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bunny584 · 8 months

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OBSESSED: GETO

A/N: Suguru is a patient, kind, wonderful, completely out-of-his-mind-insane man. I just had to capture it on paper. (The Yuuta installment is up next, this one was just crawling out of me lol)

C/W: Voyeurism (the real Shibuya incident 🤭) Mature, 18+

Suguru should stop.

He really should fucking stop.

You two are friends. Innocent. Platonic. The very best of friends.

And yet, here he is. Watching a live feed of you walking through your apartment door.

Keys to the left.

Heels kicked off to the right. You’ll come back to those later.

He drapes the bath towel around his neck. Catching the last few almond water droplets from his thick, near waist length hair. He’ll be at your place later; he wouldn’t forgive himself if he was the reason you caught a cold.

And capital punishment for anyone who rouses a single strand of hair on your head.

6:38 PM. A little late today. But it’s a Wednesday and there’s a farmers market in the town square. You always stop for chocolate croissants too late on Wednesdays. The vendor leaves before you’re out of work.

There are four of them on low heat in his oven right now.

Because Suguru now knows the vendor on a first name basis. He’s paid him well over asking price to have 4 chocolate croissants (made 2 batches later than what he sells during the day) be delivered to his place every Wednesday.

Because you’re his friend.

His best friend. And he can’t stand the thought of you going a second without anything you want in this lifetime.

Oh fucking hell.

Your (his) favorite blazer is off. As is the demure mint silk button up that it was covering. Both now wistfully draped over the corner of the kitchen island. He finds the way you throw your things around haphazardly so adorable.

But that doesn’t matter right now.

Like clockwork, Suguru’s left hand drags down his sweatpants, just enough to let his overgrown, painfully hard cock free. It bounces well past his belly button, like a fresh wire spring.

And with cinematic timing, you lean over your kitchen island. In nothing but your lacy bra and snug little pencil shirt. Mindlessly catching up on your social media.

The way your plush, pouty rose lips hang slightly open. And your fucking perfect tits spill over the top of your slightly undersized bra. The lazy S curve from your petite shoulders…tapered down to your waist…back out to the swell of your hips.

“Fuck,” a king cobra hiss escapes his lips.

You’re dizzying. Utterly fucking intoxicating.

Suguru’s chest rises and falls. The pace of his hand around his cock crescendos. Almost angrily.

How could you do this to him?

You’re his best friend for fucks sake.

Precum slicks from his thick, blunt tip. Squelching around his knuckles.

Your back arches into a mini crescent moon. And Suguru might as well have swallowed a blow torch.

“Nnnhhgh fuck, g-god…so…” Sharp drags of air mix with his poorly choked down moans.

His hand grips harder. Hips now rutting up off his desk chair. Hungry. Needy. Imprecise pumps into the slick ring of his fingers. Chasing another high he so desperately wishes you could personally give.

Because the way he feels right now?

The sheer malevolence in his mind. The depravity. You trust him completely and he can’t trust himself with you at all.

Beautiful, enchanting girl.

You reduce him to a perverted, bird brained slave to his desires.

You make him want to violate you. To fuck a cock-shaped hole through the back of your skirt to your cervix.

He wants to pick you up and bounce you along all 10 inches of his length and watch himself bludgeon through to your stomach.

He wants to pin you down and use your pretty little throat as his personal cocksleeve. And watch you garble and cry and drool around his invading length while you struggle for air. And listen to the melodic sounds of you gasping and muffled around his dick when he makes you apologize.

Apologize for being so goddamn irresistible. For bringing this depraved shell of a human being out of him.

Electricity runs the length of his manhood. His breaths are jagged, tendrils of wavey hair matted to his forehead.

The sound of your ringtone slices through the static in his brain. Tethering him back out of his criminal spiral.

“H-hey, pretty.” Suguru forces his baritone to level out. Hand still stroking his length.

Your wispy, girly giggle almost finishes him instantly.

“You’ve gotta stop with the pet names, Suguru! The trail of women in your wake hate me enough as it is.”

“Ha-I c-couldn’t care less.” Talking is harder than breathing for him.

You lean up from the counter and start twirling your hair in a way that makes him want to carve out another galaxy for you. Just for you. Anything for you.

“Movie night? I’ve been wanting to—“

“Yes.” Suguru is almost embarrassed at how quickly he cut you off. Like a fucking dog.

You laugh again and stroll to your refrigerator. He knows you’re lamenting the missed croissants. And he knows you know there’s a 99.99% chance he’s already gotten them for you. Because he is silly putty for you. He crumbles to stardust in your hands.

Because he’s your best friend.

“I got them.” Suguru rasps out. Hands moving so fast up his shaft, precum surging out his tip. He’s so close. So fucking—

“God I love you.”

And he snaps. Hot, thick ropes of his cum splay everywhere. Suguru draws metallic from his bottom lip, clenching down so hard not to give himself away.

You said it so innocently. So platonically. And it shifted his entire world on its axis.

His best fucking friend.

“Love you too, I’ll be there at 8.”

PART. II

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gothhabiba · 1 month

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🇵🇸 Help save Mohammad Abu Hamam from starvation 🇵🇸

Mohammad (@mohammedh79) is currently stranded alone in the north of Gaza, away from his family. Prices for food and water in Gaza are extremely high, especially in the north.

Mohammad's brother, Mahmoud (@ma7moudgaza2), has given up on his dream of rebuilding their family home after it was destroyed by Israeli shelling (paid for with US tax dollars), in order to help his brother have enough to eat.

Evacuation fundraisers are urgently important, but maintaining life within Gaza is also urgent--and funds are sometimes rerouted from evacuation to food needs as necessary. We should trust Palestinians currently in Gaza to know what their most essential needs are.

Mohammad needs about $720 USD a month to meet his needs for basic sustenance. This amounts to about $180 a week--but only $5 has been donated in the past several days.

Both brothers have been repeatedly displaced by IOF forces, are threatened daily by bombing, and have very inconsistent and slow internet. I hope that you will help me keep this campaign alive on their behalf.

[Mahmoud's campaign has been vetted by @/sar-soor and is #149 on @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi's vetted fundraiser spreadhseet. I have been in personal contact with both brothers and seen government IDs, bank information, photos of daily life, and the like, and I am very confident that this need is legitimate.]

$5 / $180 raised for the week

PayPal

Venmo: @gothhabiba

Cashapp: $NajiaK

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ethereal-night-fairy · 9 months

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Mistletoe Kisses Part 1

Poly!141 x GN reader

Let's see which one of the boys can get the most kisses from you during this Christmas season.

Poly Masterlist

AGELESS BLOGS AND MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Words: 1.1k

The base has been weird for the last couple of weeks. It's unfortunate that not many people were given permission to leave and spend time with their families this holiday season. You and taskfore 141 had an upcoming mission to leave for right after New Year's day so everyone was stuck on base preparing. You've tried your best to liven everyone's spirits by decorating the common room and mess hall with lights and a Christmas tree. You had even managed to jokingly put some mistletoe in strategic places to get some of the recruits laughing. It was a little joy and laughter in an otherwise shitty situation. Gaz and Soap seemed to be having a great old time utilising the mistletoe every chance they get. It was endearing to see that they had such a close friendship.

Your friends back home were like that too. Kissing and hugging each other for laughs. It was quite nostalgic to witness it on base. You've seen The Captain and your lieutenant having fun with the mistletoe too. Giving each other kisses on the cheek or forehead. They did the same when they caught anyone else from the taskforce underneath it. You've been extra careful not to loiter around it. Though Soap and Gaz have tried but you just ended up scurring off before they could pull you underneath it. The base seemed a lot more festive and full of joy and were glad the effort you put into everything was paying off.

You had managed to also get small gifts for everyone, even the new additions to the base. It wasn't anything special, just small little gifts of sweets and chocolates. Though you did splurge a little with your teammates getting Price his favourite cigars and Ghost his favourite bottle of bourbon. With Soap and Gaz you were more playful with your gifts. Soap was going to receive some scotch and a scotch glass with the Scottish flag on in. You know since he's so patriotic. Gaz was a little harder to shop for but you ended up settling on hand knitted jumper. He had mentioned to you that his nan used to gift him one every Christmas. So an idea popped into your head to knit him the most god awful jumper anyone has ever seen. It was a poor looking jumper but you had tried your best. You wanted it to look tacky but in a cute way. Though you severely overestimated your knitting skills. It did look tacky but also poorly made. Who knew knitting would be so hard? You also got him his favourite alcohol. Hopefully by the time he opened your gift the alcohol would make it look a lot nicer than it was. Everything was prettily packaged and put under the captain's tree in his office.

You place the last of the dinner prep in the fridge. Everything was seasoned and marinated. All you had to do tomorrow was put everything in the oven and make the gravy and sides. You were glad the guys were warming up to you. For the longest time it felt like you were intruding on the tight knit group of theirs. They were very affectionate to each other more so than any other group you've seen. It made sense that they were cautious about you in the beginning. But recently you feel much closer to them. They were beginning to show you the same affection they reserved for each other. It was a surprise the first time Gaz had engulfed you in a bear hug after a mission had gone wrong. You both had barely made it out alive. Since that scare you felt they paid more attention to you. They always seemed to be on high alert when on missions with you. The casual hugs and pats were received more frequently now. They even started flirting with you like they did with each other.

You'd brush it off as military humour. A lot of the recruits did that too, it was nothing new. So you didn't really mind when their hands would linger jokingly while moving you to get something. Or when someone tried flirting with you at a bar one of them always had their arms wrapped around you. They also liked pinning you down during sparring sessions. They would laugh at you when you couldn't escape their hold. It was really frustrating sometimes. Then again, hand to hand combat wasn't your strong suit. But it was all fun and games between teammates so no harm done. The only thing that was getting a bit much was them trying to kiss you under the mistletoe. They were treating it as a competition. One you didn't want part in considering they probably made a bet on it. They did these stupid bets quite often since getting closer to you. You shake your head as you go to get ready for bed. You had an early start tomorrow.

You slide into your warm covers happy and content looking forward to the next day.

“How have none of us managed to get at least one kiss from them?”, Gaz huffs as he sits on the captain's desk. Price caresses his hips and thighs as he goes over the plan of the upcoming mission.

“You muppets probably scared them off”, He blows out a puff of smoke from his cigar as Gaz moves away from him annoyed.

“It doesn't help that they know where all the mistletoe is placed”, Ghost comments as walks behind Price's chair as he discusses his formation and position for the stakeout.

“Aye we only have till tomorrow. We should move the mistletoe”, Soap offers as he inspected the wrapped presents under Price's tree. Gaz comes up behind him smacking his head when he catches him trying to open his. “Come on then let's go move the mistletoe while they're asleep”, Gaz drags Soap by the arm who's rubbing his head. They leave to change the locations of the mistletoe you had placed at the start of the month.

“Sometimes I wonder how they managed to pass selection”, Ghost murmeres under his breath, managing to get chuckle from his Captain.

“Did you wrap the present we all got them?”, Price inquiries while writing something down on the file.

“It's under the tree with the rest of them….Do you think they'll like it?”, Ghost asks eyeing his Captain and lover. Price looks up from his file with a twinkle in his sapphire eyes.

“we'll find out won't we?”, He gives Simon his warmest smile, before giving him a tender kiss when he bends down.

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harrietvane · 4 months

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So, in Busman’s Homeymoon, Lord Peter buys Harriet Vane a mink cloak worth 950 pounds (according to the Dowager Duchess’ journal entry), but he buys Tallboys for “only” 650 pounds.

Even bearing in mind that real estate really did used to be cheaper, do you understand how that is possible? Or how to find out more about relative purchasing power? I used an online calculator website which gave me some figures, but it still seems insane that one could buy an entire Elizabethan farmhouse for 2/3 the price of a garment! Very curious to learn from others who understand this better than I do.

Ah, I see my esteemed colleague @oldshrewsburyian has also had some interesting thoughts on this, so I'll link that here as well before I begin.

So, it's a legitmate question, and there's no catch-all simple answer (in the gotcha sense of 'why didn't i know that bit of cultural Truth'), but there are mitigating factors that take it from a ridiculous price comparison, to merely outlandish. Even taking into account that the coat is quoted in guineas, not pounds, and that PW says the bank valued Talboys at £800 via a mortgage (the paid price was a discount, for paying in cash quickly, which is Plot Relevant), it gets us to roughly the same place, value-wise. Or shall we say PRICE-wise, rather than value, as I'll get into below. There's several factors at play here - they mainly relate to class, and spending power:

-The house is Not That Great, in terms of the kind of property that PW would usually be buying. I mean it is still a large-ish house, big enough to have 2 adults and small children in, but it's not what would be on his radar normally. The only reason they know about it, it that it's near a place where HARRIET grew up as a child. It's not getting any high marks in particular Beauty, Convenience, or Quality - the main reason HV's drawn to it is sentiment, rather than anything else. They both know that they will have to significantly add to it, and alter it, in order for it to be a comfortable home. That would usually be out-of-budget for someone in Harriet's position, who would expect to buy something that meets her needs 'as-is'. Most people looking at buying that house would be Harriets not Peters, so it might be a tough sell.

-The house has no power, and limited plumbing: There's dark references to DRAINS by the dowager duchess, it's entirely possible that this house has no modern plumbing at all - they make the comparison that the huge palace the Wimseys grew up in wasn't plumbed until recently, but then again they do have about 800 servants, whereas Talboys is just a regular house: they will have Bunter alone (at first), with an assist from Mrs Ruddle. There's mention of "a cistern" with some basic valves, but the scullery is mentioned as having a copper, from which hot water is "scooped into a large bath-can" - a copper being, simply, a large metal basin over a fire, in effect. No running hot water, maybe no flushable loos - it's a factor. They also talk specifially about having to electrify Talboys themselves - it's candles and lamps until then. It's fancy camping. By the mid-1930s, a lot of middle-class buyers would expect a little more convenience in both water and wiring, unless they had significant support staff, which Talboys would not be expected to house.

-There's probably no farm! It's a farm house - not a wider land purchase. People like PW's brother the Duke are wealthy primarily because they own land, not because of the big palace they have (which eats money, rather than generates it). The land is what gives them spending power, because other people are paying them rent to live on it, farm on it, or both. PW's own personal 'younger sibling' wealth is also mentioned somewhere to be primarily in real estate (assumed to be in London) - sad to say: he's a landlord, and that's why he's rich. Talboys, on the other hand, as a purchase, would not, in almost any way, be expected to generate revenue through either farming, agriculture, or charging rent. Until they invent house flipping in 80 years, or until the motorway goes through in 40 years, there's not much expectation that Talboys would increase all that much in value.

-Lastly, there's a massive disparity in what The Market Will Bear when we compare a basic residence vs a luxury item (like a mink coat) in the mid-1930s. This is not particular to that time, though. Like any first-year economics student will tell you, the price of something is not it's intrinsic value, it's what someone is WILLING to pay for it. If someone is willing to pay such a price, that's the price it will be. So, we're not comapring Objects, we're comparing Buyers: the the main purchasers of a slightly run-down farmhouse located nowhere special are Harriets, and main purchasers of mink coats are Peters. Talboys is priced for Harriets. The mink coat is priced for Peters.

Compare for example, a contemporary parallel: the Hermes Birkin bag. It's a leather handbag with a starting retail price of about USD 11,400. Just for the bag. Then, you have fancier versions of the fancy bag, eg wikipedia tells me one version sold at auction for USD 380,000 in Hong Kong in 2017. Now, the Harriets of today are not buying a Hermes Birkin handbag, but they are probably trying to buy slightly run-down houses outside urban centers for (one hopes) slightly less than 380k. The Wimseys of the worlds are clearly buying Birkin bags. In that way, it's actually pretty easy to get to a place where Person A might buy a single luxury item for X pounds, and Person B might buy a whole residence for X pounds, and neither feel like they'd done something insane. The key here is in a Wimsey/Vane marriage, they run up against this concept immediately, and repeatedly.

There's a good reason the first epistolary section of the novel is almost entirely taken up with money chat - the ring, the purchase of shirts from Burlington Arcade, the marriage settlement, the gift from the bride to the groom, the mink coat, the bitchy exchange between Helen and Harriet about HV being allowed "six free copies of her book" to distribute. These people come from 2 fundamentally different experiences of the world. They might have gotten engaged using the word 'Magistra', specifically to emphasise their fundamental equality (in the context of learning and the mind, to begin with), but it can't be denied: there's gaps that need to be bridged. They both know parts of their married life will be spent in attempting to do that, hopefully to their mutual satisfaction. Mention of a mink coat for 950 guineas is a nice, neat shorthand for illustrating what's still at play between them here.

#dorothy l sayers #and this isn't even getting into the delicious things like #a) helen being considered unspeakably vulgar by calling attention to the price of HV's ring but #b) peter being considered friendly and polite by openly stating what he paid for talboys #like these are some delicate class rules at play here! when to mention money and when NOT to mention money! context matters!#here's so much going on - this is (I feel) what DLS means when she says she couldn't simply marry them off #they'd have to really engage with what that would mean #and then she wrote 2 whole novels about it #replies #fromthedeskofcripslock

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akutasoda · 3 months

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Hii! How are you? I hope you're well!

I have a request,,, Roommate with Aventurine collage au if possible? Reader recently just bought a house but can't really support themselves so they ask one of their friends if they want to move in with them with a few agreements, none of them want to since they already have a place to stay not until Aventurine comes by.. Reader close friends? Are they even friends? Wait of course they are. Aventurine tell reader he wants to move in with them. What? Well I guess there's no other opinion since reader money is tight.

Atlas Aventurine finally moved in with them, it's a bit surprising considering that he's rich.. why would he want to move in with reader anyway? Ahem thing has been great.. a little to great reader was wondering why they never received any electricity bill that they need to pay along said with water bill.. it turns out Aventurine already paid both of it without reader knowledge since he will definitely get scolded... But what is this? Aventurine? Holding them close.. huh? Confusion came to reader. Aventurine never been this so love affection, unless.. no way right?.. they never thought they might end up falling in love with Aventurine. They're just friends.. now way this can happen. Oh well.. maybe begin in relationship with Aventurine isn't bad after all.. right?

This ended up longer than I expected HELP 😭 I'm craving for angst.. but probably need to stop before I start digging my own grave 🚶 I am not ok 😇 it can be fluff, angst comfort.. or just some wholesome love story.. reader is gender natural 🫂

history hates roomates

synopsis - you decide to room with someone you barely knew but you become very well acquainted, almost too well

includes - aventurine ft topaz + ratio

warnings - gn!reader, college/modern au, maybe ooc, fluff, slight crack, slight angst towards the end, wc - 2.7k

a/n: im doing well! hope you are aswell!

college seemed great. you had been accepted into your ideal collage and had made some great, hopefully lifelong, friends. however, the only issue was that you needed to look for a place to stay for the rest of your course. getting to and from college was becoming more hassle than what it was worth as you didn't take up the initial offer of dorms, but now you were deeply regretting that decision. you had spent hours scrolling on the college's website looking at the dorms in hopes of someone putting out a request for a roomate but nothing ever seemed to come about.

in honesty, you were getting tired of constantly looking for places to stay that reduced the amount you needed to travel - you cursed yourself for not taking up the dorm offer when you first got accepted. a sigh escaped you as you were getting bored of searching and decided that it might be better to turn in for the the night but one listing caught you're eye. it was a decently sized house, designed for student stay as the college would sponsor some similar places, that was within a walkable range of your college, it seemed almost perfect if the pricing wasn't so steep but you were desperate at this point so you contacted the lister and showed your interest just in case someone decided to take it before you could - maybe tomorrow you could ask a friend to go halves?

---✩

even as you walked toward your first class of the day, all you could think about was who might be willing to go halves with you on the place. hopes weren't exactly high as it was quite pricey on it's own but in contrast to some of the dormitories it wasn't that bad! your brain was practically on autopilot as you walked into your class and sat down at your designated seat.

maybe if one person wouldn't be willing to go halves, you could ask two friends? however, the more reasonable part of yourself knew that most people either had dorms or were fine with how they got to college daily. you were so engrossed with thinking of a solution that it barely registered that topaz, and numby, had sat beside you.

numby caught your attention first as topaz used that opportunity to pose the question 'everything alright over there? you seemed pretty lost in thought'

to be honest, nobody knew how topaz managed to have numby by her side at all times on campus, some rumours were that she simply paid the headmaster. it was to be expected that not many people wanted to be sat next to the whitette in class with numby always being there, fortunately you weren't all that fussed with the critter - it became rather adorable after a while. so sitting next to topaz had let you become extremely close with her and eventually friends.

'well it could be better' you eventually responded 'i finally found a place near enough to the college but it's rather expensive, kind of need someone to room with'

numby perked it's head and topaz hummed in acknowledgement before adding 'i'm sure you can find someone, ask around a bit and see'

'i only found it last night so i haven't had the chance to ask yet, but i will' you paused before realising 'would you room with me?'

'as much as i would love to, i've got my own dorm here but you shouldn't have a problem finding someone else' she plastered an almost guilty smile on her face 'sorry though'

a small sigh escaped you 'no it's fine, im more at fault for not taking up a dorm originally'

the door to the class opened and you both watched as the professor walked in, topaz leaned over and whispered 'i'll come find you at lunch and we can talk about this later', you nodded and she nodded back.

---✩

your class finished slightly earlier than normal and so you decided to wait outside of topaz's class for the last couple of minutes. while you waited you decided that it might be a good idea to have another look to see what else might've been listed and double check that the lister was still holding the accomodation for you - they had been very generous so far and you didn't want to test their patience and make them wait too long for a final answer, mainly because they're probably was a handful of students also eyeing up the place.

luckily topaz hadn't made you wait too long and you three walked to the normal spot that you'd hang out at. topaz sat opposite you and immediately she demanded to see the place you were looking at.

'defiantly worth finding a roomate for this place, it looks pretty decent for it's price, as steep as it may be' she scrolled through the details to confirm and take a final look at the images, even numby was looking over her shoulder doing small jumps in agreement.

you huffed slightly 'but who would be a decent roommate? it's not like im asking for a lot but im going have to see them everyday and every night until i graduate' you wish that your situation was a bit more fortunate, that way you wouldn't have to find a roommate and just rent the property for yourself.

topaz smiled 'yeah some roommates aren't the best but again, im sure you could ask another friend who doesn't have anywhere?' she watched as your expression made you seem extremely fed up and she only laughed 'i know i know, it's not that simple'

she handed your phone back and paused before adding 'i could always put some words out in your favour, some people i know haven't got anywhere'

'like me?' both you and topaz turned your heads to the approaching blondette.

'i wouldn't wish that fate on anyone' topaz sneered at him

he feined a small laugh 'you're words hurt me but surely im not that bad?' he turned to you and smiled 'so what about it?'

you were shocked at his straight forwardness, he hadn't even seen the property yet, and how did he even know you were looking for a roommate specifically? you weren't exactly jumping at the idea to room with someone who was practically a stranger to you either.

'not to be rude, but rooming with someone i barely know is quite bold, surely you must understand that' you glanced quickly over to topaz who was practically glaring daggers at him.

'i do understand that but any friend of topaz is a friend of mine, if she can get one thing right it's a decent taste in friends' he smiled at topaz and she looked ready to punch him.

you did know that aventurine was an accomplice of topaz, you weren't to sure if they were friends or not though. in honesty, he was a safe bet for a roommate. like topaz, you knew he was quite wealthy and so he could always pay his half of the rent and on time which would be ideal but again, you barely knew him and surely he could afford his own accomodation by himself?

'look, i can see your hesitation but i promise that i'd be an ideal roomate and i could even pay more than my intended dues if you wish?' aventurine looked all too happy for you're liking but really what other choice would you have, you doubted that you could find another roomate anytime soon, it was a gamble but maybe it'd pay off?

'alright fine but surely you'd like to see the property first?' you posed and he shook his head

'im sure that you chose a great place, just send me the details later and when you plan on moving in, tomorrow's more ideal yes?' he paused and then added 'topaz can give you my number' then he simply walked away with a wave goodbye.

---✩

true to his word, you sent him the details later that night and before you knew it, you were stood outside your new accommodation the very next morning. it felt a bit like a fever dream honestly, the accommodation that seemed idyllic was now where you'd stay until graduation but at the cost of rooming with someone who you barely knew - topaz didn't exactly help with her telling you that she wouldn't room with him for all the money in the world.

aventurine arrived shortly after you did, in a car that clearly had a personal driver, he greeted you with a smile and when ypu asked him where his stuff was he assured you it was arriving later and he wanted you to have first pick on your room. it still felt rather surreal to you but you tried pushing those thoughts behind and tried to be more grateful about finally having accommodation more convenient to the college.

and even a week later he was true to his word, aventurine was an ideal roomate. almost too ideal. you were yet again hanging with topaz and numby at lunch and she was very curious as to how much longer you could fair with him as a roomate but to her surprise you could only give positives.

he was always very considerate of your space and anything you owned, he would make for surprisingly good company and was just overall, extremely easy to live beside. the only downside you could think of was that it could still be a bit awkward between you two when talking but considering that you two were practically living together, it was expected to become easier as even after a week it felt much better than before.

although, recently a concern has a risen that you may be behind on your rent and bills. nothing had arrived in the mail and it was worrying because you didn't want to be kicked out, so you reached out and asked just to be told that they'd all been paid. a split second of confusion overcame you but it quickly dissolved when you realised exactly who was paying your side of the rent and bill. it may not seem that bad but in the agreement it was made extremely clear that both parties would pay half of the overall total, no debate. you needed to talk to him about this.

'has something happened?' aventurine asked looking extremely confused, he'd barely stepped foot in the accommodation before he noticed you waiting for him with your arms crossed.

'yes, without me knowing, you answered before continuing 'i realised that i haven't received the rent and bills in a while, so i asked'-

'i know, i should've told you but surely it's not that big of a deal?' he cut you off, 'i already told you before that i wouldn't mind paying more than i needed to'

'yes but that's beside the point, i just wish that you would've asked me or told me even' it was true that it wasn't a big deal but you felt bad that he was paying more than agreed

'that's understandable, but i take it that you won't make me stop paying for them?' a smirk crawled it's way onto his face and he watched you mutter out a 'whatever' before walking toward you.

'will this suffice for an apology' he said before giving you a hug. he pulled away fairly quickly to see your shocked face and proceeded to walk past you and ruffle your hair, to which you quickly snapped around and yelled at him and he only laughed.

---✩

it had now been quite the while since you started rooming with aventurine. naturally, you two had become much more well acquainted to the point that you call him a friend. even after all this time, he still held up being an ideal roommate and this convinced you even more that this was a fever dream. it baffled you that you now sometimes hung out with him at college aswell.

he had informed you earlier today that he would be back a bit later than usual as he was joining a couple of people to an event, formal or not you didn't quite know. aventurine promised that he would try and not be a disturbance on returning but at this point you wouldn't mind if he was. but you settled to just tell him to have fun and that you don't mind when he comes back, he didn't really have to tell you either but the thought was sweet.

however you didn't expect to be woken up by the doorbell at who knows what time in the morning. you sleepily managed to get to the door and unlock it only to be greeted with two figures - one a very clearly tipsy aventurine and the other being the top student at the college, veritas ratio.

'apologies for the inconvenience but i tried warning the gambler to watch his intake, however he clearly didn't listen to me' ratio started 'again apologies but you're going have to take him now, you are his roommate afterall'

'it's fine really, i don't mind that much' you answered, brain still half clouded with a sleepy fog. ratio nodded and helped you steady aventurine against you with his arm around your shoulder before wishing you luck and leaving. you quickly tried to lock the door again so you could escort aventurine into his room.

with some difficulty, you finally managed to get him into his room. admittedly you'd never been in it before and you felt a little bad about entering but you couldn't just lay him down on the ground outside his door, well you could but that would be unfair. he'd have to deal with the fact that he was going to sleep in his current attire but you doubted that be the top of his concerns in the morning.

however you didn't anticipate aventurine to grab onto you as you tried your best to leave quietly. as you were attempting to pry yourself away you heard him mumble a simple request 'just stay a little while'

you sighed and for some reason you decided to comply, you told yourself that you would stay until he fell asleep then you'd leave and go back to your room. or atleast that was the plan before aventurine took your compliance and wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a hug - that's fine, it just made it harder to leave but you could manage, is what you told yourself.

unfortunately, you never managed to pry yourself from aventurine and you're sleepy state made it easier to fall asleep then and there. however, you woke up before aventurine and managed to scramble before he woke up, although he woke up not too long after and met you, rather guilty, in the kitchen.

he seemed to remember last night as he started with 'i apologise for my behaviour last night, i wasn't quite in control of myself' he barely could meet your eyes shich was very uncharacteristic for the outgoing blonde and you knew that he probably never wanted to bring this up again.

'it's fine, you were slightly tipsy and it's understandable, barely anything happened either so it's completely fine' you noticed that he still looked rather sad

'thank you' he replied for going back upstairs.

it couldn't be ignored, the somber tone that filled the house felt almost suffocating. in honesty, you found it sweet that he trusted you enough to ask you to stay with him but he was drunk, you knew aventurine wasn't that affectionate but he still seemed to hold a sense of consciousness... no, you were overthinking. you two were friends, that's it. so maybe it was bad you both wished for something more than friends...

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

#—stellaronhvnters.#x reader #x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x you #hsr x reader #honkai star rail aventurine #hsr aventurine #aventurine x you #aventurine x reader

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romanoffsbish · 11 months

Text

The Tournament

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Natasha was never one to shy away from a challenge, and your body paid the ultimate price. | WC: 1,254

Natasha was exhausted.

It had been ten hours of this. On and off

Mostly on, and you, well you were not cognizant.

——

The redhead had mistakenly read one of Tony's world record books, it was a gag that he childishly bought. In the section dedicated to fornication she had read that the longest "episode of sex" to have been recorded, with no change in intimacy partners, was five hours long. So of course, Natasha Romanoff, the competitive devil, took the challenge on to double it, ensuring that no one (human-wise) ever beat her record.

You knew when you met her on the battlefield that she was an overachiever. It was the way that she had been graceful the entire time she choked the enemy with her beefy, as well as soft, thighs. To the now, where she fell beside you with an arm that held no functionality. All of the adrenaline faded and she huffed a tired chuckle.

What a night it had been she mused within the hollow confines of her dimming mind. Though sore she was able to get out of bed and work to clean you up. The moment you two had hit hour eight you were snoring. Natasha admired the way your body convulsed with every sleep time orgasm, even if you couldn't feel it, you were having the time of your unconscious life.

The you of the morning will be gobsmacked and in some way turned on. Your vagina that should be in ruins would likely pulse with a sharp, painful need. For now though she settled your core beneath a pair of fresh panties and slipped you up the bed and onto the pillows that were designed for you. Then she cleaned up the room of any evidence. She took the toys down to the small, second kitchen you had and tossed them into the designated dishwasher. Then she finished off the tray of peanut butter sandwiches she'd made for the nights necessary fuel station. She also had vodka, and an assortment of chocolate and fruit to munch on.

The rules of the book stated that breaks that lasted less than three minutes were ebbed into the flow of things.

Natasha was terrified to let you down, and by you she meant her very annoying sense of pride. Which is why the night started off with you in the captains position. Your soft lips painted her skin a lovely blend of maroon and lilac, the blue to forge a galaxy would come later.

The way she mewled for you felt pornographic, and then you remembered she had planned to record this for proof. You shakily agreed so she set up five cameras around the room. At each two hour mark when she stopped to drink some water or bite into a peanut butter sandwich she'd stop the one and start the other when she was back. Each clip got a different angle, each with their own feature and timestamped to the second to further prove the breaks weren't prolonged.

Natasha nearly killed you when her knees locked behind your head; but you didn't mind. You whispered a prayer against her pussy that she'd hopefully find you in paradise one day, then she came with a miracle on the dancing tastebuds of your tongue. Oxygen filled your lungs just as it excavated hers, the both of you spluttered as you choked on her slick, and she forgot how to breathe in place of the dizzying pleasure.

Thirty minutes down, but you were far from tired. It showed in the wild irises Natasha's soft emeralds met. Whenever you looked at her like that she lost all of her sense of authority. You'd flipped her over and fingered her while backhanding and palming at her smooth ass. Natasha grunted at each slap then moaned at the thrusts, it was husky and made your body tremble.

Natasha chased every single high you offered her, and she was near to losing count when you slowed down. You'd made it to hour three, and that's when the need to rest began to set in. Natasha saw it, and flipped you over so she could take over. You'd lasted longer than anytime before in one straight session and she was so incredibly proud, but more importantly turned on.

"Fuck Y/N," she panted against your cheek as her fingers slid through your slick folds. "You made me cum eight times and my pussy is still throbbing as you moan in my ear." Her lips lowered further, hot breath tickled your ear and you giggled breathily. "Keep going my sweet girl, you're in for a long night so keep it up."

You did your best too, entertaining her with answers to her filthy questions, moaning and thrashing as she found a new way to get you to your new best orgasm, but then your lethargy began to set in once again.

At hour six Natasha had sat your limp form up and nourished you back to life within the time constraint. Offering you a bit more enjoyment before the eventual KO took place. Your cries turned into whimpers, then choked moans until the sound of skin slapping and slick sliding was all she could focus on as she thrusted.

There was no time to feel any aches when focusing on keeping your body mindlessly jolting so Natasha built up her mental walls and in the long run gave herself carpal tunnel. In the end she felt it was worth it, as she won the fictitious title of "longest sex (love making) session ever recorded," and then she found you three days later after coming home early (at midnight as opposed to 7am) with your fingers inside you as your eyes were transfixed on her head between your legs.

"Wanna make a new record?" You jumped up and held your slick hand out in front of you to stall her request from happening, but all the redhead did was lunge and take your fingers into her greedy mouth. She moaned at the uniquely tangy taste, but her eyes creased in contradiction as your slivered nail scraped her palate.

"I need to taste you," she grunted and you gasped, "Natasha baby please." She shushed you with a bruising kiss and rubbed your cunt against her latex suit. You choked on her tongue and she chuckled, "It's okay detka, you can admit that you need me, I'm here."

"I'm sensitive," you whimpered and she kissed the bridge of your nose in comfort. "I'll be gentle detka, I just want to spend four hours talking to your pussy. Gonna tell you all the reasons why I love you while your moans convey the same message back to me."

"Please," you were breathless now and this time you were beckoning her closer instead of away. She pecked your lips then pulled away abruptly to keep her focus on a shower, while also making you stumble. "Get on the bed with nothing on detka, keep your hands to yourself and sit pretty while I take my quick shower."

"Be fast mommy," you cried and she cackled as the door shut, showing you her intentions to edge you.

You smirked, excited that your plan had worked, much unlike your legs would come morning; Natasha would now likely spend the entire week at your beck and call.

In the end, everyone wins.

Well, except for Tony, who had to fork out the cash for sound proofing the walls and sending Steve to therapy.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff blurb #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #gxg #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader

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olomaya · 1 year

Text

Smoking+ (Mild Teenage Delinquency)

*cue the Spongebob 2 Years Later meme*

28-Sept Update: Added Brazilian Portuguese translations (thank you @cs2te!). Fixed an issue where there was no exit to the Sell Fake ID interaction. For those that have the Religion mod, you don't need a separate RM specific version, just download/redownload the main Overhaul package.

3-Sep Update: Thanks to ProtectusCZ over at MTS who let me know about a string issue with the vape flavors. That's been fixed so the flavors should not show up as blank when you are filling/refilling the cartridge. Also the smoking durations should now be tunable so you can adjust them in Retuner.

Czech version now available thanks to ProtectusCZ

2-Sep Update: If you have my religion mod installed, please download this version HERE (alt: here) to replace the main mod file. If you don't and don't want it, carry on.

This is the updated version of my overhaul of Cmomoney's Smoking mod which you can find here (original here). This update adds new features like vaping as well as more delinquency options for your teens by way of fake IDs.

Please read the full instructions after the cut before downloading.

Credits: Fake ID from @aroundthesims. And of course the OG smoking mod from Cmomoney on MTS.

I think that's it. Enjoy ruining your Sims' health and well-being. If you run into any issues, please let me know.

What does it do:

Everything my previous mod did

Sims can now sit and chat with others while smoking

I updated the way addiction works in the game. Previously it was just based on a random number of times smoked but now it's more nuanced and based on how often you smoke and certain trait and lifestyle factors (for example, if you have other smokers in your household, you're more likely to get a smoking habit)

Cigarettes and smoking items can now ONLY be purchased in a special section at the grocery store by YAs and above. You will see a new interaction in the store RH called "Shop for Cigarettes". Teens can get around this by using a fake ID.

Fake IDs

Teens can purchase fake IDs from:

Any common criminal (Sim in the criminal career Level 4 or below)

Any teen that has a fake ID

You can offer a price and based on your offer, the dealer will either accept or reject.

Rebellious, Computer Whiz or teens with high Rebel Influence Skill can also buy fake IDs online. The underground online market for IDs moves very quickly so prices change every time you check but will never go higher than §500 or lower than §50. Once you purchase, the ID will be mailed to your home the next day.

HOWEVER, you need to make sure you get to the package first. If your parent gets the package and opens it, then all teens in the house will get in trouble. The one who ordered the fake will get a special moodlet that will allow them 24 hours to confess to doing it. If they confess to their sibling(s), the sibling will either forgive and agree to keep quiet or they will get mad and have the opportunity to snitch to a parent. If the wrongdoer confesses to a parent, it will exonerate the other teens but also potentially get them into bigger trouble with both their parents and their siblings.

Fake IDs aren’t foolproof. If you use it in the store, there’s a chance you will get busted and your fake ID will be confiscated. The chance is based on how young your teen is and the quality of the fake ID. Fake ID quality is determined when you purchase, based on the price you paid so you may want to think twice before jumping on that §60 fake.

Vaping

Sims can now vape, vaping pens can be found where you buy cigarettes.

Vaping pens cost §300 with a cartridge that needs to be filled before you can use and then after every 10 uses. You can buy a regular cartridge or a flavored one and the costs are varied but are all between §200-§300. (I know, it's an expensive habit.)

Vaping is not as unhealthy as smoking regular cigarettes, is less addictive and doesn't leave your Sim with a smoke smell.

For teens, vaping will still get them in trouble if they are caught by a parent doing it.

Known Issues:

There are no IK targets on the sitting animations (they kept floating above the chairs when I added them) so teens will sink a little into the chair because they're smaller than adults.

Download here | SFS alternative

#s3cc #s3cc download #download #sims 3 cc #smokingmod

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ddejavvu · 1 year

Note

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMjPBa9qJ/

Ok but this with Anakin!! It would totally work on him! I love that you’re writing for Anakin now you do it so well 🫶🫶

thank you!! you're so sweet <3 i think if i'm good at it it's because i've been in love with him since middle school maybe

You strike while his brain is foggy with sleep, perhaps cruel on your part to combine two sedatives. The natural one, the chemicals his brain slowly releases as the night winds down to lull him into a dozy state, and the pointed tips of your nails, paid for by the very man you inflict them upon.

You reach out and scratch at the base of Anakin's spine, sending a shiver up its length. He's turned away from you only because you're doing some late night reading, and the glow of your screen is too invasive for him to sleep through. He groans at the feeling of your fingernails raking up his spine as you slowly drag them up his back, scratching at the fabric of his heather gray t-shirt.

"Don't stop," He pleads, half-asleep and unfiltered. You indulge him, tracing sprawling spirals over the expanse of his broad, toned back. He seems to melt into the mattress below him, and when you're sure he's barely containing himself from becoming a puddle of goop, you whisper, "Ani?"

"Hm?" He replies, and his voice is just the perfect amount of sappy-mushy-sleepy-gushy; you know you'll get what you want.

"Will you make pancakes tomorrow?" You hum, "The really fancy ones, with the fruit-flavored batter?"

"Sure," He hums casually, like you'd merely asked him to blink. On the contrary, Anakin's rather complicated recipe for flavored pancakes, for special occasions only due to its strenuous nature, is something he normally grouches about.

"Thanks, baby." You scratch up towards the base of his neck with your nails, lingering for only a minute more before you let your hand slink back to the screen that's displaying your novel. You think you've won, you think he's drifted off to sleep without fully realizing the gravity of the situation, but all of a sudden he turns over to face you, eyes both squinted and drooping at the same time, a sight you never thought was possible, much less this endearing.

"Did you mind trick me?" He asks, his glare scrutinizing.

You try to fight off your triumphant grin, "What? What are you talking about?"

"You tricked me," He huffs incredulously, and you feign innocence.

"You're the Jedi, Ani." You try turning back to your book, but he's not having it.

"You did that thing with your nails," He reaches an arm out from under the blankets to snatch up your hand, pulling it to his face to inspect it. His eyes narrow as he stares at your fingertips, examining your nails, "Do these things give you a connection to the Force, or something? How'd you do that?"

You snap your nails at him, scratching playfully at his fingers and retracting your hand when he yelps, "Don't be ridiculous, Anakin."

"You conned me!" He insists, his grin bright now that some of his sleepiness has worn off, "This is ridiculous, you owe me at least twenty more minutes of back scratches if I'm making you pancakes in the morning."

Your initial instinct is to fight it, even though you'd love nothing more than to scratch your nails along his muscled back for hours on end. But you catch yourself, thinking about the pair of boots you'd seen while window shopping earlier, their price a bit too high for you to justify an impulse purchase.

"Alright, Ani." You agree, and you see his brow twitch at the eagerness in your tone, "Roll over, I'll scratch your back until you fall asleep."

"Okay..." He turns like you instruct him to, but he cranes his head to peer over his shoulder at you as you start up your nails against his back once more. His eyes are narrowed, and his hair is messy enough that it nearly covers one of them. He watches you, and you keep your eyes pointedly on your screen, avoiding his scrutiny. Finally he turns, and you wait until he's minutes away from sleep to strike.

"Ani?" You croon, nails dancing along his left side, "Will you buy me new boots?"

"Mhm," He hums groggily, nodding easily into his pillow, "Anything you want, angel."

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker scenario #anakin skywalker oneshot #anakin skywalker one-shot #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skywalker headcanon #anakin skywalker headcanons #anakin skywalker hcs #anakin skywalker hc #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker blurb #anakin skywalker drabble #anakin skywalker dialogue #anakin skywalker fluff

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 7 months

Text

Perfect Find

Steven Grant x GN!Reader • Rating: PG •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •

Summary: You and Steven look through the local charity shops.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: Just some fluffy old fluff.

Warnings: swearing, set in the UK, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 590

You gasp excitedly as you hold up the shirt. “Steven, what about this one?”

His eyes light up when he sees it and rushes around from the other side of the clothing rail. “It’s perfect!” He touches the material lightly, it’s cotton, or at least some kind of cotton blend. Whatever it was, it doesn’t make him feel like he needs to peel his skin off after coming into contact with it.

“This charity shop has everything,” he laughs as he takes the shirt, a short sleeved button down, out of your hands and looks at the price. £6.00, not bad.

The shirt itself is a vibrant sky blue, intercut with swirls of white that in all honestly neither of you are one hundred percent sure if they are meant to be clouds or waves. Though most likely the latter considering the main pattern of the material. It is covered with swimming goldfish, all from a bird’s eye perspective.

You notice the black t-shirt slung in the crook of Steven’s arm and point to it. “Found something else?”

It takes him a moment to drag his eyes away from the goldfish before he looks up to you and smiles. “For Marc.”

You’re about to say how thoughtful that is of him, until Steven holds the t-shirt up and you can read the text on the front. ‘My depression is chronic, but this ass is iconic.’

You can’t help the sudden bout of laughter that spills from your lips. “Oh my god…”

“I know, right?” Steven gives you the biggest shit eating grin.

“He’s gonna hate that.”

“He is.” Steven says with an almost perverse glee. “Loathe it, utterly, utterly loathe it.”

You walk with Steven as he takes his purchases to the till. “Is this payback for him hiding your Hanukkah jumper?”

“Not in the slightest.” He grins. “Just part of the payback.”

You giggle.

“I’m gonna wear this t-shirt every time I know we’ve got planned switching time. See how long it takes before he notices the writing.”

“Could be a while.” You smile.

Marc was very observant when it came to outside things, other people, the landscape, he wasn’t however so concerned with what he was wearing as long as it was comfortable and fairly plain. The writing on the t-shirt was just small enough that there was a good chance he wouldn’t pay attention to it straight away. Especially if Steven put a hoodie or a plain-ish shirt over the top (unbuttoned of course).

“Oh, I intend to make sure it is.” Steven beamed as he then turned to the cashier, greeted them and paid for the shirt and t-shirt.

You absentmindedly touch the t-shirt as you put it into your canvas bag and sling it over your arm. It’s soft, comfortable. And you smile. You know, just as Steven does, that deep, deep, deep down, Marc will quite like the t-shirt.

He’ll grumble a little of course, probably give you both a playful roll of his eyes and tut. But he won’t take it off. He won’t throw it away.

You’ll find him wearing it of his own free will in bed, and on lazy mornings in the flat. And even outside when the urge takes him.

“I can carry those, love.” Steven smiles at you as you carry the bag, but you shake your head.

“It’s fine.”

He tuts, a sound that is so different to Marc, and kisses your cheek as you both head outside into the high street and the next charity shop.

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @romanarose @pimosworld @jake-g-lockley @saturn-rings-writes @boredzillenial @lonelyisamyw-0love @melodygatesauthor @steven-grants-world @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @queerponcho

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#moon knight events #moon knight bingo 2024 #steven grant #moon knight #moon knight mcu #steven grant x reader #x reader #steven grant x you #x you #steven grant x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #steven grant x gn!reader #x gn!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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lovelykhaleesiii · 2 years

Note

Hello!! I hope this is the right outlet to male a request ☺️ Reader has gone out to look for a remedy on Aemond's eye pain. When she comes back, finds Aemond looking relieved she is safe and angry she made him worry. hehe

this is just the sweetest thing, she notices the small things, how he winces and attempts to hide the pain. she'd do anything to make it all go away <3

Remedy

PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader.

WORDS: 1,212.

WARNINGS: fluff, soft!Aemond.

Although he tried to mask the pain, you were able to notice the small details. The way he would turn away from you, his hand swiftly massaging the temple near his lost eye, before resuming to whatever he was doing. You'd convinced yourself you'd even heard your husband awake, wincing from the sharp pain late at night. The site and wound had healed, now where his eye was held had been replaced by a glimmering sapphire gemstone.

It saddened you to see Aemond in such a state, trying to bury his own issues aside, for whatever reason he held. Perhaps he did not wish for others, especially you to consider him weak. Regardless, your conscious would not allow it to continue.

You'd enquired with the maesters if there was any type of remedy available to help rid Aemond of the pain. The only thing they'd known to be most effective and that they had supply of was milk of the poppy, although Aemond was never a fan of it. He hated how drowsy and lethargic it would make him feel, he avoided the cost of being inattentive.

The maesters suggested a herb that could be transformed into a topical ointment, that may help to numb the site without any severe side effects. Although much to your luck, they had just run out of the supply and were awaiting for stock to arrive, for the ingredient was hard to come by in Westeros. One of the younger maesters however, urged you to seek out certain markets in King's Landing that would sell the plant, for a pretty price.

"Not many people know, Princess, it is a very hard thing to come by. Although, these merchants are willing to sell for a decent cost."

"Then you shall take me to them!"

****

What felt like hours on end, the young master and yourself had searched countless markets and streets, without any luck. You'd left Aemond unaware of your errands, the Prince was busy training and attending council meetings, so you'd convinced yourself now was the time. However, much to your dismay, you hadn't realised how much time would be spent in search for such a delicate thing.

"There's a few more stalls I can take you to, Princess, but the hour is late. Mayhaps we try again another time."

"No, let us continue. There will be no need to come and go, just show me to the next seller, and be done with it today."

The stalls that you'd encountered, many merchants recognised you however none would question your whereabouts, for many feared the One-Eyed Prince himself. And as hopeful as they were to sell to a royal member, they were just as disappointed as you being unable to provide what you desired for.

As you walked towards the next stall, did you finally begin to realise how sore your feet and legs felt, walking through the narrow streets, the countless steps. But you know had the moment come, it would be worth it for Aemond.

And thankfully, your luck had finally struck!

“Here she is, the last of our supply. You just made it, it’s quite popular here in the city.”

The ecstatic look on your face, a wave of relief coarser through your body as you held a few of the branches of the beautiful white flower up. Examining it carefully, as though it was a dragon egg.

You’d paid the heavy price and returned back to the castle, the sun had just disappeared off in the horizon. It felt like a spring in each step, the exhaustion you’d felt only moments ago vanished, as you both made your way back up gleefully.

You thanked the young maester for his tremendous help, and would reward him with a high recommendation to his seniors. You’d spared only a few more minutes as he prepared a vial of the ointment for you, before you both departed your own ways.

As you made your way back into your chamber, Aemond sprung himself up, storming towards you.

“Where in the Seven Hells have you been, Y/N?! I sent Criston and his men to look for you across the castle and you were no where!”

“I-”

“You had me worrying sick, you understand-”

He snapped, cutting you off before you could explain yourself.

“Why would you leave without consoling me, and where did you go only to return so late in the hour. Are you okay, you feel cold, come closer to the fire.”

You could feel the tension in his grip, even though some relief came as he watched your face appear at the doorway, he was pacing himself, as he led you to where he sat before.

“Aemond, my dear, it’s alright. I went out to look for something with one of the maesters, I needed his guidance.”

“May the Gods be good, what took up your day so late into the night. Nothing happened, are you okay? You could’ve just sent him off yourself, or why didn’t you tell me so that I could have accompanied you! Seven Hells, Y/N don’t you ever disappear like that without a trace… I-I thought you left me.”

He knelt beside you, as you pulled his hand down to come face to face. One hand cupping his cheek, as your thumb gentry caressed his tender skin, whilst the other hand remained clinging to his.

“Aemond, don’t you ever think that. I would never do that to you, you know this… I just had to retrieve this for you. It’s for the pain, my dear. I know the eye troubles you, there’s no need to deny it.”

You’d let go of his face as your hand reached out to reveal a small glass vial with the ointment the young maester had created.

“What-” He softly uttered.

“Just apply a small, pea size amount around your eye my dear, just like so-“

You gently applied the ointment around his temple, and around the eye socket of his sapphire eye. He slightly winced as you first touched it, although began to settle. You glimpsed a faint look of surprise on his face, as you presumed the pain had finally gone.

“And it should ease the pain. Aemond, I hate seeing it trouble you, and I know how you dislike milk of the poppy so please-”

You slowly place the vial in his palm, as you close his fist up.

“Just use this for now.”

He remained silent for a short while, as he stood up again, walking towards the small mirror by the wardrobe. He observed the ointment had been perfectly rubbed in, and as he touched the area, he felt nothing, no more ache, no more of the dull, irritating pain that nagged at him.

He turned back towards you, you reaching him halfway as you closed in on each other.

“You are an angel if the Gods thought of me blessed enough to have you.”

His hands cupped your face, as one began to stream through your hair gently. You smiled up at Aemond softly, as your lips gently hovered over his.

“But don’t you ever run off like that again, without me knowing, unless you want the whole Kingsguard to seize the city until we find you.”

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #Aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #prince aemond #aemond the kinslayer

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traegorn · 2 months

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Why do you think so many people in your notes are so ignorant of how American government works?

I graduated just in time to escape No Child Left Behind. Has basic social studies really gotten that bad over the last couple of decades?

To be fair I was going to say that if your school is that bad there's the internet, but then I remembered that the internet sucks now and it's full of mis and dis information.

How do we get people to learn about how the government actually works, and especially how do we get it past their conviction that they already know how it works?

It's just it's amazing how many people think the president is already the dictator that Trump wants the position to be.

So I honestly think a lot of people either just never paid attention in school or they were never taught it in the first place. Like if they didn't grow up politically active, it's easy for the world to make a lot of this stuff opaque.

I was on my first picket line at six years old, so I kinda take stuff for granted sometimes I guess. My parents have always been politically engaged and brought it home with them.

My sister, my brother, and I all got degrees in Political Science. Both my siblings got law degrees, and my sister works for the FAA and my brother works for AFSCME.

I, uh, got a boring corporate cubicle job, ran an anime con for two decades, and wrote a bunch of dumb comics and books.

Anyways.

What's really happened is that there is a lot of propaganda out there trying to disenfranchise the left. And folks fall for it -- if you don't know that the federal executive branch can't override state law, it's easy to blame the guy that you're told is "in charge." It's the same way right wing talking points blame Biden for high gas prices when they go up around the globe.

If you want to know why I keep responding to folks, it's that I'm hoping that I'm talking to real people and that I can let them know what they've been mislead about. Maybe some are psyops or propaganda accounts -- but I'm betting they aren't. I'm betting they're angry people who need someone to lash out at.

And it's simple to blame one guy, especially when the press ignores most of the good things he's done due to the very successful right wing propaganda machine.

I hope I can just let people in on how the world isn't that simple, and that we have to care more about helping as many folks as we can over hurting the people we're mad at.

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thetriumphantpanda · 1 year

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retrograde, we'd shake the frame of your car

Oh look, it's a new instalment of our favourite neighbourhood DILF. Thank you so much for your continued support of this silly little series of mine. Please continue to reblog, comment and like if you're enjoying this!

Pairing | dbf!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Summary | Joel drives you out of the way of prying eyes for a 'date'

Word Count | 3.4k

Warnings | As usual, just dbf!Joel in general, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, fingering (f), unprotected PiV sex (Don't do this) and talk of contraceptives.

Part 1 | Part 2

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The late afternoon sun is beating through the kitchen windows as you rinse the plates in the sink before stacking them in the dishwasher. You smile to yourself as you place them exactly where Joel had told you during your party, before your mind wanders to more unsavoury thoughts of him.

Your parents are sat in front of the television as you wrap up clearing up for dinner, making sure the leftovers are packaged in the fridge. You’re about to grab a cold beer for your dad to enjoy whilst he watches his shows when your phone vibrates in your pocket.

Joel.

Fancy going for a drive?

Sounds ominous. This hasn’t been your plot all along has it? Sweeten me up so you can take me down a back road and murder me?

Joel.

Damn. You caught me. Guess I’ll just have to take you down a back road and fuck you instead.

Give me twenty and pick me up at the end of the road.

You pull out the beer for your dad but leave the bottle you were going to take for yourself, walking it through to the living room. You hand it to him but don’t sit down like usual.

“I’m gonna go for a drive,” You announce, “Been cooped up here all day, just want to get out for a bit.”

Your mom looks up for her gossip magazine and raises an eyebrow, “You be careful now,” She warns, “And be back by eleven, okay?”

“I’m twenty-five mom, do I still need a curfew?”

“Whilst you’re living under our roof without paying rent, yes you do.”

You sigh but relent. You must admit she is right. You hadn’t wanted to stay longer in New York once you’d graduated, thinking the job market in Austin would be less competitive, but it was still a slog trying to find a job that paid well enough that after your student loan payments were gone, you still had money to enjoy life.

You grab your keys and head out of the door, driving your car a few streets over to make it look like you did indeed go for a drive on your own, parking it up in the parking lot of the church. You say a quick prayer of forgiveness to the Lord for leaving your car in his driveway so you could go and live in sin for a few hours, before you’re jogging the few streets back over to wait on the corner of the street for Joel.

Within minutes he’s pulling up, rolling his window down with a wicked smile on his face, “How much for a few hours, sugar?” He finishes with a wink.

“I’m outta your price range, Miller.” You shoot as you round the front of his truck and slip into the passenger seat.

“Huh, weird,” He comments as he pulls away from the curb and starts driving, “Last time I checked you were free for me.”

“Well then, aren’t you lucky?”

“Very.” He says with a smile, as he free hand snakes to rest on the skin of your thigh, squeezing gently as he continues to drive to God knows where.

You smile when you realise he’s pulling the truck into the reserve a little ways out of the suburbs. You’d been here before, sometimes on your own when you needed to clear your head, Sarah had asked to go hiking one weekend when Joel and Tommy were both working, and you think you briefly remember a high school boyfriend bringing you here so he could kiss you.

The spot that he pulls into is secluded. There are trees that shade the small area that he parks in but there’s still a nice view of the lake through the windscreen of the car. The sun is starting to set, creating a mix of orange and red hues in the sky and it’s quite a romantic spot, you think to yourself.

“You knew exactly where to come,” You muse as you undo your seatbelt, “You bring all your girls out here, Joel?”

You turn to look at him and he has a smirk splayed across his lips, “You want the truth?”

“Always.”

He chuckles, “I used to bring Sarah’s mom here, when things were still good,” He points to a tree in front of you, “I actually think Sarah was conceived against that tree over there,” You gasp in shock at his admission, swatting at his bicep which has him laughing, “You asked for the truth!” He accuses.

“So, you bought me here to reminisce?” You ask, “Gonna fuck me against the tree to relive your youth?”

“You want me to fuck you against the tree?”

You shake your head, “Not really, don’t think my hips and my back are up to the job.”

“Don’t be so silly,” He chuckles, “You’re the young and agile one out of the two of us,” He’s finally undoing his own seatbelt, “But that’s good because I definitely don’t have the stamina to hold you up and fuck you like you deserve.”

You look out to the lake, you can see the slight breeze is lapping the water to the shore and it’s so hot that you think dipping your toes into the water might offer some relief, “Wanna dip your toes, Miller?” You ask, nodding your head to the water.

You don’t give him much time to respond, opening your door and stepping down from the truck as you break out into a jog down to the water’s edge. You can hear him open his door and the crunch of the gravel under his shoes as he moves to join you. By the time he catches up to you, you’ve already shed your sandals and you’re into the water up to your mid-calf. It’s not as relieving as you thought – the sun has been beating down on the water all day, so it’s like a lukewarm bath.

Joel is kicking off his boots and tucking his socks into the top of them. You watch intently as he rolls the bottoms of his jeans up past his ankles before he’s wading into meet you. You can sense he doesn’t want to get his jeans wet, so he’s not moving any further once his ankles are covered in the water, so you wade into the shore a little, scratching the itch of desire to be closer to him.

When you’re within reach, he’s taking hold of your wrist, turning your gently before his other arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling your back flush to his chest. You lean your head against his shoulder as you listen to the sounds of the breeze rustling the trees, the water lapping at the shore and the odd whistle of birdsong.

“This is nice.” You mumble, turning your head to look up at him.

“Yeah,” Joel sighs, bending down just enough to kiss you chastely on the lips, “Wish I could take you out properly, darlin’.”

You spin in his arms so you’re facing him now, a teasing grin spread out on your mouth, “Has Joel Miller brought me here on a date?” You tease.

“Maybe I did,” He smiles at you, “There’s even a cooler with beer in the truck.”

He leads you from the water, stopping to let you put your shoes back on, so you don’t hurt your feet on the gravel. He motions for you to sit in the bed of his truck once he’s laid down a blanket for you. He pops the cap off two bottles of beer, making sure he insists he’s only having one so he’s safe to drive you back later.

He settles into one of the corners, letting you sit between his thighs, leant back on his chest. It’s weird, sitting here like this, not worrying about the fact someone might see you, or hear you, but you can’t say that you hate it. After a week and a half of stolen moments and sneaky fucking, you wonder what it is the both of you are doing together, but you don’t bring it up. You want to enjoy this before launching into the inevitable question of ‘what are we?’

You finish your beer quickly, Joel opting to savour the singular drink he’s allowing himself, but he tells you to help yourself to another from the cooler, which you do, “This all seems very wholesome Miller.” You comment.

You feel him shrug behind you, “Just wanted ya to know I’m not just here to get my dick wet,” You hear him take a sip, “I mean, I am because it’s fantastic, but I don’t wantcha feeling like I’m usin’ ya.”

You want to add something meaningful to the conversation but you’re treading on dangerous ground. In all your fantasies about this situation it was never meant to be something serious. He was going to fuck you once, tell you it was a mistake and that would have been it. Nowhere had you imagined being led against him in the back of his truck like this.

The sun is setting fast now, and you can sense that the darkness won’t be far behind, then you’ll need to go home. You put your half-finished beer back in the cooler, moving around so you’re still between Joel’s thighs, but just kneeling to face him now, “Kinda want you to get your dick wet now though.”

“That so?” He raises an eyebrow and finishes the rest of his beer in a big mouthful, “You’ll need to come here then, won’t you?”

His hands are dragging down your sides to reach your hips before he’s shifting his legs, so they’re not as spread, settling you onto his lap in a similar way to how you’d been the first time you’d done this. You settle yourself down on his lap and let your lips crash to his.

He’s squeezing his hands on your hips, gently moving you in his lap so you’re grinding against him, just enough that there’s friction for both of you, whilst he opens his mouth when you rub your tongue along his plush bottom lip. You let your tongue mix languidly with his own as you continue to grind your hips into his, there’s no need to rush, not when you don’t have to worry about your parents walking in on anything, so you’re going to savour every second of this.

“Look so good on my lap, pretty girl,” He praises when you pull away, just a touch, from his lips to get some air, “Feel what you do t’me?” He’s bucking his hips up into yours where you can feel his growing erection in his jeans.

You move forward to kiss him again. This time it’s more desperate, a clash of teeth and tongue. You take his bottom lip between your teeth at one point and nibble, which causes a hiss from his lips of mixed pleasure and pain. His hands have dropped from your hips and their now rooted under your skirt, gripping fingers into the meat of your ass so hard that you think you might bruise there tomorrow.

You let a moan fall from your lips when he bucks his hips into you again, feeling the bulge in the front of his jeans rub at the front of your underwear, but it’s not enough anymore.

“Joel-” You gasp, “Need- more.”

“What do you need?” He whispers, “Tell me, pretty girl, and I’ll give it to you.”

“Want you to make me come.”

He doesn’t say anything in reply, just moves his hands to hook into the waistband of your underwear. You lift your hips enough so he can pull them down, but he doesn’t seem concerned about taking them all the way off just yet.

“I’ve got a feeling of déjà vu.” You breath out, referencing the fact that you’re in exactly the same position as you were that first time, even down to the way his thumb is teasing along the seam of your pussy right now.

“At least this time there’s no risk of your dad waking up and shooting me.”

“I kinda- ohhhhh,” You trail off as his thumb dips between your folds to gather your slick before achingly bringing his finger up to touch your clit, “I kinda like the risk.”

“Naughty girl,” He’s muttering, but he doesn’t seem to care all that much because he’s thumbing tight circles on your clit that have your hands gripping at his shoulders and your head thrown back in pleasure, “Might not be your daddy that catches us tonight, but still, plenty of opportunity for someone else to walk by and see me with my fingers in your pussy.”

He's keeping his thumb on your clit, but you feel one of his thick fingers slip inside of you and curl in the way he’s learned makes you come undone with minimal work. You listen as he chuckles when you start grinding your hips down into his hand, fucking yourself on his fingers, “Always so tight for me sweetheart.” He praises.

You’re letting out little gasps and moans as he works another finger inside of you, thumb never leaving your clit where it is rubbing tight and purposeful circles. You’re sure if anyone were to stumble upon you it would be hell of a sight. You with your head thrown back, grinding down onto Joel’s hand to meet the upward thrusts of his fingers, his name falling from your lips a mile and minute and Joel with his head buried in the crook of your neck, licking hot stripes with his tongue along your skin.

“Don’t stop,” You gasp out, “God I’m so fucking close Joel, don’t you dare stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it darlin’.” He mumbles against your hot skin.

Within seconds you’re clenching around his fingers and crying out into the canopy of the trees as he pushed you over the edge into oblivion. When you hear the shout of his name echo around you, you bite down on your bottom lip to stop any other sounds alerting someone to your presence as he works you through the aftershocks.

He’s pulling his fingers from you, looking straight into your eyes when he brings the fingers that were inside you to your lips, “Go on, baby, clean yourself off my fingers.”

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out. He presses the two fingers onto the flat of your tongue and you’re sucking them into your mouth, rubbing your tongue over them to clean your slick off him. It’s depraved but the look in his eyes makes it worth it, he’s hungry for you, looks like he’s about to devour you in a second.

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, replacing them with his own tongue. You can hear him groan when he tastes you on your own mouth, “Fuck, you taste so sweet, pretty girl.”

You don’t have the brain power to respond – instead, your hands grip his belt and start to undo it, pulling it through the beltloops. Then, he’s the one undoing the button on his jeans, tapping your hip for you to sit up so he can shuck them far enough down his thighs, along with his underwear, so that his cock is finally free.

Your pussy clenches around nothing as you feast your eyes upon it. Sure, you’d felt it inside of you not two days ago, you knew he was big, but seeing it in front of you was another story. What you wouldn’t give to wrap your lips around it right now. You would, but you were desperate for him to fill you.

You reach a hand out as you’re settling yourself back on his hips again, guiding his cock to rest at your tight heat, “Go on sweetheart,” He encourages, a hand coming to cup your cheek, “Sit yourself down on my cock for me.”

You do exactly as you’re told. Joel slides into your slick pussy easily, despite the stretch, and its mere seconds before you still yourself for a moment when he’s buried inside you to the hilt. You can hear his quickened breathing below you – it’s good to know he feels the same as you do when he’s enveloped in your warmth like this. You start to move your hips, grinding into his own and the friction it creates is delicious. You can feel him nudging the sweet spot inside you as he moves.

You look down at him, his eyes glazed over and his head leaning against the truck. He pushes himself forward as his hands lift your shirt up and over your head. You make no complaints when his fingers pull the straps of your bra down your shoulders and he pulls the cups down, freeing your tits in front of his face.

“Knew you’d have such pretty tits, baby.” He’s mumbling before he takes a nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over the hardened bud whilst his other hand is working on your other.

Everything that he’s doing is spurring you on. You feel him bring his knees up to rest against the back of your thighs, which gives you more leverage to start bouncing on his cock in earnest. His mouth doesn’t leave your chest except to switch from one nipple to the other, rolling each between his teeth, using the flat of his tongue to soothe each when he’s done.

You’re half aware of the fact that your combined ministrations are causing the truck to shake beneath you – a squeak added to the sounds of you both gasping each other’s names, but if Joel doesn’t seem to care, then neither do you.

“Baby, I’m gonna come,” He’s breathing out as his mouth finally pulls from your chest, one of his arms is wrapping itself around your waist, pressing you into his chest, the other rests on the back of your head, bringing your face to his neck where you start peppering kisses as he takes control, “So fuckin’ tight, and those pretty sounds you make in my ear, I’m close.”

He’s fucking up into you now. You’re so wet you can hear him sliding in and out of your pussy, the feeling of his balls slapping against your skin with every upward thrust just another added stimulant in what proves to be an orgasm that catches you by surprise.

As you’re moaning Joel’s name into his neck and clenching around him, you’re vaguely aware that he’s moaning your own, pulling your body off his cock as he spurts thick ropes of cum across your inner thighs. You stay still, listening to the sounds of your combined heaving breaths before he’s whispering into your ear, “That was fuckin’ close baby, didn’t wanna pull out.”

You’re leaning back a little, pressing a kiss to his cheek, your sex-scrambled brain talks before you think, “Maybe I should go and get the pill?”

His hands are cupping your face now, searching your eyes for evidence that you’re telling him the truth with your words, “You want that?” He asks, “Want me to be able to fill your sweet little pussy full of my cum?”

You’re climbing off him now and shimmying down the truck bed, picking up the edge of the blanket to wipe yourself clean, “I’ve never let anyone do that before,” You admit with a shrug as he’s pulling his jeans back up around his waist, “I think I’d like it though.”

“Well, I ain’t gonna pressure you sweetheart,” He says, following your lead in getting down from the truck bed, setting the blanket and cooler back in the truck, “But if you don’t wanna do that, might be an idea for me to start wearin’ something whilst we fuck, I’m sure as hell not wantin’ another kid right now, and I’m sure you don’t either.”

You can’t deny that he’s right, you’ll have to think about it when you don’t have a million and one hormones running through your body telling you to scream that you just want him to bend you back over and fill you up regardless, “I’ll have a think.” You promise as he’s wrapping his arms around your waist to kiss you.

What was supposed to be a quick peck on the lips turns into five minutes of you pressed up against the truck door, making out like horny teenagers who don’t want to say goodbye to each other. You suppose that really is what you are, just horny adults instead.

“Come on,” He says, breathless, when he pulls from your kiss, “Let’s get you home, sweetheart.”

Joel Miller Taglist - @winwin70@jessie8605@trulybetty@amanitacowboy@morning-star-joy@tieronecrush@leeeesahhh@babeincolor@beee-haw@kirsteng42@mirandablue1@sixxslut@impala1967dwinchester@flash2412@gimmebackmysoul@kelp-dreaming@gracie7209@voteforpedro09@brittmb115@karokaroxx@amb11@heartfairy @grumpy-the-tired @Lillilotus @doctorstatic@morallyinept@southernbe@elissaa@pop-sugar102@u-luciferssatanicdaughter@alyhull@purplerain44@harryleatherfit@lovely-ateez@emilianamason @bootyliciousposts @lorilane33 @casa-boiardi

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 9 months

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''Fight and Die'' Slightly darkAemond x AFAB Reader

Aemond x fem oc/reader

Tags: Show setting, abusive brother (but its not aemond) mentioned of forced marriages and duels, mentions of parental loss.

🔷Summary: Your ancestors once betrayed the Targaryens and paid a high price. Now you are back at court with your brother, who hopes to sell you in exchange for his freedom.

🔷Author's note: It might still be a little darkish but not as dark as usual. I think this is the closest to show aemond I ever got. So he still is not a unicorn yall but he is at least imo he is decent and nice.

🔷Wordcount :3934

You never set foot in King’s Landing before.

Not before the exile of your family almost a century ago.

The Marthryralys were once the most trusted advisors of the Targaryens.

Until your ancestor, Daeyor Marthyralys sided with the false king, King Maegor. He had been burned after Maegor had died, and your family was banished out of King’s Landing, and the Seven Kingdoms.

For years you lived across the narrow sea, in a small village in Pentos together with your brother and the heir of your house, Prince Fryand Marthyralys. He has everything you can expect in a trueborn Valyrian prince. Silver hair, bright eyes in a shade almost close to violet and a temper befitting a god, not an exiled prince.

‘’Chin up, sister.’’ He tells you with a smirk as you pass by several nobles and guards, servants and maids alike who all stare at you with judgment. They likely heard stories about your family. Stories of their treason and kinslaying murder and pillaging. ‘’Remember what I told you earlier this morning. Today is the day our family’s legacy will be reborn.’’ That is what he hopes. You hope your brother achieves this alliance. For as long as you can recall he wanted this.

Fyrand sighs before perfecting your hair, putting a loose lock behind your ears. “You be quiet unless I allow it. If you ruin this for me, the consequences could be dire. For both of us, but especially for you.” The glare he gives you says enough. You give an absent nod, staring at your own bitten down fingernails. Fyrand follows your gaze, scoffing with a deep sigh. ‘’And quit that. I didn’t keep you alive all these years so you can fuck this up.’’

The grant doors to the throne room are opened by guards and someone announces to you both as you hesitantly follow your brother. ‘’Lord Fyrand of House Marthyralys, and his sister, Lady Revaera of House Marthyralys.’’ It is one of the few times you hear yourself being called a lady, or even your first name. Fyrand does not bother with kindness and ceremony. He calls you whatever he likes, especially when he is drunk and in a bad mood.

By the throne, several people with silver hair wait. Yet you can easily divide them into two groups. One group wears subtle or not so subtle green accessories. And the other group wears about any other color but green. The Princess's party and the Queen's party. You know this from what Fyrand briefly told you about the Targaryens. The two parties do not like each other very much. Details are vague to you, as Fyrand didn’t want ‘’to corrupt your moral compass with nonsense that is none of your business anyway’’.

You know they are the royal family of Westeros. The Targaryens. Once close friends of your family, now look at you both. You do not know these people and they do not know you. They stare at you with the same confusion and questions you have deep down. You see it mirrored in their eyes and their hearts they carry on their sleeves. You keep your eyes on your soft slippers and faithfully remain close to your brother, afraid of these strange people. They killed your parents. They killed your ancestors. They killed your dragons. ‘’Your grace.’’ Fyrand speaks, full of servitude as he bows down for the silver haired corpse like man that sits the throne.

Or rather the throne sits him. The throne is a monstrosity in the worst way of the word. It does not look like a comfortable chair to you. Perhaps that is what it symbolizes. That ruling is no comfortable chair. It is not easy. It requires sacrifice, usually the worst kind. The kind where lives are lost and doomed.

The smell of poppy is heavy near the king and you assume he uses it regularly to dull his pain. He hangs half defeated, half consumed by the Stranger on his throne, his glare growing every minute that passes when you both are here. You continue ripping your nails subtly.

‘’We let traitors in now?’’ A man comments, near who you assume can only be the Princess Rhaenyra. She is described as the most fashionable woman in Westeros, with silver, pale locks she often carries in Targaryen fashion. Her gown symbolizes a dragon, with her house colors, red and black. It has nice details and you take them all in. The man itself has shorter hair than his wife, although Fyrand would say it would still be too long for a male. He carries a sword around his hips, and wears a black armor as well. You guess by his age that this can only be Prince Daemon Targaryen, the King’s brother, the Princess’s her uncle as well as her husband. ‘’These two should be hanged outside and for the birds to peck out their eyes.’’

While you feel fear rise Fyrand laughs it off, as a joke. The king is not so quick to judge you as his brother. He even smiles at you. ‘’You are the spitting image of your ancestor, Grysalda the Bold.’’ Out of both of you, he chose you to compliment.

Your brother boils in his skin next to you, yet fakes a smile and peacefulness. ‘’Both fierce and stunning.’’ The King finishes. Grysalda was indeed both fierce and bold. She had a total of five husbands and flew the dragon Gravemaker. There was nothing she couldn't do if she didn't set her mind to it. She was said to be a great beauty. Men fought wars to lay eyes on her, Men conquered towns in her name and men would murder everyone that dared to oppose her. She was an interesting woman, although it is disputed whether or not she was a good one.

You make a small curtsy, swayed by the words yet wary of their meaning. Grysalda was a threat to the Targaryens. Is this a compliment or a very twisted warning? But to not acknowledge such a compliment would be rude. ‘’Thank you, your grace-’’

‘’Be quiet, sister.’’ Fyrand interrupts almost mumbling so the others won't hear. You close your mouth right away and let him speak instead. ‘’I have come with an offer for House Targaryen and House Velyaron.” He folds his hands on his back. You wonder if his offer is good enough for an alliance. You know what he will offer. You. He will offer you to one of the Princes of either party and he hopes that in return they will allow him to stay in Westeros.

Prior to this offer, no interest was shown by both parties. This changes instantly. Princess Rhaenyra turns into a woman dressed in Velyaron colors. Princess Rhaenys, you assume. Her granddaughters look on as well and even the Greens on the Queens side are surprised.

King Viserys sits up as straight as his sickness allows him. “You are bold.” You hear your brother laugh. You do not join him, your eyes constantly wandering to the interesting people around you. The princes and the princesses, the Queen and the King and their children.

‘’It is in our blood, I’ve been told by my lovely servants.’’ You think back of all the servants that nurtured you and Fryand when you were safely in Pentos and beyond. You are thankful for them, but there was only so much they could do to protect you from Fyrand. ‘’Since you ordered the death of my parents all those years ago.” Fryand smirks hiding the pain very well. The light in his eyes has died a long time ago. Nothing can bring it back.

The only sound that can be heard is Otto Hightower clearing his throat. “Are you here to dig up the past? I seem to recall your parents were planning my death.’’ The king is right. They were. You were almost a baby when the treason was committed but it was committed nonetheless. Your own mother died in childbirth and your father remarried quickly almost the day after.

You have known your brother for a long time. He is a dramatic man. He enjoys having power and enjoys playing with people. He will not tell them right away. He will toy with them first. ‘’I’m here for no such thing.’’

The Princess looks at you, as if you know more of this masterplan. You do, but you do not dare to speak again. ‘’I am here to ally my house with House Targaryen.’’ And with that, he hopes to restore your family’s legacy. All those years of planning in exile, all those years on the run all come down to this crucial moment. Was it enough? Or will you both hang before the sun sets?

‘’And why would we ally you?’’ The King asks, which is reasonable. They have dragons. You do not. They have a kingdom. You do not. You only have a freshly gathered army with questionable loyalties as they fight for gold and power.

Fyrand grins. ‘’It’s quite simple. I have built quite the legendary army, across the Narrow sea, in the Stepstones and far far beyond. Men are calling me Aegon reborn.’’ He grins at Prince Aegon, taunting him with this accomplishment. Aegon does not care, judging by his empty eyes and smile.

You glance at your brother, giving him a clear look that warns him of the path he is rolling down from. He should not forget you two are both hostages until you can prove you are worthy of this alliance. To make him sound like their beloved ancestor is a mistake, you just know so.

The king agrees with that as well, sitting up straighter and putting his crown back on his head when it slips. ‘’So you have come to threaten us?’’

You pull your nails faster, running out of your left hand. Fyrand chuckles but you can hear he has become nervous too. ‘’Your grace, no! Most certainly not. I came to a conclusion. I could destroy you all, but the chance you all yet survive because of your dragons is …too big for my liking. Why not forget about the past, why not let bygones be bygones. We should ally.’’ He says.

‘’Bygones be bygones.’’ Viserys repeats after your brother. ‘’And how will I know I can trust your word, if you already have began expanding your army?’’ Even more wary grows and dread fills your stomach. You can already see yourself hanging.

Fyrand gives you a small nod and you step forward, your hands neatly folded on one another as you look around the court for any kind face. But everyone looks at you like you are a traitor. It doesn't matter to anyone that you were a baby when the assassination attempts happened. They think you are just as guilty. ‘’I have brought my sister with me. My pure blooded Valyrian sister. She can stay here as a hostage, perhaps even marry one of your sons or grandsons. There is no need to have her wither away.’’

The king rubs at his forehead as if a great pain plagues him. ‘’I do not have time for this.’’ He speaks. You and Fyrand both freeze. He is not even considering your offer. ‘’Escort them to the dungeons.’’ He adds. Fyrand is surrounded within mere moments.

At first he couldn't believe it. ‘’What?’’ He can’t believe his plan didn’t work. And then the rage you know so well returns. He glares at you as if this is somehow your fault.

You understand you must act fast. So you do. ‘’Y-Your grace! Wait. One moment…’’ You search in the basket one of your servants brought with you. Fyrand glares, at first annoyed that you search your sewing basket. A few men chuckle as well.

‘’Is she going to knit her way out of this?’’

You put the wool and spools on the ground, searching deeper in the basket until you feel something cold, something hard and something ancient. You lift it from the basket, presenting it to all witnesses in court. In your hands is a familiar dragon egg. The king blinks with his eyes.

‘’Please, do not harm him. He has all I have left.’’ You add with a soft whisper.

‘’We found a chest full of dragon eggs in Pentos.’’ You hope you do not regret this. Fyrand makes a strangled little sound, briefly causing most heads to snap to him, back to the egg in your hands.

Prince Daemon draws his sword. ‘’Likely dead.’’ They might be. Most might be. Some eggs are centuries old, stolen during the time of Maelor.

You are facing certain death and so is your brother. You do not need this now. ‘’We did not have the resources to try to hatch them. We are no Targaryens.’’ You snap at him. ‘’We were lucky if we could find shelter for the night.’’

‘’How many eggs do you speak of?’’ The king asks. You did hope he would be interested. He is interested in dragon eggs. What fool wouldn’t be? You glance at your brother. He shakes his head rapidly.

Yet you go through with your plan. You must.

‘’At least seven and twenty.’’

Several gasps can be heard in the room.

Queen Alicent looks at the egg. ‘’’How did they even got there?’’ She wonders out loud.

A shout sends shivers down your spine. It belongs to your brother.

‘’I warn you, Revaera!’’ He thinks he is the only one who can make sacrifices. You will show him.

You can either lie and be executed or tell the truth and meet your gods with a true soul.

‘’They were stolen from the cradles of Targaryen babies.’’ You reveal, your head hung in shame with the crimes of your ancestors. Queen Alicent instantly turns her head to a young man on her side, wearing an eyepatch. Even from where you stand you can make out the scars that he likely tries to hide. Princess Rhaenyra, although she may hide it, also glances at the young man, her face full of regret and what could have been.

It is true. For centuries your family stole eggs from the Targaryens, replacing well working eggs with eggs that aren’t working eggs at all. Just stone and clay. You walk to the iron throne, presenting the egg to the king. ‘’This egg, I brought for you, my King. It was stolen a few years ago. It was said to belong to Prince Baelon.’’ You know he died shortly after birth but it is clear that the king has never forgotten his first born son.

His eyes light up in ways you never saw before, as you hand the egg over.

‘’This is impossible. The egg is still here. It is in my room.’’ The Queen lets out a soft but painful sigh as if she tried for years to close a door that is now pushed open wildly. You speak. ‘’No, your grace. They were switched. You have likely fake ones.’’

‘’After everything I did for you! You dare betray our family?!’’ Fyrand shouts and this time they need to restrain him from attacking you. You back away, terrified of your brother.

‘’They deserve to know! We were robbing babies.’’ You feel like you are betraying your family. But this might be your only chance at survival. You feel tired, alone, terrified and like this can all end in a moment. You have nothing left to do but break into tears.

‘’They are the reason we grew up without parents, without titles, without dragons!’’

You know he is right. And you wish you could do both but you clearly can not.

From the crowds, a brown haired young man steps forward, carrying the Velyaron colors. The colors of the sea. ‘’Grandsire, may I speak?’’ That must be Jacaerys Velyaron, the Princess’s ‘trueborn’ son with her lover, Harwin Strong.

The king smiles kindly at his grandson, proud that Jacaerys makes the effort.

‘’You already do so, Jacaerys.’’ He subtly looks at his other two sons, who stand by with rage written in their eyes, both green of envy and red of hatred.

Prince Jacaerys looks at your basket, your gown and the silver diadem in your hairs.

‘’We should ally with them.’’ He says. Hope fills your chest as you carefully start to smile.

Although the King loves his grandchildren very much, he will not let them affect his rule.

‘’Interesting. Explain.’’ He says instead, using this as a lesson. Again you notice his other two sons hide their displeasedness but it's so obvious to you.

The heir of the throne continues.

‘’House Targaryen needs more dragons. We can’t risk it that House Marthryralys will search for other allies. Dragons made us kings. Dragons made us strong. We cannot risk for the dragons falling into other hands.’’ You highly doubt that anyone aside a Targaryen could fly with dragons but with the blood thinning over several bloodlines it has become a risk to them.

‘’That is true.’’ The king admits despite the fact that he does not like you or your brother. He can see reason. That is rare for a king. Especially for a Targaryen king if what you heard from your brother is correct.

Prince Jacaerys becomes bashful, blushing a bit when trying to avoid staring too long at you. ‘’And, I think Lady Revaera has proven herself more than loyal to us, providing this information and the dragon egg. In fact, I was hoping you’d let us marry.’’ Marry? You feel new dread fill your chest as the King considers this offer. Even Fyrand has become awfully quiet. You need to turn your head to see if they didn’t knock him out. But no. He is still awake and awfully quiet.

‘’Not so fast.’’ A voice booms, as a shadow brushes past you, making his way to the Iron throne. The one eyed man stands in front of you. You feel threatened right away and gulp. The way he is dressed in all black is intimidating to you. ‘’I have done my fair bit of research into your family, my Lady.’’ You hear your heart beat only louder.

‘’You have?’’ You manage to ask, forcing your hands to stop trembling.

There is a silence in the throne room as everyone listens to what he has to say.

‘’Quite. You have an interesting story. I like interesting stories.’’ What is so interesting, you wouldn’t know. Your story is a tragedy. Perhaps he likes that. Perhaps his own story is a tragedy as well.

He turns to his father, and you briefly admire his long luscious looking silver pure locks that Jace clearly lacks. ‘’There is an old tradition, Grandsire. If an outsider wants to wed a member of the Marthryralys, he must duel a family member of the Lady to prove his worth.’’ That is true, in theory. But Your only family member is Fyrand. They won’t let their heir fight Fyrand.

And so, the king also speaks.

‘’I will not have Jacaerys fight that deranged man.’’

Aemond folds his hands on his back, his grin growing ever bigger. ‘’There is also another rule. If the Lady has multiple suitors, her suitors shall also fight for her and prove their worth. The victor shall become her Lord Husband.’’ You become uncomfortable, as you find it a bit of a silly rule, as well as concerning that he knows a awful lot about your family.

‘’Why is that needed? I want to marry her.’’ Jace bluntly says, laughing a bit to prove how silly he finds these traditions that your house honored for centuries.

Aemond looks at Jacaerys so he can see his face before he reveals what he was planning all along. ‘’Because I am also quite interested in her, Prince Jacaerys.’’ That sends shivers down your spine.

The King is confused. As are you.

‘’You are?’’

Instead of addressing his father and his king, he turns to you to give you a kind, almost the ghost of a smile as if he can hear you think and read your confusion that is written across your face. ‘’Hm. A lady as beautiful as you, I’d fight or die for you anyday.’’ Despite these words he almost seems confident he will win this match.

–

You visit Fyrand later in the dungeons.

‘’So.’’ He speaks as you have removed your hood. ‘’The Princes both seemed quite taken with you. Job well done.’’ He says, sitting up straighter, talking to you in high Valyrian so the guards won’t hear.

‘’They are eager for wives. It’s their age, I think.’’ Boys and men of that age become that way.

Fyrand chuckles as if you said something funny. He knows more about this than you ever will. ‘’Their age has nothing to do with it. They saw the way you played that fossil with that silly little egg of yours. They know their house is a dying one. The dragons become smaller and smaller still.’’ You heard the same, from your spies.

‘’You were clever, to think of it. To tell them the truth about the eggs.’’ You praise your brother, although you were scared in the moments where you acted out his plan. You had to turn off your emotions and believe that Fyrand would face certain death.

He bows his head in fake humbleness that does not become him in the slightest.

‘’Certainly. I have my moments. I nearly saw Prince Aemond drool when you presented that egg to that corpse.’’ You bet he did.

You become uneasy as you think of the one-eyed prince.

‘’He scares me.’’ You hope it is enough to call off the wedding part of the alliance.

But instead of that your brother’s smile only grows.

‘’Hm. He should. He is much to be scared of, little sister.’’

He leans in closer, his face close to the bars. ‘’There are rumors he tried to kill his own nephew. He is quick to anger, slow to forgive and has the biggest deadliest dragon in the entire world.’’ You hope he is lying. He has to be. He is describing a true monster.

‘’Aemond will win this duel.’’ He adds, as if it's clear.

‘’How are you certain?’’ Perhaps because Aemond is taller or older or something else you do not see?

He laughs as if you again ask a silly question.

‘’Because I saw both him and Jace fight. It won’t be to death, but just so you know: You will become Aemond’s bride.’’

A terrifying prospect. You did not agree to that.

‘’I thought we would pull the plan before that would happen?’’ You ask, your voice scared.

‘’No, little sister no. This is a long time plan. You just focus on keeping and making Aemond a very happy husband, yes?’’ You feel your air cut off at his horrible description. You see Aemond’s hands on your body and his lips near your neck, slightly brushing it when whispering dirty things in your ear.

Despite that, your body betrays you lie. ‘’Fyr, I’m scared. I do not wish to-’’ You wet your lips, speechless.

Your brother dryly gestures with the stomp that once had a hand attached to it.

‘’We all must make our sacrifices.’’ He says. You feel guilty. He lost his hand trying to get you to safety. He lost it defending the eggs. He smiles as you silently cry, accepting your fate. ‘’Now go. I bet they are itching to spill each other’s blood.’’

As always with a new story let me know what you thought of it. Comments reblogs likes are welcome but not required. But they do make me smile:)

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alcrox · 3 days

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Did Yu Ziyuan intend to cut off Wei Wuxian's arm?

I have seen this brought up a few times.

There are generally two arguments: yes, she totally intended to do that and only changed her mind when she was told that Lotus Pier would be converted into a "Wen Supervisory Office" AND no, she was just buying time by beating up Wei Wuxian and appeasing Wang Lingjiao.

I think it's a bit of both?

She didn't (and wouldn't) hesitate to beat up Wei Wuxian. This is the first scene we see her physically abuse Wei Wuxian (before this we only hear her verbally abuse... well, everyone) but it is made very clear that Wei Wuxian is quite used to this sort of treatment. Cutting off an arm, however, is very different. It would maim WWX for life. It isn't something that, even WWX with his strong golden core, would be able to just heal from easily. He would have to find a whole new way to get around his disability.

It's not as if YZY would hesitate to cut off WWX's arm from a place of concern or affection. Hell no. She is extremely sharp and intelligent, though. She has seen WWX grow up, she has seen his talents first-hand. She knows just how much of an asset WWX is to the Yunmeng Jiang. And she knew that this day was coming. The day when the Qishan Wen came to her doorstep and tried to take over Lotus Pier. She might blame WWX for it (because she too, like Wen Chao, just needs an excuse to blame WWX, though hers comes from a place of being blinded by hatred rather than planning a seize) but she is well aware that one way or another, this was happening. That much was clear in episode 11 when she is spitting mad that Jiang Cheng has to go to the Wen Indoctrination Camp. She knows what the Wens are doing and she is not surprised when the final showdown finally happens.

So, it's a bit of both. She was buying time, but she was also, maybe, hoping that punishing WWX in front of WLJ would be enough. When WLJ mentions cutting off WWX'S right arm, however, she visibly hesitates. (Or rather, considers.) She knows what cutting off WWX's arm means; it means to rid her Clan of a powerful asset. WWX may still be able to fight with his left arm (as he has clearly made up his mind to do so) but right after his arm is cut off, he would be of no use in a fight. And YZY already knows from that point onwards, there are only two options. One, she and JC and WWX and the Jiang army fight off the Wens and risk losing their lives, including the heir Jiang Cheng. Two, the option which she ends up choosing, she fights to death, defending her home from the Wens while JC escapes with WWX. In both options, WWX's survival and skills are crucial. She knows JC's best chance of making it through all of this is keeping WWX alive and indebted. She cannot cut off his arm yet. Not when WWX, in her eyes, hasn't paid off his debt yet. Not when she knows, despite her hatred, that WWX can be counted on for his courage and loyalty and incredible skills to keep JC safe.

She orders the doors to be shut, which is absolutely meant to be interpreted as acquiescence to cut off WWX's arm. She is clever. She buys them as much time as possible, possibly also gives WWX a while to recover from being whipped so brutally by Zidian. And it also serves the purpose of keeping the Wens inside so that they can't go and alert Wen Chao and bring an even bigger army back to Lotus Pier. She knows shit's about to hit the fan so she doesn't reveal what she plans to do until the last possible moment when does.

And then WLJ utters "Wen Supervisory Office" and YZY knows it's time. That the gig is up.

If the order was to whip WWX with Zidian for a while longer, YZY may have complied. She knows exactly how strong WWX is and how much he can withstand without, like, dying or something. But the price WLJ asked for was too high (and probably calculated on WLJ's part as well; she too must know what a skilled fighter WWX is and how to sever the Yunmeng Jiang from one of its most powerful weapons. She saw WWX in action, after all, in the Xuanwu cave). So YZY stopped complying and began strategizing. How to save her home. How to keep the Clan alive. How to preserve her assets.

She didn't keep WWX alive and safe (well, safe is questionable, she did beat the shit out of him) out of goodwill. She kept him alive and safe out of necessity.

Side note, this shot:

This shot helped reinforce my theory. YZY despises WWX, that much is not a secret. Everyone knows it. Everyone in this very scene knows it. Yet when the Wens, headed by WLJ, first arrive at Lotus Pier, this shot makes a pretty firm statement of they are united against a common enemy. YZY is many things, but she is not stupid. She knows what the real problem here is. And she is standing with her entire Jiang army, including WWX, against said problem.

I despise YZY as a mother but damn if she isn't an interesting character.

#cql #meta #headcanon #theory #wei wuxian #yu ziyuan #jiang cheng #wang lingjiao #the untamed #excuse the horrendous quality of that screenshot lmaoo

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