this vision of the future for her, despite the fact I think she's very much a closeted romantic!) husband who was intelligent, scholarly, and had his part in the running of Astaira-- so while she never imagined her sister would try to set up a political marriage for her, she def always assumed if/when that happened it would be something that made sense for Astaira. It was all very practical and sort of in line with that idea that Staffords are servants of Astaira. So she'd probably end up with the one who wasn't the worse and, if not at some point feeling SOME sort of romantic affection for him, at least they could be friends of sorts and share common interests have have children who, of course, would then be tasked with helping the crown and continuing the cycle on and on.

which i'm now realizing, sort of like his fear that no one will care for/love/be loyal/etc to him for just forHIM, Aria just never allowed herself to think that would be possible but, again, in a practical way?! like obviously everything goes back to what is best for astaira & helping her sister & carrying on the work of the stafford family, etc. (also i don't know if eilia realized that was sort of her worldview? i think its not anything she'd openly discuss with her sister honestly...)

BUT NOW there's this GUY who is almost in every way the antithesis of who she imagined herself ever being drawn towards-- like, if this were a bad early 2000's teen movie, she'd be the head of the debate team and he'd be the captain of (insert sport here) and WHY would they EVER even talk to each other?! haha! but then obvi she's seeing this different side of him that she expected to be there-- plus clearly SHE'S having some sort of affect on him and his thought process thanks to all their walks and talk/arguments ;) I think that's not something she's ever HAD before outside of her friendships (and while there is some sort of version of friendship there clearly its something else, what with the whole conquering/captor/flirt thing that's happening) and she just... likes how this is progressing? i think at first it was a "oh great-- more fuel for my fire of trying to worm my way into the good graces of the new regime and sow discontent from within!" but now she's making this real human connection and its scary and its annoying and its making her have all of these thoughts and see things as not black & white and she HATES that but also she is invested entirely now? and she may not have even realized it atp?!

all that being said there are still these little doubts that flair up-- which i think is sometimes part of the reason she reacts so angrily/aggressively at times (bc as we've discussed emotions are hard! don't think abou them in a healthy way!) I DO think every time she allows herself to think about "what is this connection, where is it going, what does it mean?" part of her is like "you're over complicating this-- there's probably some version of you in every castle/town/whatever this guy stops at w/ his deranged dad and you are NOT special and this is NOT different!" and i think some of that may be reinforced post Amira's Terrifying Tea Party when she figures out smth was happening w/ Eithne and she's like "oh okay, so that's his country lady he probably walks around w/ having some version of the same conversation!" (honestly the pair of them both having versions of 'oh, i thought this was something, guess its not..' is...so perfect) and she's like 'im obviously the lady entertainment when he's stuck in the castle!'

But then there are those moments where is DOES seem different and its enough to keep her coming back and trying to figure it out! i think hes right sometimes abt how she feels-- there were def moments where she's like "i want to hurt him, he deserves this, he could have stood up to his father and stopped this if he cared!" but i do think those have subded bc she realizes, again, this is not black and white and he actually has things he has to consider that SHE would consider, too! --namely his family!

plus, adding to that, there's everything I said about her realizing the manipulation is working-- i think she's confused if its working bc of ACTUAL feelings/emotions or if its working because he's kinda dumb and is just easily lead-- deep down she KNOWS its option one, hence why she feels the guilt about potentially doing something that would hurt him! and then adding in a rather, i think, fundamental shift in their views towards themselves/each other with his SHOCKINGLY DEEP AND INTROSPECTIVE confession about his views on his possible fate! i think beyond the whole "holy crap!" of the moment, it resonated w/ her in an unexpected way bc she's grappling with who she going to be in the world now that her whole purpose (helping Eilia as she rules Astaira!) has been taken away and while I think she's desperately trying to fill that void w/ her mission to save the guardians (also can we talk about the amount of pressure she is putting on HERSELF with this? oof), in the event there isn't a catastrophic event caused by the fall of the guardians, she doesn't know what her future is? is she stuck in this castle the rest of her life? does roderick finally off her when he's fed up with astaira being a problem? its not necessarily the same as arthur w/ his sole purpose in life to be emperor for his fate/his family's fate, but i think she sees some sort of connection there as well.

but now here we are and i realized that she's processing these emotions (poorly) on top of the 'you're a bastard, surprise!' announcement + amira's tea party so she's probably just... mad at arthur for reasons that aren't his fault + maybe has been ignoring him for awhile now? bc emotions & she doesn't want to hurt him & his father hurt her & did i mention... the emotions?

also if anyone made it this far WHY and I"M SORRY.

[albinokittens300]

SO. Since we are getting into promo time for season 2 and I am kinda late to this party, handful of theories I am down for. I don't think any of these are orignal speculation, as I've seen them most of them several different places but. Yea, general thoughts on how I am feeling about S2...so when it airs I can come back and cringe at myself XD.

-No way Caitlyns mom survived unfortunately.

-Viktor and Mel probabbly lived, but in extremely rough shape. Enough to isolate Jayce and opening him up to being manipulated by Ambessa.

-Yea Ambessa is 100% gonna be the one pulling the strings through Jayce at least at the beginning.

-I don't know if I feel like Caitlyn is gonna get to become sherif by the end of this season like she is meant to end up becoming. If she does, it's gonna be at the end, imo. Though I imagine Vi will end up becoming an enforcer by the end.

-Sevika probably has taken most of the power and influence SIlco had for the time being. I imagine her thing is gonna be getting all them chem barons to work as a unit to actually stand a chance to fight Piltover whenever they attack. Because they will.

-Jinx most definitely is gonna keep confronting people. I mentioned before Ekko feels like the natural next name on her list. But I think Sevika will be seeing her face pritty soon as well. Singed may also be on there somewhere because of the shimmer infusion situation. Point being I don't think Jinx is going to be hiding out. Her twisted tea party seemed like the beginning.

-Ekko will be creating the the Z drive in the first few episodes, and probably finish it by the second or third. I have a whole think I want to post about my thoughts on just how much the firelights are gonna be joinning in the conflict. But that is an entire post on it's own.

-I want to think Hiemerdinger may risk going to see if he can't talk Jayce down at the point he sends everything at the undercity. Maybe. Or he is gonna throw everything into beefing up the undercity as much as possible.

WHEW okay. A lot lol. Again, these are just speculation I got so give me some grace XD. Put out mostly for enjoyment while everyone is waiting, and to laugh at myself later on.

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

Hello may 31th anon! Look at that, another year behind us and a new one to come. Have a nice day! ₍՞◌′ᵕ‵ू◌₎♡

[lecliss]

I'll never be able to take the theory that Vincent is Sephiroth's real father seriously cuz I cannot stress enough how important I think it is to the plot that Vincent wanted to fuck Lucrecia and did not get to.

[toruq]

I feel like every time sso writes Anne’s dialogue they have to make her say some cheesy thing about how shes ready to move on.(first problem u don’t just move on from trauma it always remains part of you).. right after showing her ‘moving on’ (ex training a horsey!) and give her bits to say about her ‘moving on’ (ex photoshoots with derek!) but her long insightful bs always ends in the same shit about how she wants to rid of her bitterness and realize her own inner beauty or something like that and i’m kinda like Ok well you’re doing that already  girl. I wanna see her fuck up and then say these things, like “damn, i totally blew up at linda just then. Mc, i really want to be a better friend” rather than “man, look at all my recent accomplishments. I regret everythign I did in the past and i want to be a better person.” I personally think it more sends this message of a kind of toxic positivity that either ignores completely or hyperbolizes all wrongdoings and creates more self-pity than real optimism. even tho i think it’s sso’s weird form of redundant teaching for little kids to gain self confidence. 

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[vogelmeister]

one of the worst things i have ever done in the name of art is decide that the final monologue would be in poorly written dutch and then have to translate that into English and then decide how you’re going to display this bc its way too much dutch for the little footnotes you have been including when a character does use a dutch word but also you also like,, need to translate this into english so now you have an appendix and that's way too fancy but it's still in Dutch and you still need to put it in English and it's not even hard Dutch like its basic yet your head hurts still looking at it even though you know what you did and what you wrote and words are hard and you simultaniously know and don't know and this long ramble is exactly how your brain was operating at the time so yay. me.

[darkclouud9]

hi hi hi hi. so I have a unique worldbuilding piece that uses soul marks. all it basically does is tie one's soul to one-three animals. these animals typically change the appearance of the person's soul, making them hybrids.

some souls have unique things about them (that I will eventually make). I think the only one I have something for so far is that ghast soul marks can not be removed. you can remove ghast skin, but not the actual soul mark. but, soul marks don't do anything except glow in the dark and just signify that one has those markings.

usually, all soul marks are hidden anyway, but depending on how heavy the clothing is, the glow can show through.

also yes, a lot of the soul marks are based on the animal/mob they are. I used a lot of the ear shapes for them.

also shush, I just realised I forgot the creeper soul mark. I'll do it soon.

sadly, I don't have anyone for squid, because Etho is the only one I've even remotely thought of squid for, but since he's a shapeshifter, he doesn't count. also forgot to put Xisuma under strider...

some clusters I don't know how to name, so instead they just get triple named oops.

[merkerlerspeaks]

betty had already been planning for a trip the next week prior to deciding to help simon and had time to pack and make some kind of plan before running off with simon to find the enchiridion and that impulsive decision is not comparable to simon getting on (or not getting on) a bus with her for a 6 month trip to another country with no amount of time to plan or prepare. Even if it's something Betty would have done (maybe it is maybe it isn't since again she had already had time to prepare for a trip prior to her on-the-spot decision to run off with him) it's an illogical and reckless thing to do and it's not in Simon's personality and that's okay. I wouldn't have gotten on the bus in his position either. That is even if he had the option to go with her since it was an opportunity extended to her (not him).

[rubysparx]

Honestly I don't think I'm qualified to make this post, I just don't know if I can make coherent enough words man. But the thoughts are in there and I will try to articulate them. This is probably going to be mostly images though. anyway yeah KABRU POST.

A couple nights ago (at approximately 2:30am, lasting a little over half an hour) I had a bit of a moment about Kabru. That, too, was mostly images- most of what you see in this more concise post were presented then as well. I think my main points of the "moment" were about Kabru's trauma + self hatred, his autism and/or general otherness, and also a little labru if you'd like..

I think something easy to start with is I wanna point out Kabru's constant back and forth and conflicting opinions of demihumans and how, I believe, thats a reflection of how he goes back and forth on what he believes his purpose of living is- and the general worth of his own life. I've said it before and i've just kinda shown it in images; Kabru is "i think im a monster and it disgusts me" where Laios is "I know im a human and it disgusts me" (i could go more into the latter on another post)

the above are both from the world bible, with the left being from the section on kobolds and the right being from the section on Kuro specifically. Utaya was very near to the desert where most of the kobold population is, this is likely why Kabru is able to speak Kuro's language- he grew up around demihumans. (chapter 48 cover, kobold chapter in the world bible) I won't try to speak for how his mother or the rest of utaya felt about the kobolds but I can say that Kabru was very much othered as a child, as was his mother, purely for the way her son's (kabru) eyes looked.

I feel like its fair enough to say that both kabru and the kobolds were othered, and possibly for similar reasons (villager's seeing them as nonhuman, as monsters) and the fact that Kabru learned their language probably didn't help his case. I think his perception of kobolds (and all demihumans, subsequently himself, as he probably still views himself as nonhuman or not human enough.. deep down) was damaged by the Utaya incident. at 2:30am when I first started this ramble my main comment was that "had the utaya incident not happened kabru would have little reason to feel ashamed for his connection to monsters. and may have ended up similar to laios in that he couldve had otherkin swag" which is just a sort of silly way of saying Kabru could've learned to love the thought that he is possibly nonhuman or at least not hated himself so much for it.

in the original ramble I said, and quote, "he has been STALKING laios. laios is his hyperfixation to learn how he can ever be loved. he keeps going back and forth so harshly on wether or not he wants to kill Laios and he clearly sees his survival from utaya not as an unfortunate trauma [*] but as a necessary, deserved fate. a punishment for his mother's witchy sins, and for his sin of being non-human. to atone for it all, to apologize for being alive, he tries to better the lives of all humanity. He was set on his way to dethrone the governor of the island . do you understand? im going insane" *i also said somethings about the way he processes other people's traumas and not his own. He's able to understand and even help some people, but he struggles to process his own issues and see himself as worthy of love and life.

^some examples of Kabru being understanding of or helping others who have suffered greatly. I think its also worth mentioning that with Rin (called "Lynn" in that translation) he says "I wish there was a way to get her out of this" though he's insisted and pushed for himself to go into a dungeon;

In chapter 94, Mithrun says "The desire I had left wasn't revenge. All I wanted.. was for it to finish devouring me." and I don't feel like it's a stretch to say Kabru was in a similar situation. Mithrun sought out the demon with no plan on how to kill something like that because deep down he wanted it to end his (Mithrun's) own life, to finish the trauma it caused and kill him. I think Kabru went into the dungeon in part with the hopes that it'd kill him. That the same thing that destroyed Utaya and caused him so much trauma would just.. finish him.

I just think Kabru is a beautifully complex character, I have a lotta thoughts on him and I don't see nearly as many analysis posts for him than I do Laios (despite labru being such a popular ship)

there is no tldr for this post idk how to summarize it. do what you will with this collection of images. have fun. go crazy

fun fact the woman in the bottom left corner is his mother, she is labeled here as "witch"

[r3ynah]

I Can be everything and anything, at once

A 27 years old Phantom was challenged to a bet, by his co-workers at the watchtower. Green lantern stated along with the the other heroes that If he could help every single one of them at least once in a month while not using any his powers and he also had to be physically and mentally there as he helps them. the cherry on top was that he needed to use his real identity instead of his ghost form in this mission.

If Phantom successfully conceals his civilian identity, while helping them, he gets to know everyone's deepest darkest secrets.

But if he loses, he must do everyone a favor and must keep it no matter how outrageous it is.

Ofcourse Phantom agreed, because he was no bitch, okay so maybe he is, he only accepts bets like this if he knows that'll he'll win. so yeah.

Besides, having no powers for this, is really a piece of cake, if you're a raging gender fluid that knows his way around makeup and can easily change the sound of his voice, to be honest the shapeshifting parts that he got from his powers are basically just add-ons.

Well what was he waiting for? afterall he needed all the blackmail he could get, not as Phantom but as Daniel James Fucking Fenton, this was an opportunity to go batshit crazy and he was absolutely stealing it.

The very first hero Danny approached to help was Wonder Woman, who thanked Danny who was now disguised as a woman wearing a long ass Red wig, and some clothes he "borrowed" from Jazz who just joked about Danny being her twin, and wished him luck.

"Thank you, young lady for your brave actions to help me." Wonder woman sincerely thanked the boy in disguise as she held both of Danny's hands as gratitude "may I ask the name of my savior? "

"My name's El, It's a pleasure to know you." Danny smiled a little wider.

The second was Flash, which Danny found completely amusing because of the way he helped the speedy hero, who tripped while patrolling around the city.

Danny who was now in a more gothic attire( thanks to Sam's help) caught the hero's wrist before he embarrassingly fell face first on the ground.

"You okay there sir?" Danny asked, as he kept a firm grip on the man's wrist to make sure he doesn't fall.

Meanwhile Flash who thought he was in those korea tv romance dramas only blue screened for a few seconds before finally get his shit together. "yeah- um- name's Flash, and you are?"

The hero tripped on his own words, making Danny amused as fuck. "James, it was nice to finally meet you"

Okay, about like three weeks in, and Danny managed to help almost everyone in the watchtower, and only a few more to go,( he didn't get why most of the heroes he helped either started to stutter or blue screen in their spot once they talk to him. like damn is this how all of you treat every civilian who interacts with you? that's just sad) but at this time, Dan and Elle found out, and were now demanding to join, with the excuse of basically being Danny but in alternate or clone form, which Danny had no choice but to give in, I mean he wasn't breaking any rules so technically this was alright.

Danny wanted to take a break so Dan took over this time.

currently Nightwing was observing the outside of the gala, Bruce was invited to, something about a bunch of drugs being hidden within the crowd, and was now being passed around.

He intently remained focused on his observation, while also keeping a conversation with Oracle and the others on the comms, he didn't realize that he was too far off the edge of the railing he was standing on, until he missed a step.

Nightwing would never admit that he let a quiet squeal to his siblings ever as he fell, he closed his eyes and braced for impact, he would never expect to fall into the arms of a man 3x bigger than him, he stared at the man, and the man stared at him. 'holy shit' Nightwing thought.

The man, chuckled making Nightwing internally scream. "When I wished for Desiree, to make someone from above to save me from this trash party, I didn't think it would be one of the birds of gotham, to come and fall for me let alone the handsome one."

Okay Nightwing was now full on red from blushing, he was put down gently by the man on the ground, before offering a handshake, once Nightwing accepted the handshake, Dan pulled the hand closer to his mouth then gave a quick peck on the back of the hand vigilante's hand. "My name's Dan Masters, it's a pleasure to meet you."

his siblings can eat dirt on how they were teasing Nightwing Right now, but this was fucking worth it.

And the last to have gotten help from Danny was John Constantine, Danny actually had a reason on why he saved John for last, and that's because John actually knows Danny's identity, so for this mission he asked the help of his daughter Elle.

Elle had helped John by fixing a ruined summoning circle, who also helped him negotiate with a demon, and somehow all day, Elle just stuck to Constatine's side, her explanation? 'He'll die without me' fair point John thought as he took the kid, to order ice cream and to hangout in the park.

"You know kid, you remind me of someone." Constantine stated while keeping his eyes on what's infront of him, which was just a bunch of trees.

Elle who sat next to him, still eating her Ice cream looked up at him and said. "Really?"

"Yeah like you two literally have the same aura and all just a little different, but I don't know who yet." He replied and ruffled the kid's hair. making the girl laugh.

"Hey John!" Danny greeted behind them, and then all the gears inside of Constantine's head began to work. he let out a groan as he realized the girl beside him was the clone of the man behind him, well he needed to kiss that secret of his goodbye. here on this spot right now or he'll die of embarrassment if he waited any longer.

"Danny, let's go on a date." Constantine stated, not facing the Man.

this comment made the Father and Daughter choke on literal air.

[barbieaemond]

Lykirī

PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

WARNINGS: loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), handjob, we ride him bitches, dom/sub tones if you squint

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

Author's note: an early Christmas gift for those who celebrate!! For those who don't, just a regular smutty piece. This was based on a request where wife!reader rides Aemond. Merry Aemondmas :)

MASTERLIST

taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @arcielee

"You are to marry the King's second son. Prince Aemond Targaryen."

Those were your father's words. Your sister had looked at you almost with pity and a hint of relief since that fate had befallen you and not her. You had simply nodded, accepting the fate decided by your father, just as thousands of other daughters before and after you would have done.

Your mother had come to comb your hair before going to bed, and without much ado, she had told you what would happen after the wedding, after the banquet.

"All you have to do is try to relax your nerves, and I promise it will be less painful.”

The thought had stuck in your brain until the wedding day. And the aura emanating from the prince didn't help. He was stoic to the point of looking like a statue, his posture rigid as a spindle, and there was something unsettling about him that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand when he took your hand to recite the wedding vows. Fear, but also a foreign giddiness prickling your skin upon feeling his calloused fingers around yours.

The banquet had not helped either. Prince Aegon had behaved like a court jester, drinking to the point of wondering how he could stand upright, poking his brother with cruel jokes about his eye and a whore who had made Aemond a man many years before.

You didn’t know what kind of unpleasant memories your good-brother had just summoned in his brother’s mind. That woman and her cheap perfume, that way it had clung to his skin, to his thoughts for days after his only ever trip to Flea Bottom.

Then the elder Prince had approached you with his breath stinking of Dornish and it was then that Prince Aemond broke his icy silence, standing up abruptly and looking down at you. "Come, wife. It is time for us to retire."

Prince Aegon had clapped his hands as if in front of a hilarious show, saying "Finally some fun! The bedding!"

The entire crowd present at the banquet had escorted you to the prince's chambers. The servants had removed your dress, leaving you in your underskirts; you had unconsciously covered your chest, crossing your arms to hide from the greedy eyes of the men peering in the doorway, Prince Aegon in the front row with yet another cup of wine clutched between his fingers.

Master Mellos invited you to lie down on the bed, and you obeyed, swallowing, while a host of servants shielded you from view as the Maester made his humiliating inspection.

"All is in order, your Graces," the Master informed the Prince and Queen. And that was enough for Aemond to completely slip the iron mask off his face and go straight to the door. "The show is over. Get out."

"Oh, come on, little brother. Let me watch, at least. I could give you some tips."

Aemond had towered over his brother, and from your seat on the bed, you were able to see the eldest brother shrinking by the moment. "This is not some common whore you're speaking of.” Aemond seethed “She is my wife, and you will owe her the respect she deserves. One more lewd word from your mouth, and I will rip your tongue with my bare hands. Am I being clear?”

"Gods, brother, are you already so cunt-struck?"

He never got an answer, only the door being slammed right into his face.

You stood in the middle of the room, torturing your hands as he looked at you from the door. He seemed unsure of what to do, until he cleared his throat and took a few tentative steps in the room.

“You could have some wine, if you wish. It may…help you.” He said, but as he said this, he seemed to regret his own words, given how his mouth twitched as if he had just tasted something sour. Memories could come just like that, sudden and sour.

“You must relax, my prince. Have some wine, maybe? No need to worry, I will take care of you just as a prince deserves to.”

“I’d like to keep my mind clear, my Prince.” You said, keeping your gaze down, hearing his fast and deep sigh. “Fine.” he said, straightening his back as a soldier. After all, wasn’t this just another duty?

It wasn’t just that though. You were his wife now, the future mother of his children. It was his duty and his right to claim you as his own.

“Lay on the bed.”

With your heart pounding in your ears, you did as you were told but when the mattress dipped under his weight, you did not expect to see him with his clothes still on, the eyepatch firmly in its place. More so, you did not expect the harshness of his gestures as he held your waist to turn you around. The air hitched in your throat as your face met the mattress and a strange sorrow gripped your heart. Did he not want to look at you? Did he not like you?

“Try to stay still and it’ll be over shortly.” he said. He was trying to sound reassuring, but his voice came out cold and flat. His fingers latched on your underskirts, hiking them up, filling you with embarrassment as you grow completely exposed beneath him.

Aemond knew what to do. He may not have been as depraved as his brother, but he was still a man. And once in a while, when his hands would not suffice, some maid or servant girl would’ve had to bear, quite keenly on their part, his intimate attentions.

As his hands began to glide on your thighs, you shivered and said “Wait…”

Slowly your head turned to look at him, cheeks red and breath slow and anxious. “Am I not allowed to look at you?”

Your words seemed to stun him for a moment. The mere thought of you wanting to look at him made him realize how wrong he was behaving. You were his wife, not a common whore to bend over and have his moment of bliss. He had even told Aegon. That was not his intention, but there was a gap between how he felt and how he acted, a limb severed by years of pity looks and feelings trapped in his mouth and swallowed.

Almost gently, he made you turn but once you were facing him, he pinned your wrists on the mattress, unable to touch him even if you had gathered enough courage to do it. You tried to brace yourself for what your mother had told you. But she had not told you that he would touch you there, that all your senses would go numb except for that one brand new feeling between your legs. But he seemed enthralled by it just as you, his mouth parting to let out slow puffs of air as you grow wet and swollen against his fingers.

Your breath was labored, coming out in soft pants that made your cheeks purple. More so because he kept circling his deft fingers on your core while looking straight into your eyes, reveling in the way you were answering to his call, in the way he was shaping your need, your desire.

“You never touched yourself, did you?” he asked in a husky voice.

You barely shook your head and his eye glinted with something dark as he brought his face close to yours “Good. I shall be the only one inside you.”

He swallowed your shaky breath with this mouth, kissing you for the very first time, apart from the shy, almost prude peck exchanged after the wedding vows. Your lips moved shyly, trembling with the coiling pressure between your legs. And just when you thought this heat, this delicious aching couldn’t grow more unbearable, he sticked a finger inside you, spilling a loud moan right against his mouth.

One of your wrists twisted in his harsh hold, willing to touch him, to grip on something, but he didn’t let you. “Easy…” he blew on your lips “Relax. It’ll feel good, I promise…”

It surely felt good to him, to feel the tightness of your cunt squeezing his finger. He curled it and you squinted your eyes, choking a gasp that made him smirk proudly against your jaw. “Gods, you’re so tight…” he breathed as he kept rubbing slowly against your walls.

“It’s—it’s too much—“ you cried out with pain and pleasure running together, breathing his scent of ash, leather and a hint of something minty.

“How will you take my cock if you can’t even take my finger?” He whispered with benevolent cruelty, moving his finger faster and deeper.

Certainly your mother had not told you of the obscene wet sounds you would hear, of the uncontrollable moans coming out of your mouth, of his soft growling next to your ear when his breeches became too tight.

He had lined the tip of his hard manhood to your entrance, catching your breath away as tried to still your nerves, but the pain came altogether. You felt like he was cutting you from the inside. Tears filled your eyes, squinting for the painful stretching. You knew he was restraining himself; he didn’t want to hurt you more than he already was. And you almost felt affection for him, most men would not have bothered.

Then he had started to move, you felt that stranger body rubbing over and over against your walls, and finally the pain soothed, but not completely. You could tell he was enjoying it, his ragged breath and faint moans told you so, as well as the curses hissed through his teeth in a language you guessed was Valyrian. And then he had stilled completely, gripping your hips hard and firm while you felt a hot wave pulsing through your core.

The next morning, you could barely sit down for breakfast, and your aunt had looked at you with concern and a hint of amusement in her eyes. She was a veteran at court, a long-time widow, and quite happy to be so. It was her who suggested your betrothal to the Prince.

"How are you feeling, sweet niece?"

"Awful." you said promptly, shifting your weight on the seat.

"Well, this is the kind of anguish all women must go through."

"I thought that was giving birth to another human being."

"Oh Gods, no. That is the ugly part. This is the good one," she said with a sly smile "I suggest you enjoy it as much as you can."

At the time, you didn't really understand what she meant. The first night with the prince had gone...well, you thought. But he certainly enjoyed it more than you.

The second time was better. Your muscles were still sore, but the pain was but a faint discomfort compared to the pleasure you felt for the very first time in your life.

The third time he went down on you, bringing you so close to the edge only to deny your release, with cruel enjoyment on his part, making you whine with shame at the loss of his mouth and tongue on your folds.

The fourth time he bent you down on the breakfast table, all things falling in a mess of cutlery. He had pulled up your skirts and lowered his breeches just enough to thrust in, unraveling a special spot deep inside of you that had you mewling like some primitive beast.

The fifth time he had you writhing in bed, hair stuck to your head with sweat and hands clenching the sheets while he had you peak three times in a row.

It was then that you started to think your aunt was right.

That was indeed the good part.

“Are you afraid?” he asks, with a soft taunt on the tip of his tongue. You drag your eyes away from the gigantic beast before you and almost scoff. That is enough for him to laugh, quietly, but still not quietly enough for you to not notice and wonder at the view.

It’s been merely one moon since you’ve been married to Prince Aemond, and you could count on the fingers of your hand the times you have seen him laugh. It was eerie at first, you feared all the things you heard about the One Eyed Prince were true. That he was cold as stone and just as hard. And he was. But the more you spent time together, the more you were able to make cracks, and let light through.

“I’m equally afraid as any little mortal of right mind would be in front of the largest dragon in the known world, my dear husband.”

His lips stay quirked up, but his eye widens, as it always does when you call him that. He steps close to you, a few of his long strides are enough for him to tower over you, and the ground below your feet shifts.

“Come.” He says, taking your hand, “I promise she won’t eat you.” This time you deliberately glare at him, and he raises an eyebrow. “Do you need some other kind of persuasion to trust me? Perhaps like the one I used this morning?”

The early afternoon sun makes his face almost hurting to watch, or maybe it's just his bold gloating that makes his appearance so exhausting.

“That was not persuasion.” you remark, hiding the tinge of red on your cheeks “It was coercion.”

“Hmm. You didn’t seem so hostile when I made you come twice before breakfast.”

"I was hostile to the chance of the maid assisting with what we were doing."

"The maid should know better than to enter while my wife is undressing."

His eye roams over you just as he had done that morning, hunger clouding it, making your insides shrink. "Perhaps it's best if she knew. Someone must be aware of how cruel my husband is." there's a soft tease in your tone—something you are still learning, but true nonetheless.

He had ripped your nightgown with his bare hands when the maid entered to help you dress. She fled hastily, but you barely spared a glance at her, already lost to the fierce claim of his hand between your legs. He had taken you, twice, and then ordered you to dress, forcing you to have breakfast with the Queen and the Princess with your thighs still sticky with sex, sticky with him.

And he had been there, sitting just in front of you, with a piercing and delighted gaze.

He pulls your hand, and you follow, getting closer to that living relic that is Vhagar, Queen of All Dragons. She raises her monstrous head and looks straight at you with her amber eyes.

It is the first time you step so close to her, and even if you thought about it a lot, your heart is pounding fast, and your breath comes out slow and labored. She's a dreadful wonder.

She flares her nostrils and smells you, making a low rumble which results in a gust of hot wind that ruffles your hair and skirts.

“Lykirī, Vhagar.” Aemond says quietly “Issa ñuha ābrazȳrys. Kostā pāsagon zirȳla.”

You look at him questioningly, and he answers. “I told her you are my wife. And she can trust you.”

You cast a curious look at the dragon and then back at him “Is that all it takes? You tell dragons to trust you, and they resist the urge to turn you into their meal?”

Aemond curves his lips and makes you step closer, standing behind you and guiding your hand on the old green scales. “It takes much more than that.” he whispers in your ear “You have to surrender to them, completely. A dragon is no slave.”

You feel the heat beneath your palm, but it’s not that that makes you swallow; it’s the heat of his breath on your neck, right into your ear, scorching his way into your brain and inflaming every thought.

“What does Lykirī mean?” you ask, and you hate how your voice cracks on the edges.

He smirks because he knows, he always does. But he does not answer. Instead, he pulls your hand again, and you follow, circling the beast until stopping before the intricate ropes that lead to the saddle.

“Aemond, I don’t think—”

“You are my wife and you will ride with me on dragon back.” He said, commanding.

Truthfully, you gladly want to obey; there is just a slight difference between picturing riding a dragon and doing it.

Even the climbing to get in the saddle is a challenge on its own, but he helps you until you firmly seat yourself in it. Aemond sits behind you, and you look around with widened eyes, as if you are looking down from the highest tower ever built, except this is a living one, made of fire and breathing fire.

He leans over you to grab the reins, and you tense, waiting with bathed breath.

“Dohaeras, Vhagar. Soves!”

She lets out a loud screech that makes your ears hurt, but you have no time to even register it because she's already moving. You grip Aemond’s arms and brace yourself against his chest when Vhagar lurches onward and opens her huge wings to take flight.

She goes up and up, above the clouds, and your head is dizzy, with fear, with euphoria, until you are laughing like a child, like you never did in your entire life. Aemond lets go of the reins and laces his arms around you, angling his head to look at you, his silver hair violently ruffled by the wind. “How does it feel, my sweet wife?”

There are no common words to describe it. Now you know why they say Targaryens are closer to Gods than men. No man could claim a dragon or rule the skies.

“I feel like I’m close to the Gods.” you say, and he tightens the hold on you “Dragons do not answer to Gods.” he says, burying his nose in your hair “Where does this leave us?”

You turn your head to look at him, and you feel like you are looking at one of them. And yet he looks like he’s beyond any God.

“Above them. Above the Gods.”

“Hmm.” He croons, breathing your scent through his nose, and then his right hand grabs your skirt and dips underneath, until you feel his cold fingers grazing your skin. “I will make you feel like one.”

He cups your core through your small clothes, and you whimper, gripping his arm harder. He feels your heat through his palm, hotter than Vhagar’s own fire, and he sets the fabric aside to properly touch you. “My sweet wife.” he whispers, sliding a finger between your folds “Always so ready for me.”

“Aemond.” You say, holding your breath, trying to oppose but your voice cracks, and your body with it, already answering to his call. You see clouds before your eyes, but it’s all a blur, all your senses are enslaved by his touch, rubbing lazy circles on your bud. Too slow for your liking, for your need. Your hips arch and buck, chasing his hand for more friction, and he laughs, darkly. “What is it? What do you need, sweet girl? Tell me.”

He takes your chin with his free hand and forces you to turn your head and look at him. His hold is ruthless, but his tone is almost pleading. “Tell me.” he orders and you feel like he’s smothering you, sweeping away all the air from your lungs. “I-I need more…”

“More of what?” he asks, stopping altogether. “Show me.”

You look him in the eye and swallow, heat inflaming your cheeks, but there’s no place for shame, not here. It is just a faint ghost passing through you, and then it’s gone. Your hand pulls the gown up, and you place it on his, like a feather. “Here.” You breathe on his mouth “Inside.”

The howling wind does nothing to muffle his growl, and then he’s kissing you, harshly, teeth clashing and biting your lips as he accepts your plea, sliding a finger inside of you.

A strangled moan escapes you, and he swallows it, darting his tongue in every corner of your mouth. He releases your chin only to grab your leg to further open them and then he adds a second finger, moving them deftly until reaching that special spot. Your head falls back on his shoulder, gasping loudly, digging your nails into his hand.

Your breath is ragged and fast, and you uselessly try to stifle moan after moan even if there are only the skies to hear.

“Don’t.” he says grazing your lobe with his teeth “I want to hear you. I want you to scream for me.”

Your mind goes blank, as does all your restraint. You feel the tide coming to crash you, hips moving on their own accord, chasing and chasing. And then you’re drowning in it, mouth falling open and flesh and bones clenching and trembling.

He grunts softly when your nails scratch his skin and his fingers slip out, glistening; he raises them to his lips and tastes every drop of you. Still panting, he takes your chin once more with his sticky fingers and licks your lips, so you taste yourself on his tongue.

Your head is still dizzy when Vhagar lands in a clearing in the King’s Wood, but this has nothing to do with altitude. Your limbs are heavy when he helps you dismount, your legs buckle. There is a tautness knotting your bones, itching your fingertips.

You wish to touch him, because you have never, not as a wife would touch her husband, not as he has done with you.

It is only a moon and yet he has taken you almost every night and every day. He has touched you everywhere, he has molded you to his liking, and you let him do it with giddiness, undoing yourself like clay in his hands. He had put his mouth on you, and you have discovered he particularly enjoyed it, because he has done that at the most inopportune times, even in some dark corner of the corridors.

And you wondered if you could do the same with him—not because you have to, but because you want to. You want to claim him just as he claims you, relentlessly.

And he really is. He is relentless, he doesn't give you the time to wander with your hands, to discover, to touch. Fire burns him quickly and you are ashes before you realise you are burning with him.

“I didn’t know my wife had claws.” He says at one point, while you are going back to the Keep.

You wake from your thoughts and turn, watching him raise his hand to show the red marks on the back of his hand, and the sight makes you almost proud—proud to have left a mark of you on him. But you want more, and he wants more. You know it; it takes a brief look at his breeches to know that he wants more.

You dart your eyes around, but there's no one. So, you stop. Trying to gather all the boldness you never had, you step closer to him and take his hand in yours. Your eyes look up slowly, glinting with uncertainty and bravery. "Then let me soothe your pain, husband."

Aemond’s eye widens, and the air around you turn heavy, forcing you to open your mouth to breathe. You take one more step and bring the back of his hand to your lips, kissing it gently while your eyes stay fixed on his face. The other hand goes tentatively to his chest and then slides down, and for once, just once, he’s the one answering your call. His eye darkens and his lips part when your hands bashfully grab the laces of his breeches.

But you should have known better. Targaryens and their desires. Doomed to take whatever they want, whenever they want, answering neither Gods nor men.

You barely blink and he grabs you by the wrists and forces you to the ground. Cold grass and bushes stinging your back make you gasp, but Aemond is already on you, watching you like a century-long thirsted man who takes a glimpse of a water spring, as if you could evaporate from his sight at any moment.

“Aemond, please.” you beg “let me—“

But his tongue is in your mouth, hot and scorching you alive. Your eyes flutter shut, and he hikes your skirts up, taking hold of your hips. You feel his bulge against you, hard and ready, and you can do nothing else than wait, pinned down like prey, all bravery a distant memory.

Suddenly he lowers himself down, lifting your skirts with haste until you’re completely bare half down. “No—Aemond, please I want to—”

“You want what?” he asks with a wolfish grin “Deny me your sweet taste? Iksā ñuhon, ābrazȳrys.” He said that already, you know what it means. You are mine.

“You belong to me. And this…” he swears placing your legs on his shoulders while looking at your aching core as a man who found the greatest treasure in the world. “This belongs to me as well.”

He runs his tongue up and down your wet folds, humming with delight as he tastes you and sees you squirm, arching your back on the stingy bushes. You moan loudly when he slowly swirls his tongue, not able to keep track of your hips starting  to move on their own, thrusting into his mouth and the sight of you like this, makes him even wilder, pushing him to open his mouth and put it entirely on your cunt, sucking harshly until anything before your eyes becomes blurred.

Your legs on his shoulders begin to shake and curl, caging him further against you, but just when you are about to come straight into his mouth, he pulls back. A weak sob leaves your mouth as your hips keep bucking against nothing and he smirks at that, untangling your legs from his shoulders, running his tongue over his lips, to taste what's left of you on him. You look at him through dazed eyes and a tinge of annoyance for the denied release. “What?” he has the boldness to ask with a sly smirk “Did you not enjoy it?” he runs his thumb on his glistening chin and swiftly licks it. "Hmm. I most certainly did."

“Aemond, please.” you claw desperately at his shoulders and forearms, forcing him to lie on you, feel something that could soothe the aching between your legs. He seems keen to grant you this mercy, molding his crotch against you so you can feel how hard and desperate he is.

“Please.” you beg in a thin voice.

“Speak it plainly, my love. I want to hear it from your pretty mouth.”

You look at him straight in the eye and what you say next is not a request nor a plea. Your mother would be ashamed of you, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You are not begging. You are demanding. “Fuck me.”

He doesn’t need more than a few moments to get his cock out of his breeches, and not a moment later he’s pushing inside of you, your back arching on the bushes and your throat fighting for breath. He groans and starts a relentless pace, lifting his weight from you just enough for him to look at his cock going in and out, the sight only pushing him to thrust harder and harder. “Look at you.” he croons, sweet and rough “You were born to take me, to be mine.”

Your face twists with pleasure, teeth biting your lower lip while he takes you higher and higher, higher than any sky a dragon could ever take you.

He soon becomes messy and sloppy, cursing under his breath, but you can barely hear him. Your mind is sluggish and everything comes muffled: him, the birds chirping on some tree, your wet flesh slapping against his in the lewdest and most blessed way.

He curses some more, and then he’s spilling inside you, his arched mouth opening and his eye closing like a man absolved.

And yet, he does not stop. He has not claimed enough.

“Māzis, dōna ābrazȳrys. Come for me.”

Your hand clutches something on the ground, something with thorns that pierces your skin with pain, but you can’t even feel that, because you are falling, legs trembling around him, and heart stopping for an endless moment of pure breathtaking bliss.

“Gevie.” he coos with his lips on yours, falling with his body on you, still clenching and pulsing around him. He stays right where he is, nesting inside of you, and now it is the only chance you have been granted to touch him. You put an arm around his shoulders, catching your breath, and look at the skies above, thinking you are indeed above them.

It was easy to explain the dirt and grass stains on your dress. It was a little less easy to explain the twigs in your ruffled hair when you and Aemond returned to the Keep only to meet the Queen Mother along one of the corridors. Alicent merely smiled at you with a tight smile and did not spare from giving a look full of daggers to her son.

"Seven Hells" you mutter when you go back to your rooms and catch a glimpse of the mess you are in the mirror.

Aemond stays on the threshold to close the door and grins, or rather, gloats.

You step out of your muddy shoes and start to pull the laces of your dress.

"What are you doing?" he asks, and you playfully glare at him. "Am I allowed to take a bath now? Or do you want me to go around all sullied? I fear there are no believable excuses for the state I’m in."

"You can tell them the truth." he says, walking to you and replacing your hands with his to help you pull the intricate laces.

You smile softly with your back turned before raising an eyebrow, asking "Which is?"

He keeps his eye focused on the dress, a slight furrow in his brow, and stoically serious, he says "That your husband fucked you in the King's Wood."

"I could tell the maid. I'm sure she won't be stunned after what she saw this morning."

He makes you turn so you can look at him, and the sight before you makes your heart sing. His eye roams on your face softly, a rare sight on him, always stoic, always sharp, like all the angles composing this beautiful sculpture of black glass.

You always thought of marriage as a strategic deal for men, and a way for women to prove their value to the world, giving those same men sons and daughters. But you care for him. And he cares for you. That look on his face is enough for you to know that he cares for you, not merely as a brood mare.

“Gevie.” he says, quietly, and he touches your cheek, softly, making you wonder how those same hands can be so delicate and yet so merciless at the same time.

“What does it mean?” you ask, even if you are sure he will not answer. You observed that when he speaks in High Valyrian he does it almost to himself, as if to protect something he does not wish the others to know.

But this time, he meets your eyes and lowers his hand. “Beautiful.”

You look at him with your heart pounding in your throat, and then you stand up on your toes, crashing your mouth against his, almost catching him by surprise. But he is all too deft at turning the game on his side, and a few seconds later, his hands are gripping your hips and his tongue is licking the roof of your mouth.

When the door suddenly opens, you pull back, spotting the same maid from that morning who, this time, can do nothing but suffer the Prince's wrath.

"Can't you just fuck off for once?!"

You hold back a laugh against his chest and the poor maid flees in a hurry. But when he pulls you to him, tilting his head to pick up where he left off, you step back and say, "I'm afraid the Queen has requested your presence. You should go, my dear husband. I promise that by tonight I will be completely clean."

"Tonight?" he asks, raising his eyebrow. "What is happening tonight?"

You shrug your shoulders and hold back a smile. "Innocence doesn't suit you, my Prince."

"Neither does you."

"I'm afraid this is your fault. You are sullying my soul as well as...everything else."

"You won't be of the same mind when you have my child growing in your womb," and he smirks, looking at you as if he's taking a sacred oath, and then walks away.

You finally manage to take a bath and change clothes, and then you go to visit your aunt. She spends most of her time alone, sipping tea in the gardens, partly because she can't stand the other court ladies, partly because the court ladies can't stand her. Truthfully, you cannot blame them, your aunt speaks plainly—too plainly at times.

You sit down with her for tea, which you end up swallowing like salt, because your aunt takes it with a whole squeezed lemon, and no sugar.

"I saw you with your husband earlier. I may be too old for new fashion but mud on your skirt and twigs in your hair seem a bit too brazen, even for me."

You stifle a smile, recalling what happened. If only she knew he was brazen enough to have you utterly undone on dragon back, thousands of feet up.

Your eyes go distant while you fumble with some tablecloth threads, but your Aunt stares at you piercely, and grabbing her cup of tea she says "I love that look on you."

"What?"

She sips the sour liquid and puts the cup down. "That look. The I'm in love look."

"I am not!" you counter, cheeks going red.

"Of course you are. I've watched you two. I dare say he's falling way faster than you."

You look at her puzzled. Many things have changed in a moon. And you are sure you are utterly infatuated with him. But you did not know what to think of what he actually feels for you, if he even feels something. You know he cares for you, you know he loves spending time with you. You know he's passionate, possessive, almost soft at rare times. But in love? That seems too soon to consider, or to hope for.

"It is too soon to talk about love."

"In fact, I did not, my sweet niece. Falling in love and love are beasts of different species. Why do you think we say "falling"? You can't stop from falling. To love a person is an entirely different matter. Love is a choice."

You let those words sink but you prefer not to question your heart right now. There is a reason you have come here to talk to your aunt, even if you don't know how to address the matter without melting from embarrassment.

But in the end, who could you ask for advice? Your squeamish maids? The Queen Mother? Definitely not.

"Listen, I...I wanted to ask you something..." you start "It is uhm...a matter of somewhat intimate nature."

"Ah, my favourites." your aunt says, beaming "I am all ears."

You shift uncomfortably in your chair and swallow another sip of that dreadful tea "My mother...she explained to me what would happen between husband and wife to...consummate the marriage. But she didn't tell me...well, everything else."

Your Aunt is quick to raise her eyebrow "I gathered that your marriage had been consummated by now. Thoroughly."

"Y-yes, of course. But I...discovered...that there are other ways for a husband to please his wife...and I was wondering if...if I could…do those same things to please him."

Your aunt looks utterly puzzled for a long moment, and then, almost stunned, she says "Oh Seven Hells, child. You are telling me you never sucked your husband off?"

A few court ladies walking near turned their heads, going white as sheets, while you, on the contrary, take a nice purple shade.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, prissies. We all did it eventually." she dismisses them, waving a lazy hand, and looks back at you. "You should do it, if you wish. Men love it. Your uncle used to ask—"

"I don't want to hear that, auntie, I'm begging you." you say squinting your eyes.

"Listen to me, child. Men love to think they rule everything, everywhere. But it is not always like that. And if you want to rule your husband's heart, you must rule in his bed first."

That evening, Aemond wanted nothing more than to lock himself in his room with his wife and forget all the hateful political talk he had had to endure at dinner.

You had not attended, and that had bothered him. Never would he have thought of marriage as anything more than a duty, yet there he was, wondering where you were, who you were with, and why you weren't in his rooms when he set foot in there.

"Where is my wife?" he asks the maid, and she keeps her eyes glued to the floor, saying "The princess spent the evening in the library, your Grace. She told me that she would be—"

"I am here," you say, appearing behind the young maid.

You see his chest sag as if a weight is leaving him, and he casts an icy glance at the poor maid "Out."

He is rarely kind to servants, but you can tell by his tense shoulders that something is wrong.

"Aemond, what is the matter?" you ask as soon as the door closes, walking up to him with a hand behind your back.

"Where were you? Why weren't you at dinner?"

"I was in the library."

"For four hours?"

"It was a tough read—"

He grabs your arm, gripping hour wrist harshly, and you flinch. "Aemond, I swear to you.” you say watching his eye on fire and a sneer twisting his mouth “You can ask Maester Mellos." 

Suddenly he lets you go, and looks down, closing his eye for a moment. But he doesn't apologize, he never does, and not because he is a Prince. It's just the way he is. He doesn't apologize, he doesn't say thank you, he doesn't say please.

"Aemond, what's going on?"

"I don't want to talk about it now. In fact, never. Not here."

You watch him carefully, and you nod as he moves to pour wine into a cup. You watch him gobble it up greedily, which is unlike him. So, you get close and move your hand from behind your back and say, "Anyway, I wasn't lying. I really spent four hours in the library...trying to decipher this."

You show him an old book, and the title catches his eye, cup held in midair. "Tales of the Dragonlords?" he asks frowning. "This is in High Valyrian."

"It is." you confirm as you move closer, and you steal his cup before saying, "Would you read it to me?" and you take a sip, of wine and courage.

He watches the liquid flow down your throat and then accepts the invitation, taking the book—the one he has read so many times he can recite it by heart. He opens it to the first page, but you say "No. Page 72."

There is a slight imperative tone in your tone of voice, and it thrills him, given how his eye glints under the candlelight. He drops it on the table, looking at you from head to toe, and says, "I'll read it to you later, sweet wife."

He steps closer but you back away saying, "Fine, then. I'll tell you what I understood so you can correct me or not." and at the same moment your own hands go up on your corset and you start pulling on the laces.

The gesture catches his eye like a moth to a flame and he stays silent as you pull all the laces and then slip off your dress, remaining in your underskirt. His gaze roams over you slowly, and with a soft smirk, he decides to play the game.

“Page 72, you said. How Dragonlords claimed Dragons.”

“Yes.”

"And why did it capture your interest? Do you wish to do it? Do you wish to claim a dragon?"

"I wish to conquer, not claim."

He comes closer and looks at you, breathing through his nose, restraining, always restraining, and then he's raising his hand to reach a lock of your hair falling on your shoulder, but you stop him, air as heavy as moss.

"The Valyrian sages say a dragonlord must surrender himself completely to the dragon. But it works both ways. The dragon must submit his will to their rider."

He looks at you without blinking, and you take his arms, guiding him closer until you turn and push him lightly on the bed. He sits and you slowly climb on his lap, knees caging his hips, heart is pounding in your throat like a hammer. You hear him taking a swift breath and pride pools in your bones because for once you have caught him off guard.

You can feel his crotch hardening by the moment, but the look on his face is not one of hunger or lust. It is pure and blessed devotion.

You wonder at the view, and your eyes roam on his face until...

"Can I take it off?"

There's no need to say what. His face goes hard as stone, eye looking away with discomfort, with shame.

"Please, Aemond." you whisper. "I want to see all of you. I want you to bare yourself to me as I did to you."

"It is not pleasant."

"I don't want pleasantness. I want you."

He stares at you for an eternal moment and then he caves.

A flash of sparkling blue catches you completely and you can do nothing but watch with lips parted, while he keeps his eye down.

You wrap an arm around his shoulders and lean your head against his to breathe one single word in his ear. "Gevie."

His arms are all around you, holding you so tight you might gasp for air. Instead you are smiling, breathing through his long silver hair. You are not sure if you aunt is right, if love is indeed a choice. You can't bring yourself to care because you are doing it already.

And then he's kissing you, seizing your tongue with his in a fierce consuming way. He slightly hikes up your hips, and his hand tries to slide between your legs, but you lace your fingers around his wrist, breaking the kiss with panted breath.

"No." you whisper, and he looks at you almost questioningly, mouth open and chest heaving.

"Lykirī."

His eye widens and you smile, secretly. "I know what it means now."

He smirks at this and does not miss the chance to be the ever diligent scholar. "But you said it wrong. The R is hard."

“Lykirī.” You say again, following his lesson, and in the same moment your hand leaves his wrist and goes down to his breeches. He dips his chin to look at it, at your hands unsure, and he too looks unsure.

“You don’t have to—“

“I want to.” You say, and your voice comes out firm and clear. “Please, Aemond. Let me…let me touch you.”

He realizes now that in all the times you have been lying together, you never managed to lay a hand on him. He likes to keep people at distance. Too many wrong hands have been on him. The Maesters’, inspecting, debating, healing without healing. That whore, taking what it was not hers to take, not yet.

But he wants you to touch him. He has dreamed of it, in any way a man could dream of a woman’s touch.

He looks at you for a moment, chest rising slowly, and then, without taking his eye off you, he pulls the laces of his breeches and guides your hand around his cock. You look down, exhaling a long breath at feeling his hard and hot flesh already pulsing.

He knows you don’t know how to do it, so his hands guide you at first, going slowly up and down, and the air comes out of his mouth slowly and labored. You look up at him, his eye is pitch black, lid growing heavy with pleasure, and your core clenches, desire pools in your belly and flows down.

He must hear the call of your body, because he releases your hand, still stroking him, and goes right between your legs. You gasp loudly, and he hums, delight dripping from his voice just as you are dripping on his fingers. He starts to pump his fingers and you can do nothing but moan, clutching his shoulders with your free hand, the other still around his cock, but the act is growing lazy, your mind can’t focus properly on what you are supposed to do.

“Listen.” he orders you, fingers moving faster and faster, and you do listen. Your soaked flesh coming undone at his scorching touch. “Who else has you like this?”

But this is a question he’s asking himself. Because no one else will ever have him bare like this.

“You. Just you.” you say hoarsely, eyes closing and hips rocking on their own accord.

“And who am I?” he whispers just as hoarsely, and yet his voice is like a whip on all your senses.

“My husband.” you cry, feeling the wave ready to drown you “Ñuha zaldrīzes.” My dragon.

You cannot care less about how you said it, because then your mouth falls open, nails digging into his shoulder while your trembling hips keep riding his fingers, clenching them like a vice.

Your head falls onward, leaning against his forehead, and you try to catch your breath. You watch his wet fingers go straight into his mouth while he looks at you, humming with pleasure. “You look so pretty like this.” he says with the ghost of a smile on his lips “I should fuck you in Throne Room with the whole court watching, so they know how pretty you are when you come for me.”

You laugh with your cheeks flushing, and he slides an arm around you, and you know he wants to pin you down on the bed and fuck you until you are muffling nonsense in the pillow. But this is not his game. This is yours, and even if you don’t know how to play, you will win.

“No.” you say, climbing down from his lap, and he looks at you with hunger and a tinge of thrilling curiosity. “It is my turn to claim.” You say with all the bravery you possess.

Not a moment later, you are going down on your knees.

Another small victory, because his eye widens as he had never done before, and you can see that this, the sight of you on your knees before him, is something he has been craving for, even dreamed of it.

His breathing is slow, and you are not even touching him.

You place yourself between his knees and you lean closer and closer, anxiety twisting your insides, but you want to do this. “Lykirī, nuha zaldrīzes. Surrender.” you take him into your hand, tugging slowly, and your lips linger on the tip, heart pounding in your ears and eyes fixed on him. “Lykirī.” You say one last time and then you are swallowing him.

He hisses loudly and his lips part, hands clutching the covers until his knuckles go white. He’s like burning metal inside your mouth—hot and hard. At first, you just taste him, running your tongue over the head, and he’s cursing under his breath. His hands twitch on the covers, restraining and restraining, but there’s no need. You take his hand while looking at him and you release it from your mouth to say “Teach me.”

It’s like you have just poured fire on more fire. His eye goes wild, he takes hold of your head and starts to guide you again, making your mouth engulf him once more and deep down to the base and then up to the tip again, filling the room with a wet gagging sound. You get the gist of what you’re supposed to do, so your head starts going up and down and up and down, and he actually moans for you, head falling back for just a moment before looking back, he can’t help but watch as you fiercely claim him.

You watch his chest heaving fast and your jaw is starting to hurt but you don't care, you are too absorbed by the view before you. You are too thrilled by the fact that, for once, you have made him speechless.

He's always so bold in the bedroom, so cruel in deciding when and how to give pleasure, and now he's utterly speechless. He can only curse without breath, and gasp and groan.

“Kelītīs.” he manages to say at one point, voice all husky and cracking. You don’t know that word, and you have no time to ask because in a blink, he’s slamming you onto the bed and he’s hiking up your skirt, but you get on your elbows pushing him on his back and climbing on him.

“I’m not done, valzȳrys.” you say feeling his hard length inflaming your core, so you lay your hips on it as firmly as possible. “I claimed, but I did not conquer.”

“You are fucking torturing me.” he points out, bucking against you.

“Conquests could last for centuries, dear husband. You above all should know that.”

“All I know now is that I need to fuck you.” he says placing both hands on the sheets to pull himself up.

“No, I will.” you promise, rocking your hips once more “This is my conquest, not yours.”

You keep rubbing your drenched core on his length until a sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead, and he's so hard he's leaking from the tip. "You are twisted, wife." he says with a dazed tone and you smile even if you can't take it anymore, but you rock some more, saying "I'm a quick study. And I'm learning from the best."

Finally, when you are so wet you are dripping on him, you raise just enough to slide his cock inside of you.

You gasp together and you brace on his shoulders to start moving. You both know you are not going to last long, so you start rocking your hips slowly, taking him to the hilt until you struggle for air.

“Move…” he orders but you just take the opposite road, slowing your hips in a delicious torturing way. “Do you know what else the Sages said? A rider must know their mount, feel their heat below them.”

But Aemond does not have a single drop of blood in his head right now to give you an answer, let alone play your game; he's just fire that burns and burns and burns and just like the Sages said, you can feel his heat, burning below and inside you. He grips your hips and starts to thrust inside you like the wild beast you are supposedly claiming, until you are moaning so loud your throat hurts.

“Yes—” he growls as you bounce on him “Just like that—you’re gripping me so well—fuck"

You both turn sloppy, a mess of sweaty limbs and teeth biting, clutching at each other with bruising grips, pulling at the roots of his hair when you’re about to fall from the highest sky.

"Come on, my sweet girl. Let go for me." he breathes into your mouth, forcing you to move even faster "Let go fro your dragon. Seal your conquest." And you do.

He follows right after, spilling inside while digging his teeth into your neck like fangs on a prey, muffling his loud groaning.

And you are smiling like a fool, a lovestruck fool, but most of all, a conqueror. 

Thank you so much for reading!! 💞💞