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zaldritzosrose · 4 months

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Can't Stay Away Part 2 (Feyd-Rautha x Princess!Reader)

Summary: Second daughter of the Emperor and you were well used to being ignored in favour of your sister. That was, until you met Feyd-Rautha, nephew to the Harkonnen Baron. A tourney of old, bringing back the traditions of champions and favours brought him to your side - but how close would he stay?

TW: Minors DNI, She/Her pronouns, afab reader, mild mentions of neglect towards reader (ignored in favour of Irulan), Feyd being a badass, face sitting, cunnilingus, fingering, lashings of sexual tension, reader enjoying a blood covered Feyd, Irulan being a little bit of a bitchy sister.

Part 1 Here

(Maybe a part 3, we'll see)

Words: 2689

The air was thicker than ever as Feyd finished preparing himself for the tournament. You had helped him repaint his torso before fitting the lightweight and black armour to his body. There had been something so intimate, ignoring your encounter earlier, in the whole situation.

Preparing your champion for battle. Watching as he selected his weapons and psyched himself up for the impending battles. He was fascinating to watch, you realised. And it only made you more excited for what was to come.

“My father has decided we are to publicly show our favour,” You mused, as Feyd hooked his blades into his belt.

You remembered the tradition of favours from the fairytales you had read as a child. A lady would give her champion something special, a sign of her support and luck. Back then, you had found the whole idea ridiculous. But now? The idea that you could publicly claim Feyd as yours, in some way, was enticing.

Soon, you left Feyd to finish his preparations, feeling his eyes on you as you walked back towards the guest chambers. It was only then that you noticed the black smudges of paint on your dress. Your feet moved faster, not wanting anyone to see you in such a state.

You arrived quickly, opening your wardrobe to find an appropriate dress to wear. Your typical choices were far more feminine in fabric than Irulan. Where she chose metallics, more structured pieces for public outings, you preferred softer looks. Flowing gowns that accentuated your figure. Pearls and silks in a myriad of light tones. Always with a hood or veil to match.

Several options were spread out on your bed when you heard a gentle knock on your door. With curiosity, and wrapping your robe tighter around your body, you opened it.

A Harkonnen servant stood waiting, the girl barely looking you in the eye as she handed you a note.

“It is from Feyd-Rautha, princess,” she said so softly you barely heard it, but you took the note and thanked her.

As she left, you pushed the door closed and quickly read.

My princess, not that I wish to command you, but I have one request. Please, for me, would you wear something white. Something to make you stand out on this dark planet. You look so very beautiful in white. Like a goddess sent to tempt me. That is my request. F.

You read the note twice more. He wanted you in white? There was something more to the request and you knew it. But you could not quite figure it out. You had a few options. White was a colour quite synonymous with you, pearls being your favourite jewel as a result.

You looked at the note again. ‘Stand out’ he had said. Asking you to make yourself known. It was something you were quite unfamiliar with, in truth. Having always lived in the shadow of Irulan, you were well versed in fading into the background.

But this was your chance.

You made your choice, picking a gown you had only worn once before. A more fitted design, strewn with layers of pearls that accentuated every dip and curve of your body. As was usual for you, and your sister, you chose an accessory to cover part of your face. But instead of a veil, you opted for a lower face cover, made of silver chains and jewels to match your dress. Feyd wanted you to stand out for him, and there was every chance of that in this.

Something about the choice made you feel powerful. Like you were finally taking a stand. Even if it was a small step.

Feyd stood stock still at the doors to the arena. The first round was being announced and he could hear the murmurings of other warriors in the surrounding chambers. Melee style fighting was first. Each champion would fight, to the death, until the fight was called to an end. The round that followed would consist of any of those champions that remained.

He twirled the blades between his palms, anticipation making his whole body feel like it was on fire. Combat was what he lived for, and these opponents would be a welcome challenge. What excited him more, was knowing you were watching.

Soon, his name was called, and he strode out to the chants of his name, raising his two blades in the air in response.

All eyes fell to you as you entered the room. Everyone from your sister and father to the Baron and his attendants stared. You knew why, and you could not stop the small smile the pulled at your lips.

You sat beside Irulan, who was quick to whisper in your ear.

“You picked Feyd-Rautha? Sister, he is a psychopath…” Irulan whispered harshly, low enough for only you to hear and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“Psychotic or not, he is an excellent fighter. Is that not the point of this, to choose the best?”

Irulan scoffed and you ignored her. Feyd had been nothing but kind to you since you had arrived. More than kind in fact. And you were buzzing with excitement at the idea of seeing him fight. There was a feeling, deep within you. Like you needed to be near him.

The announcer called Feyd’s name, and you nearly flew from your seat to lean over the balcony to watch his entrance.

Feyd strode around the arena with confidence. But his eyes searched only for you and soon he found you. The pearls on your dress shimmering under the black sun of Giedi Prime. You looked perfect. Just the push he needed to truly show off, your words from earlier ringing in his ears.

“Win for me, and you can have any part of me you wish.”

He no longer just wanted to win, he needed to. Purely for that promise. He knew he was capable, but he was more determined now than ever.

The announcer began to introduce the fight and Feyd waited for you to look at him. Neither of you hearing the announcer’s words as you looked at each other. But all eyes fell to Feyd when he dropped to a bow for you, making a show of offering himself and his blades to your name.

You leaned over the balcony wall, despite Irulan’s protests and made sure everyone and Feyd could see you. There was no hiding whose champion he was now.

The fight began with a loud bang of a drum, and you watched intently, eyes following Feyd’s every movement. It became clear quickly that there were few others in the arena that could match him for skill. His first two opponents were dispatched quickly, staining the ground below with streaks of blood.

And the rest of the fight continued much the same, Feyd cutting through enemy after enemy with what seemed like pure joy on his face. Blood staining his forearms and face and you found yourself enjoying the sight more than you expected.

You watched as most of the ladies, Irulan included, turned away from most of the gore and violence. You, however, watched every second. Something about it all fascinated you. Especially Feyd. The way he moved, like a predator stalking prey. Cutting down each one with precision and skill.

It was not long before the fight was time out. Leaving only five champions of ten remaining. Feyd included, of course. He wiped his blades on the fabric of his trousers as he was ushered back to the holding room.

You sat back in your chair, letting out a breath you had not realised you were holding.

“Do you really not find this exciting?” you asked, turning to Irulan and the other ladies.

“Watching men fight for our favour and affection?”

Every single one of them looked at you like you were insane. How could you possibly enjoy something like this? It was not that you enjoyed the death per se, but the skill and precision of it all. Watching people who had trained for years show off their skills was exhilarating.

The second round was much the same as the first, though less contenders. And it was clear that some had advantage over the others. It lasted far less time than the first, with Feyd soon coming out as the blood-stained winner.

You stood at the balcony as he was named the winner, the ultimate champion and he repeated his bow from before. But this time you returned it, dipping your head in thanks to your champion.

Feyd was lead from the arena and you did not hesitate to demand to know where he was to be taken.

“You are not going to him.” Your father turned to you, speaking to you for the first time since you arrived.

“And why not, I have every right to congratulate my champion. Would you deny Irulan if her man had won?”

Your father huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. You knew he would not argue, because there was little point. You were stubborn, much like him.

His silence was taken as permission, and you quickly hurried after the guard. You were led down a series of steps before arriving at a room similar to where you had painted Feyd earlier. Except this time, there was a square bath and a bed in the corner. You assumed, then, this was where warriors were allowed to relax after the arena.

“My lord Feyd, the princess is here for you,” the guard called out before leaving you alone to wait.

But you did not have to wait long.

“Princess, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Feyd asked, smirking as he made his way over.

He had yet to remove his armour or clean the blood from his skin and it was a sight that sent a jolt of desire down your spine.

“I believe I owe you a reward, you did win after all.”

Feyd’s smirk widened, forgoing cleaning the blood from his hands and tossing the towel to the side. In a few steps, he closed the distance between you, stopping short just a hair’s breadth from your lips.

“You wore white.”

It was not a question, but it did not feel like a simple statement either. It was like he was thinking aloud.

“You asked me to,” you replied simply, and Feyd raised a brow at you in curiosity.

His hands trailed softly over the layers of pearl, fascinated by each string as it draped over you. You ignored the small red streaks he left behind, it was worth it to have him touch you.

“And I believe your reward is your choice?”

Feyd stopped his exploration at your waist, instead wrapping an arm around you and pulling you tight to him. The tension was back, lingering just below the surface. You had felt it when you first met him. The way he stared, the lingering kiss to your hand. Something had simmered even then and it was almost back at boiling point.

He considered his options for a moment, wondering just what you were willing to let him do.

“A princess deserves a throne, yes?”

You barely stifled the surprise giggle that left you, watching him as he walked over to the bed. Your head tilted as he laid down, stroking a thumb over his lips as he spoke.

“Claim your throne, my princess.”

You hesitated for just a moment and Feyd sat up with a smile. You wondered if he could possibly mean what you thought he meant.

“Don’t overthink it. I have chosen my reward. Sit on my face and let me taste that royal cunt.”

You felt desire fill you at just those words. Something about the directness of it had your skin flushing and heat pooling between your thighs.

“Well, I can’t deny my champion his prize.”

You moved to the bed, watching as Feyd laid back down and waited for you. Your dress wasn’t exactly designed for movement like this, so you made quick work of removing it. Feyd on the other hand, was still clad in his armour. Deep red blood remained on his hands and face. Yet you did not mind.

Now fully bare, you crawled up the bed, not missing the hungry stare Feyd gave you. His hands were quick to tug you to where he wanted you. Large hands found your waist and helped you hover yourself inches above his face. You could feel the heat of his breath on your skin and the anticipation was eating away at you as you waited.

Feyd took his time, holding your waist tight as he inhaled the scent of you. He could feel the heat of your core already and he had not even begun. With slow licks of his tongue, Feyd took his first taste. But just that feeling had your eyes rolling back. It was not the first time you had taken a lover, but it was the first time you had been in this position.

“Feyd..” you breathed out as he took another long swipe between your slick folds, teasing you.

You could feel him smirk against you, and you wordlessly willed him to keep going with your soft, breathy moans.

Feyd was in heaven, if he believed in it. The taste, the heat, everything about you was divine and he was slowly losing what little restraint he had left. With a sharp tug, he brought you flush to his face, burying himself deep within you with a growl. His tongue was relentless now, soon finding a rhythm that had you moaning his name over and over.

“You taste divine, princess, I would fight a hundred men if this was my reward…” he muttered against your skin, switching from long licks to wrapping his lips around your bud.

Your hands quickly found purchase on the bedframe while his wrapped around your thighs, spreading the wider as he began to alternate between lapping at you and suckling hard on your bundle of nerves. Every sensation was overwhelming, and you could do nothing more than moan and pant his name.

Feyd could not get enough. His own arousal strained against his trousers, but he did not care. His sole focus was you. Desperately working to have you come apart for him, to drench his face as you peaked.

Your nails scratched across his scalp as he growled deep into you, feeling the first pulses of your impending orgasm. And it only spurred him on. The wet sound of his tongue against your folds and the sounds of your moans filled the room as he pulled you down closer. As close as he could get you and it still did not feel like enough.

Feyd was quick to add his thumb to your pearl as he felt your thighs twitch either side of his head, telling him you were close.

“Feyd..oh..yes…keep going please…” you were near incoherent as he sped up, the bridge of his nose now pushing so deliciously against your bud that you near screamed as you came.

“That’s it, princess…” he cooed, slowing his motions but not removing his tongue from your depths.

He wanted to drink down every drop, commit your taste to memory. With a grunt, he pulled away, smirking at the mix of dried blood from battle and your slick as it stained your inner thighs.

He helped you roll to the side, wiping his face on the back of his hand before kissing you gently. You looked so beautiful, a look of blissful satisfaction on your face. The look in his own eyes was intense.

He knew he could not keep you at his side, but he had never quite felt like this about anyone else. Like he needed you near him. Like he would not be able to stay far from you.

What he did not know, was that you felt the same. It felt strange, being so desperate for someone you barely knew. But it was you who voiced what you both felt. Though no words could truly describe it.

“I fear I can’t stay away from you…”

@blissfulphilospher @tumblin-theworldaway @lady-phasma @anjelicawrites @aemondsbabe

@alexagirlie @avidreader @connorsui @kaelatargaryen @reemoony

@wo-ming-bai @mamawiggers1980

#feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha smut #feyd x you #x reader smut #x reader insert #dune fanfiction #feyd smut

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alchemistc · 3 months

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too many toasters | bucktommy 1/1

Tommy contemplates asking Buck to move in with him.

read on ao3

He's reorganizing a cupboard to make room for the massive crockpot he'd found for a steal at an estate sale (thinking of the stew he wants to make for Evan the next time the Santa Ana's are chasing at their heels) when he notices.

Evan's protein powder, still balanced on top of the fridge because he's hesitant to claim the spot Tommy had cleared for him weeks ago.

Evan's spare immersion blender, brought over because he'd seen Tommy's old-school espresso maker and wanted to try his hand at foam art. Unsuccessfully, considering both of them were avoiding cows milk at the moment.

The spare set of Jeep keys looped next to the garage door, which Evan hadn't asked him to return after Tommy changed his oil, and Tommy had taken to touching on his way out of the house like a wife stroking a token of her husband far off in a foreign country fighting a war.

In the living room, the blanket over the couch is tucked and folded in a way Tommy can never replicate and doesn't try, because he likes the look of it, hanging neatly over the arm of the loveseat.

In the garden, a second set of gloves, too unwieldy for anything but pulling thick weeds.

In the bathroom, the mouthwash Evan swears by tucked next to Tommy's aftershave in the medicine cabinet.

In the bedroom, two hoodies Tommy has stolen and stretched out the shoulders of - a flavored lube in the bedside table drawer that they'd both laughed themselves silly about after one use and Tommy hadn't had the heart to toss in the trash the next morning - three department issue tee's folded neatly in his wardrobe that Evan outgrew years ago and has retrofitted for sleepwear - a book on the bloody history of the potato on top of the ancient PS4 setup Tommy still hasn't moved to the living room.

And more - Tommy can picture them all in his mind clear as day, and his heart lurches fondly, warningly, in his chest.

They’ve settled somewhere between normal and warp speed, now that the early relationship milestones have all been blown clean out of the water. Spare keys exchanged, controversial sexual fantasies shared, shovel talks mostly avoided by the sheer power of dry wit and matching bitchiness, I love you’s exchanged beneath a hazy crescent moon with half a bottle of Merlot drunk between them and the wisteria hanging off his pergola tickling their noses. Tommy counts the time Evan had let him throw the Jeep up on the lift so he could do a full diagnostic rundown, and Evan counts the time Tommy let him Facetime with his nephew in Reno. Milestones, common and uncommon, that Tommy had stumbled through with a hand clenched in Evan’s, absolutely prepared to match both speed and psychosis.

He’s met the parents, at more than just a passing glance with his face covered in the same soot that painted a radius around Evan’s mouth. He’s fully integrated into the 118’s groupchats - every iteration, though he’s fond of the Maddie-Karen-Athena combo that never fails to go for the throat where station fuckery is involved.

They’ve done the stupid zodiac quizzes Tommy’s sister had sent him, Evan curled into the circle of his arms and ignoring the barrage of texts he’d gotten from Maddie after he’d asked her what time of day he’d been born, grinning into the skin of Tommy’s pec at the readout and then promptly reminding Tommy that neither one of them believed in that shit, anyway.

They’ve talked about the future — for themselves, individually, for the possibility with a partner. For each other, if (when, Tommy’s heart whispers) they make a good run of things.

Evan’s lease is up in a month.

They haven’t talked about it.

He only knows because Eddie had mentioned it, about as subtle as a bullhorn, before Tommy had to stop him from gossiping about all the missteps Evan’s had with living with significant others in the past.

(”There are things about Evan I should hear from Evan first,” Tommy had told him, a little more stern than he’d been going for, enough to make Eddie visibly swallow down a barrage of thinly veiled disdain for Evan’s exes.)

Evan hasn’t brought it up, but Tommy knows a little , enough to piece together why he might be reluctant to broach the subject.

But as Tommy shifts the popcorn maker into a corner and removes the toaster he’s been tinkering with to no avail for six months now, crockpot sliding in without so much as a rustle from the other kitchenware stuffed in there, he thinks about the recent quiet that has swallowed him whole on nights when they just can’t quite make the revolving door of their disparate schedules work. He thinks of the times he’s pushed through the door to Evan’s loft, dead on his feet and world-weary after a patient arrived at the helipad DOA — of the sound of his voice falling into a tangent easing something inside Tommy even though his joints and his heart were both still aching.

He thinks of the way Evan looks, toothpaste on the corners of his lips because he’s had a thought halfway through brushing that couldn’t wait the extra forty-five seconds to be heard. He thinks of the way he hates washing his sheets between visits, now, because he doesn’t like losing the faint scent of Evan’s shampoo on the pillowcase.

Tommy closes the cabinet and makes a beeline for the jug of protein powder sitting on top of his fridge. Opens the cabinet door above it and shifts the jug back into the spot he’d assigned it weeks ago.

“Right,” he says, out loud, into the silence of the house.

The house sighs back at him.

---

Tommy is incredibly good at stifling the part of himself that enjoys rom-coms more than any other genre of fiction. He’s had years, decades, to push his soft sighs down below his diaphragm where they can’t hurt him.

Evan appreciates how little fanfare there’s been to most of their firsts. The lack of pressure, the ease with which they’ve approached things that they’d both previously considered watershed moments.

He considers texting Eddie to ask him if Evan has mentioned anything about re-upping his lease. Tosses that thought aside almost immediately, because he can already see the snarky response: There are things about Buck you should hear from Buck first.

He nearly reaches out to Bobby, before he remembers Bobby’s soft smile, a month and a half ago, while Evan carted a squealing Jee-Yun around Hen and Karen’s backyard, his gentle smile when Tommy had handed him a club soda and lime. (”You know, I never thought I’d see Buck settle in to something he doesn’t need a pep talk about,” Bobby had said, and something had unfurled in Tommy like a delicate flower reaching for the sun.) He could. It’s stupid to think Bobby wouldn’t be happy to talk to Tommy about something like this — but there’s a quiet voice in the back of his mind telling him this is something he needs to figure out for himself.

In the end, he keeps it simple. Just enough romance to maybe give Evan a heads up. Two nights after shoving Evan’s protein power where it belongs, Tommy tells him to dress slightly more than casual, picks him up in the Nova he’s been fixing up for three months, drives him up the PCH until the sun is low on the horizon. They watch the clouds spark up in pinks and purples, the sea reflecting colors back, and then Tommy gets them burgers and beers, and they walk them off in the twilight, shoes in their hands as they drift along the sun-warm sand.

Evan points out a cloud that he swears looks like the tree in the front yard of the house he grew up in, and Tommy seizes the moment, shifts the slim box from his back pocket while Evan is turned away. It’s nearly too dark, and they should probably have turned back for the car twenty minutes ago, but Evan has a step count he likes to meet when he won’t be at the gym for a few days, and they’ve got plans for a long weekend.

Tommy takes a deep breath when Evan turns back to look at him. His breath tumbles out in a rush when he catches sight of the box. “It’s not a ring,” Tommy tells him, cringing, hyperaware all of the sudden that Evan would absolutely know that just by the size and shape of the box.

Evan tilts back on his heels. There is a gentle grin on his face — the one he had five seconds before Tommy told him he loved him, the one he wore the first time Tommy threw one of his hoodies on in the chill of the loft and raised the cuffs surreptitiously to his nose, the one Tommy sees every time he presses a kiss to the pink mark over Evan’s brow.

Like he knows.

Like he’s been waiting on Tommy to catch up.

“You could have just said something yourself,” Tommy notes, with a hint of sass, as the picture comes into focus. “You didn’t have to send Eddie in to drop hints.”

Evan bites his lip. “Is that for me?” That cloud looks like the tree outside my childhood home, my ass.

Cheeky. God, Tommy loves him. “Could be.”

Evan crab-hands his way forward, and Tommy shifts his weight back just enough that he misses, in the growing dark. There’s a little helicopter on the keyring he’d bought, no key attached because Evan already has that, and it’s so sappy he’s bound to get half a dozen teasing texts about it the very first time someone at the 118 clocks it. Tommy doesn’t care.

Evan shifts his weight back, drops his hands to his sides. Tommy can see the moon reflecting off the water in the sparkle of his eyes. “Ask me,” Evan says, and Tommy leans in to kiss him, instead.

---

Tommy finds no less than six of his henley’s in the depths of Evan’s closet while they’re paring down the parts of his wardrobe he doesn’t wear anymore. Rather than comment on it, he folds them neatly and adds them to the keep pile.

The Buckley’s, always deciding to be overbearing at the worst of times, try to buy them a new mattress when they hear through the grapevine that Evan is moving.

Chimney spends a week giving Tommy shit about the keyring, and Tommy retaliates by buying Jee a toy copter that lights up, makes noise, and can manage to hover off the ground just at ankle height.

---

“We have four toasters,” Evan comments. They’ve spent an entire three days off unpacking, the both of them unsettled by the idea of leaving boxes stacked around the house, or in the spare room (Thank you, Eddie, for that shared trauma response).

He’s shirtless, rubbing a serum into his skin as Tommy settles in on his side of the bed, soft pink lips parted, favoring his good leg a little. Tommy’s already reaching for the massage oil by the time Evan has finished his thankfully simple skincare routine. Tommy needs to upgrade his stock medicine cabinet, if Evan is going to continue stockpiling a backup of both of their respective skin and hair products.

He waves the bottle of massage oil at Evan when he moves towards the bed, and something eases in Evan’s expression — the reminder that Tommy pays such close attention to him always enough to turn him a bit gooey, and Tommy has never used it for evil, but he could, if he wanted to. “Do you want to get comfortable to sleep, or is this going to make you horny again?”

Evan grins, bright and wide, a little mischievous as he tilts his head and cocks a hip. Down to his briefs, there’s not much left to Tommy’s imagination.

“Not my fault you’ve got magic hands.”

“I’m merely trying to perform a service for my partner who has been moving boxes up and down stairs for a week and a half.”

“I’ll perform a service on you,” Evan rebuttals, tongue between his teeth, and the muscles in Tommy’s groin tighten on instinct, more than anything else.

“Three out of ten for cheesiness. I’ll give you six overall for sticking the landing.”

“That’s at least an eight and you know it,” Evan argues, the side-sleeper knee pillow already out from under the bed and propping up his leg as he shifts to get comfortable.

Tommy doesn’t warm the dollop of oil in his hand before he slides his palm up Evan’s thigh, and Evan makes a noise halfway between a squeak and a snort. He shoots Tommy a bratty look that Tommy wants to devour, but —

He warms a much more generous pour of oil between his palms before he slowly searches out the deepest knots with gentle fingers, and Evan sighs, eyes tipping closed as Tommy works. His dick twitches in his briefs, but Tommy ignores it, for the time being.

They’ll have time for it later.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #tevan fic #if you're interested in my zodiac hc's hop to the end notes on ao3 #theres a few gems in there i discovered when i got curious

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yongbokology · 1 year

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part dos of ‘don’t accidentally beat your dick to your best friend’

part one

black coded reader <3

warnings; smut

an: you asked, i delivered 🧞‍♀️

eren is a mess. a complete utter mess.

after realizing he’s been jerking it to you for the past few months, he becomes a nervous wreck around. oh it was bad.

his first encounter with you after the realization, literally happens the day after.

you were running late for work and your car was currently in the shop so you sent a rather urgent text to him with multiple crying emojis, asking him to take you to work.

without even seeing the message, he begins to panic just seeing your name pop up.

did you somehow use your woman tuition and found out he was fucking himself to you? it plagued eren’s mind for a few seconds, his hands clammy as he grasps his phone.

he lets out a sigh of relief once he reads the message and instantly responds.

‘yeah ofc, see u in a bit’

‘thx ren, you’re the best!’

oh eren feels like shit.

he felt like a pervert. like he wasn’t supposed to see you in your nakedness, pleasuring yourself for thousands to see.

“.. ren, are you okay? you’re awfully quiet today.. i’m sorry if you were busy-”

he immediately shakes his head “no! i wasn’t doing anything. i don’t mind at all.. just a bit distracted is all.” he clears his throat, eyes fixated on the road. not sparing you a single glance.

you stare at the side of his face, picking him apart in your brain. all these years the two of you had the pleasure of knowing each other, you knew eren’s mannerisms, his nervous ticks and more.

something was definitely up.

…

“god not this again. connie could you maybe not be so open about the porn you indulge in.” reiner is fed up with the porn talk, just trying to enjoy this sunday afternoon with his friends.

“okay but bro i’m telling you, this girl is fire. i’d def buy her only fans if she had one.”

eren isn’t too interested in the conversation. his head’s in the clouds. lately he’s been fantasizing about you. a lot actually.

breaking you in half. fucking your brains out in every setting possible. this was new to say the least. before, eren hadn’t had such thoughts about you.

i mean yeah he did sometimes think about what it’d be like if the two of you were together. would the two of you be good partners as you are friends? but he never thought about you in such obscene ways.

it is this next part that has eren almost falling out of his chair.

“[your user]. never heard of her?”

both jean and reiner shake their heads.

eren on the other hand feels his skin run cold, eyes bulging out his head at the username. it was your username.

connie is now pulling out his phone and eren quickly catches on that he is about to pull up your page. with frantic eyes and haste, eren waits for connie to unlock his phone and in the split second that connie rotated his screen towards the three men, eren yanks it from his grasp and dramatically let’s connie’s phone fall face down on the concrete.

“yo what the fuck man?!” connie yells, mouth ajar as he looks between eren and his phone that is definitely not working when he picks it up.

“i-i um. i’m sorry.. it slipped..”

both reiner and jean silently blink, throwing glances at each other.

“oh it fucking slipped? my five year old nephew could put on a better fucking performance.”

“i’m really sorry man. i get paid tomorrow, i’ll pay for it. i swear.”

…

“i really needed this, thanks for hanging out with me ren. karina has been more bitchy than usual.” it was no secret you hated your boss. you often ranted about her to eren, so much so that he hated her as well and doesn’t even know what she looks like.

“of course. you want some more popcorn? bowl’s almost empty.”

you nod and eren gets up from his spot on his bed and retreats to the kitchen to refill the bowl.

you shift your eyes to the tv, ‘bad boys’ currently at it’s thirty minute mark.

you feel a buzz under your butt.

with furrowed brows you shift and pull out eren’s phone that you had no idea you were sitting on.

his phone screen comes to life, him and armin in the background of the notifications that fill the screen.

there were a few from twitter and growing curious as to what eren’s twitter feed looked liked, you unlocked his phone and hit refresh.

your jaw unhinges when you pop up on his screen. fingers knuckle deep in your cunt.

you’re in shock like you literally didn’t film this a few hours ago and hit post. you just weren’t expecting to see yourself on your best friend’s timeline.

you stare at yourself, at first unsure how to react to this knowledge but then the thought of eren touching himself to you skates across your mind and suddenly you’re clenching your thighs, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

the thought arouses you.

eren comes back with the bowl filled to the brim and his smile is wiped off his face once he sees his phone in your hands.

“eren,” you start. your voice is low but sweet. “is there something you want to tell me?”

he sucks in a breath, pupils shaking as you lay the phone on the bed. he sees what you were looking at clear as day.

“y/n.. i-i can explain.”

your plump lips turn upwards into a grin. mischief writes all over them.

“come here.”

it’s a command that has him hesitantly obeying.

he sits down on the bed, farther than where he originally was.

you sigh and close the proximity by climbing into lap, the popcorn bowl being discarded to the side.

eren feels hell fire creeping up his neck. his mouth his dry and he can suddenly hear the thrumming of his blood.

“how many times have you fucked yourself to me. hm?”

his lips tremble. “a few times..” it almost comes out as a mumble.

your smirk widens at his blatant lie.

“oh eren, you and i both know that’s not true.”

you push him until his back is flat on the bed, your thighs on either side of his hips. you splay your hands on his chest and fully plant your clothes pussy on his crotch.

he could literally just cum right then and there.

“you know what i hate more than liars?”

once eren realizes you actually want him to respond he shakes his head.

you lean forward until your lips are grazing against his ear. your tits mushed against his chest.

“i hate disobedient boys,” you lean back up and eren looks dazed. aware but dazed. “are you a disobedient boy eren?”

…

needless to say, he’s not. he listens to your every command which is why he was currently whimpering, hands pressed against his chest, trying his very best not to touch you.

your mouth works wonders on his cock, it weeps in all it’s 8inch glory, precum finding it’s way onto your tongue.

you pull him out of your mouth with a lewd ‘pop’, eyeing eren as you pump his aching length. “you close?”

tears form in eren’s eyes. everything feels fuzzy. his brain is scattered but he still manages to give a slight nod. he looked so fucked out and god what a sight it was.

“you gonna cum for me pretty boy?”

the nickname makes eren whine.

“eren, answer me or you don’t get to cum.” you grit, your free hand taking hold on his throat, clenching your dainty yet powerful fingers around it.

“y-yes! yes. m’gonna c-cum.” he chokes out. his pupils becoming dilated as you speed up your hand around his cock.

you smile at this. “i want you to come in my mouth ‘kay? and you can touch me now.” your mouth is instantly on his cock after finishing your sentence.

eren props himself up on his elbows, the iron grip you still have on his neck combined with you sucking the everlasting life out of him has eren cumming in no time with a cracked moan.

“fuh-fuckkk.” tears are streaming down his face now, jaw unhinged as you lap up the messy head on his cock.

“got anymore for me?” you don’t expect him to answer, instead you squeeze on his balls and one last spurt of cum falls onto your shiny lips.

this has eren falling back flat on his back, panting heavily like he’d just finished running a marathon.

you lick at your lips and hum at the taste of him. salty, as expected but not overbearing.

“you did so good for me ren.” you smile, crawling up beside him. resting a hand on his naked chest.

eren lazily turns his head towards you, his cheeks tear stained. he looks utterly broken and it ignites something within you.

“this stays between us ‘kay?” he nods slowly at that, too tired to speak.

what in the world did he just get himself into?

tag list: @hellavile @animeloverzx @starlightmid @gobblethiskitty

#eren jaeger #eren x reiner #eren x black reader #black coded reader #aot x black reader #aot #shingeki no kyojin #levi x reader #jean x reader #armin x reader #reiner x reader #aot smut #porco galliard

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madame-fear · 1 year

Note

Lord of the tides Lucerys x hightower daughter nsfw fic please 🥹

*ೃ༄ 𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄. .ೃ࿐

★ amira speaks ! : honourary thanks to my beta reader and brainstormer @maria699669 for proofreading this and helping me out! (love you, bitchy asshole.) I always clarify just in case: Lucerys is aged up. — summary : many years after not seeing one another, your nephew encounters you at a feast... with your betrothed. And having crushed on one another for such a long time, he doesn’t fancy the idea of you with another man; leaving him with no other choice but to show you who you truly belong to. — word counter : 3.7k

— pairing : lord!lucerys velaryon x hightower/targ!reader — genre : smut.

TW | vaginal sex, jealous sex maybe? creampie, slight dom/sub, slight mentions of breeding kink, dirty talking.

The castle where a feast for Lords, Ladies, Princes and Princesses was being hosted was grand. The room was vastly lit large chandeliers that contained several candles on each of them, accompanying the warming experience of the feast.

Some chatted with one another, and others simply danced with each other rather nimbly, yet joyfully. There you were, as the youngest daughter of King Viserys I and Alicent Hightower, dancing with some Lords, but mainly with your betrothed. Your movements were delicate yet a bit unexperienced, baltering around just for the mere fun of it. Some girly chuckles spurred from your lips, being quite the beauty, as some Lords discreetly fought to hold your hand to dance; despite your future Lord Husband keeping a close eye on each one of them so they would not take you away from him.

Your loose hair and long dress simultaneously swayed smoothly, along your movements. As you were dancing in circles with your betrothed, you briefly let go of his hand to change positions in the dancing. That single second you released it, another hand took hold of youe own, pulling you away from your own betrothed.

“Princess (y/n),” a familiar masculine voice greeted.

Shifting your sight to stare at the young man that had taken you away just to have you dancing with him, you found none other than the now Lord of Driftmark, Lucerys Velaryon. He had overgrown you, since the last time you had seen him. His voice was deeper, he was much taller, and the shy puppy gaze he held on his hazel eyes had faded away to become into a more mature, confident one.

“Prince Luce—” clearing your throat, you interrupted yourself. “Lord Lucerys.” you greeted back, calling him by his new title. “A pleasure to see you around here. Not a surprise, but a pleasure nevertheless.” a smirk grew at the corner of his lips. “Likewise, Princess.” as he responded, his hazel eyes shifted towards your betrothed for a brief moment, just like your own. Your betrothed seemed contempt with the situation, and confused. “Lord Husband, this is my nephew Lord Lucerys.” lucerys gave him a single bow down with his head as you introduced them to one another. The face of the young Lord seemed serious, despite his grin remaining politely on his expression. Luke was not at all satisfied knowing you had already been betrothed, and prone to have heirs in a near future.

“A pleasure to meet you, my Lord.” your betrothed reached out his hand, shaking it with the one of the Lordling of Driftmark. “Likewise to you.” he responded, a bit blatantly cold. “I hope it’s not too much trouble, if I take the hand of my aunt for a moment? We haven’t seen each others for years.” for a brief tense moment, you stared at your betrothed expectantly, awaiting for his answer.

“You may, my Lord.” you swore your body relaxed upon hearing the approval of your betrothed, even releasing a discreet sigh. “I will be chatting with other Lords if you ever need me, my love.” and with one last kiss and a sweet rapid smile, your future husband walked away, smiling at him before rapidly turning towards Luke with an ever greater grin. Incredibly enough, you had to raise your sight to stare at him, unlike a few years ago, that he was your same height, and slightly a few centimeters shorter.

Leaning slightly closer to your ear as he pressed your body against his own, gawking upon the movements of your betrothed that faded away amidst the crowd, he whispered. “I must admit, you look more than lovely tonight.” a small chuckle escaped from your lips, a shiver running across your spine as his hot breath tingled on your skin. “As you do yourself, Lucerys.” you whispered back, fixing your stare on him as he began twirling you around the place. His hazel eyes nearly pierced into your soul, they were captivating. In a teasing manner, his eyes scanned you up and down as both of you danced amidst the great crowd of Lords and Ladies together.

His hands touched you in a delicate manner to move you around, just to guide you with the dancing. “And I must admit, you have also grown more confident than the timid boy you used to be.” the young Lord snickered, tilting his head slightly as his hands travelled to your waist, not very discreetly. “Is there any particular motive of why you say so?” he inquired, lifting one of his hands to slide a strand of hair behind your ear.

A small fluster overtook you, spreading the crimson tint from your cheeks, to the rest of your face. “The way you so abruptly and shamelessly took me away from my Lord Husband just to dance with me and pull me closer to you, it would have been unlikely for you to do so when we were younger.” this time, it was you who whispered into his ear, tiptoeing slightly.

It was no secret that, amidst the war both of your families had and the spiteful tension your brothers had with the Velaryons, Lucerys and you always treated one another kindly. The kind treatment was mostly due to the mutual crush you had on one another, always catching each other discreetly glancing over your direction.

You even remembered how once when Jace had taken your older sister Helaena to dance, Luke immediatly stood up and did the same with you. Even if his dancing movements were a bit clumsily shy and he could barely look into your eyes, notoriously blushing like a little girl, Lucerys always gave you the most delicate of treatments. You were used to hearing compliments from him, and occasionally, Luke would gift you things such as flowers, or jewellery. This time, he seemed to act more flirty around you, and was able to profoundly stare into your eyes.

Both his arms were wrapped around your waist. One of his hand ever so gently rubbed your back, swaying your body around. “Well, had I no right of talking with my aunt? Besides, not only I was aware he was your betrothed, but I suppose it is only fair for me to talk with you once again, after many years of not seeing one another.” a spur of girlish giggles escaped from your lips at his response. You firmly placed your head against his chest, embracing his body with your arms. You had to admit, you were always eager in meeting him, without the rest of your relatives being around. And with him having snarkier and sassier responsed, it only made his company more thrilling.

A few moments of silence loomed over, before he spoke again. “I also have to say, it s pointless to hide the way I always fervently wished to have you with me, this way.” he admitted quietly, making you raise your sight towards him, with furrowed eyebrows. It was just as if Lucerys could read your mind, not caring whether or not both of you were betrothed. Luke gazed down at you, with a smile. He just knew you felt the same way. “Perhaps, we could go somewhere more private, away from this noisy crowd?” his suggestion was dreadfully alluring, near to impossible denying it. After all, it was a bit too loud, and all you desired at the moment was to stay by his side in a quiet ambience where no one could peep at however you moved along one another, or whatever you spoke.

Craning your head slightly to your side, you snickered. “Lead the way, my Lord.” you whispered back, feeling immediatly his hands slide away from your waist, taking only one of your hands, and turning around to walk away. The room was, indeed, an entirely noisy crowd that made a faint headache grow. The Lordling, with you holding his hand, surreptitiously walked among the public, quietly apologising if he stumbled upon anyone. Once you finally managed to escape the uncomfortable amount of people filling the feast, Luke walked you towards one of the doors that lead to the large hallways of the castle.

The raucous noise of laughing and chattering Lords and Ladies became muffled as you left the room, only to leisurely fade away into nothingness. The only noise that ever echoed through the dimly lit halls of the grand castle, with seemingly no guards or maidens nearby, was the sound of your footsteps getting as far away as you could from both the public view, and the loud chatting.

“Lucerys, I think we might finally have some privac—” the Lord released the grip on your hand, only to interrupt you by firmly — yet softly enough to not harm you — pushing you against the wall.

His tall figure shadowed you, making you gulp all the while you raised your eyes to stare at him, furrowing your eyebrows. One of his hands was placed on your waist abruptly, making you quietly yelp in surprise. Before you could lower your gaze to stare at his hand, he used the fingers of his free hand to slide them under your chin, and raise your face. Lucerys carried a smug look on his face, feeling a certain pride overtaking him at having you just as he wished: under his charge.

“You have no idea how much I already despise your betrothed.” he spoke, rather vehemently. Your eyebrows continued furrowed, feeling intimidated by his audacious movements. It was a rather sudden confession, but in all honestly, not one you were surprised to know about, considering you had taken a particular notice of the way he spoke directly and behaved around your future husband. A quivering sigh rolled from your lips, feeling his hand lower and shift your dress upwards, meanwhile his thumb was running across your lower lip in a slow, dominant manner.

“We can’t pretend to not have noticed, we have always wanted each other ever since childhood. Is that not so, (y/n)?”

Your mind screamed to push your nephew away, and deny all the statements made by himself. But deep inside your heart, what Lucerys said was all the pure truth. There was no point in pretending what you both felt was never there, it was there, and even you both had been teased by your notoriously mutual feelings by your siblings. As much as you respected your betrothed, it wasn’t the man you wished to be with. Not the one you had always truly desired, but rather, a mere political convenience that would help you have new allies and heirs for your House. For a split moment, your eyes had gazed down, only to then look up at him.

“Fuck it, yes.”

A huge burden came off your back with those simple words. A moment of tense atmosphere was felt in between the two of you like a spark, with your faces inches away to the point where you could feel one another’s hot pants.

Allowing your desires to take the reins and control your very own actions and words, Lucerys simultaneously pushed you even further against the wall and against his body as you took a desperate hold of his clothing, pulling him towards you, locking lips with one another. Lucerys, using both of his hands, took hold of your hips just to gently hold you firmly against the wall, and at the same time have your legs tightening around his waist. Your arms went to hug his neck, interwining your fingers around his messy dark hair, needily pushing his face closer to your own and deepening the kiss. None of you were the bold type, but you had gone as far as exploring your own mouths with each other’s tongues.

Without allowing time to pass any further, Lucerys slided his hands under your silky dress, going to play around with the waistband of your underwear using his fingers. Taking hold of the waistband, he moved them along your legs rather eagerly, making the cold air around the halls hit your exposed, moistened genitalia, and causing you goosebumps. A quiet growl escaped from his throat, managing to unbuckle his belt using only one trembling hand, sliding it away along his very own underwear. His underwear and pants felt slightly away from him, exposing his very own hardened member.

Out of curiousity, you couldn’t help but for a moment break apart the kiss, with your glossy from saliva lips grasping against one another, being constantly tickled with your hot pants, simply to lower your gaze in a not very discreet manner; taking a peek at how his erection looked like. As you had entered into mature age, you often liked to fantasise about experiencing such moment before falling asleep. Now, it was a reality, and you could feel yourself dripping wet in anticipation. His size was rather big, and you not having been deflowered just yet, were concerned on whether how much it could possibly stretch you out, and initially make you feel a sharp tingling of pain until you adjusted yourself.

“Raqagon skoros ao ūndegon? (Like what you see?)” upon hearing his question in High Valyrian, it had been quite obvious you were dumbfounded by his very own size, with a crimson tint creeping across your cheeks when you looked back into the smug gawk he carried in his green eyes. You gulped, allowing him to speak before you could answer. A chuckle spurred from him, “Ah, those eyes of you say enough, my love.” you gasped, feeling how in a swift movement, he abruptly leaned close enough to have the wet tip of his erect cock pressing tightly against your moist pussy. The pressure felt good enough, and you already craved to have him filling you.

“I will show you, just how virile I can be. Better than that silly man you got betrothed to, surely.” as Lucerys held you tightly against the wall, leaning his head down to teasingly bite your neck and leave some marks, the Lordling promptly entered his size into your tight cavity, making a slightly audible fleshy sound due to your wetness. Your eyes fluttered shut as you released a sudden groan simultaneously along him, who groaned against your sensitive skin as he nibbled softly on your neck. The pain of having your inner walls stretched made you bite your lower lip, trying to get used to the feeling of his hot cock, as he kept using his very own Valyrian words to provoke you further. A little grin formed at the corner of his rosy lips, feeling your slick run through his erection.

“You are so tight,” he growled out, trailing his lips lower to kiss your collarbone, and wander around your breasts as your dress was slightly loose, with the intentions of leaving his lovemarks on your velvet-like skin. “And you have no idea how good you feel.” luke continued. You had adjusted to his member rather rapidly, helping him by moving your hips in a downward motion, releasing a breathy gasp as he entered deeper. As much as he wished to fuck your brain out and establish who was the one that truly deserved you, that didn’t mean Luke would actually do anything to harm you — he simply wished for you to have a moment to remember with him.

“P-Please, my dragon Lord, continue...” your words were a plea, and he did as you wished. Moving his head back up, he took the skin of your neck in between his teeth, biting harder as you threw your head back to give him more carnal access. As soon as you gave the green light, he buried his cock deeper inside of you, snapping his own hips in a leisurely growing rough manner; not being able to contain what he had wished to do to you for such a long time. Your legs trembled from pleasure, feeling how you felt fulfilled with him inside of you. “L-Lucerys... Hmm,” you groaned quietly. You wished to not be as vocal as you could actually be, in order to not be noticed by anyone else, but Lucerys preferred otherwise.

Being satisfied as he noticed some faint, ghosthly bruises and marks began appearing on your neck and cleavage, he trailed his lips against your skin up towards your ear, nibbling on your earlobe and panting against it on purpose. “I don’t care if anyone sees us,” as you thought earlier, it seemed as if he could read your thoughts. “I would much prefer to have everyone hear just how beautifully vocal you are, begging for my cock, just so they can see who you belong to.”

The young Lord had a way with charming you off your feet using his words. With every word he said in the former sentence, his movements became rougher, hearing him groaning and moaning even louder with every pound he gave to your sweetly wet pussy using his cock. Every in-and-out movement the dragon Prince had against your genitalia, the fleshier sounds simply intensified, making you shake your entire body and not being able to form a proper, coherent speech.

Your forehead dripped sweat from the physical excercise, being a mess of incoherent moaning and panting. Soon enough, a fiery heat wave tightened your chest, leisurely travelling down towards your stomach in the form of a knot; it could nearly make you see stars. You knew exactly what it meant, as simultaneously his hardened bulge twitched inside of you, going faster.

The Lord closed his eyes, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Both of you clinged to one another as if your life depended on it, but it was solely what you had always wished it would happen.

“I-I think, I-I’m going to cum.” he stuttered, before he interrupted himself with a loud gaspy moan. “M-Me too, Luke... P-Please, f-fill me... Fill me with your seed. Cum inside of me.” you pleaded once again, and it seemed to work perfectly for him just to fuck you harder. A scoff escaped off of his lips.

“Oh, I-I wasn’t planning on doing it any other way, p-princess.” both your grunts intensified with every movement he made, feeling yourself fulfilled, nearly melting under the way he so perfectly satisfied your untouched needs. “I will only allow you to cum, i-if you scream my name.” softly, pecking sloppy little kisses around your jawline, one of his hands had began to playfully grop one of your breasts, squeezing it on his hand. You gulped, feeling yourself barely being able to think. You just preferred to serve him, and satisfy one another. You were wrapped right around his finger, melting under his gaze, kisses, touch, and cock.

“L-Lucerys, please...”

All the energy you had remaining was drained, in a good way. You were exhausted. The next moans rolling off your lips with his name, were a bit more hitched, stuttering, weakly coming out of your lips as you felt yourself finally reaching the peak of your excitement. With a few last lazy movements, he finished to pound against you for the last time, before he harshly pressed the entire body of his dick inside of you, releasing together a scream of pleasure as you could feel how the warm liquids of his seed filled your stomach very slowly, and his cock became slippery from your own moist discharge. His semen mixed with your own wetness, oozing right out of you and dripping through your legs. Tiredly, he adverted his gaze downwards, to turn himself on at the precious sight of your cumming. You were filled with him, and none of you would want it any other way.

Once you had simultaneously come, releasing your discharges rightfully and orgasming properly, a few moments of silence loomed over you with the mere sound of your pantings as, with one last growl coming off your throats, he slipped his erection out of you, and threw his body against you. There was sweat on your body from all the movements and the intensity. The Lord chuckled, with his breath hitched. A certain pride filled him. He knew he was able to fuck you like no other and that certainly you could never compare him to any other man, and much less to your own political betrothed. The mere thought of you having to marry made Lucerys jealous, but in reality, deep down inside, he knew he already had you all for himself.

“You should come visit me in Driftmark more often, my love.” he mumbled near your ear, pressing a loving kiss on your jawline. “We will certainly enjoy ourselves there, without any betrothed to possibly bother us.” in response, you weakly chuckled. Your private zone was already sore, with the sticky fluids remaining there and drying, nearly being able to stand due to the trembling in your legs. “Besides, in Driftmark...”

He stood silent for a moment, smiling to himself. Provoking a yelp to come from you and causing your eyes to widen, the Lord slided his hand once again under your dress, pressing his hand against your still moist and sore pussy, with two fingers nearly inside your entrance. “Ao jāhor gūrēñagon skorkydoso naejot kipagon nykeā drēje zaldrīzes. (You will learn how to ride a true dragon.)”

Your jaw dropped faintly in surprise, feeling your own cheeks boiling from the fluster of his words. Pressing his lips against your chin, you could see how he smirked. “In the morrow, you should be carrying my seed in your womb. And you can only imagine how badly that turns me on.” one last time, his green eyes pierced through your body, scanning you up and down. You were a true Valyrian delicacy he could taste for hours, everyday of his life. His hand suddenly appeared from under your dress, making you feel an empty sensation of being let down, and slowly walked towards where you had come from.

“I will see you very soon, my love. This is only the beginning.”

And he was right. What there was in between the two of you, that always remained there, was just starting to bloom and show it’s true colours. The ones that screamed to be released, knowing the mutual feelings.

♡ taglist : ♡

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flowerandblood · 10 months

Text

The Price of Dignity

[ dark academia • Aemond x rich • female ]

[ warnings: angst, violence, class inequalities ]

[ description: Aemond worked his whole life to get into the best university in the country. The class inequality he sees there strikes him, and the target of his hatred is a female classmate from his year, a rich girl from a wealthy family. However, it turns out that what was obvious to him is not so simple and he has to face the consequences of his own decisions. A lot of angst, bitchy, violent, mean Aemond. ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He very quickly came to terms with the fact that life is not fair. He understood this when he watched his mother, worried, choosing between buying him a new sweatshirt and buying him a new textbook for school, between paying the heating bills and a new bed so they wouldn't all have to fit into one with an old, yellow mattress.

They didn't starve, they didn't walk around dirty, their mother made sure they looked like decent people, however, they were always lacking things, always had too little money for something.

Although his mother worked two jobs at school, she didn't earn as much as his friend's mother, who bought her T-shirts with Disney cartoon characters, had a whole pencil case of glitter pens and expensive chocolate croissants for her second breakfast.

He envied her and one day, when she wasn't looking, he stole her pensieve and threw it in the rubbish. She cried all day because of this, the pencil case was eventually found, however, she didn't want it anymore because it stank.

The next day she came to school with a new pencil case, even prettier.

From then on he decided that whatever he did would not change anything, so he chose not to worry about it and to stay away from such people. He was repulsed by their feeling that they could look down on him, that they were proud to have new, fashionable things, as if there was any merit in it.

They just got it and he didn't.

Something that could not be bought was intelligence, and he did not lack it.

Therefore, he decided to concentrate on his studies, spending whole days in the school library, borrowing thick, worn-out books to take home, having no money to buy new ones in the bookshop. He set himself the goal of getting into a degree in classical literature at the best, most prestigious university in the country by virtue of his academic results, to win a scholarship.

His mother was horrified by the idea, having no clue how she would help him pay for his stay in the capital, where everything was several times more expensive than in their city.

Not wanting to burden her more, to her despair, after high school classes he would go to work for a friend who ran a car repair shop, working as his helper, every paycheck saved up for his plan.

He felt like he was obsessed with it and did not accept the possibility that he might not succeed.

When applying for a scholarship, in addition to a written essay of at least a hundred pages about his favourite author, he had to appear in person for an interview.

Specially for this occasion, he bought himself an expensive shirt, smart trousers and a suit jacket for the first time and, dressed like this, went there with a beating heart.

The professors sitting in front of him seemed tired and weary of their work, sipping tea from beautiful, surely very expensive, porcelain cups. He looked at them trying to hide the disgust on his face, listening to their questions, which turned out to be trivially easy.

He saw how he was arousing their interest more and more with every minute with his attitude, they started asking him about his life, where he came from.

He sold them the heart-wrenching story of his childhood, the tale of his accident involving his nephew, through which he lost his eye, and then his slow road to the top, presenting himself as a young boy with dreams who had worked so hard for his success.

To his surprise it worked, and after a week he received a letter confirming that he had been awarded a scholarship and a place on his dream faculty.

He cried like a baby reading it several times, glad that no one was home at the time, feeling that he had finally managed to win something for himself in his life.

His mother burst with pride when she found out, while at the same time fearing how he would cope in this group, full of aristocrats and children of rich parents who could afford to simply buy them a place there.

He figured he would destroy them all, show them for who they really were.

He felt within himself some great need for revenge and atonement, although he did not know quite how he was supposed to express it.

He spotted his perfect target at the first meeting of his year with the professor who was to be their mentor during their stay at the University.

Despite the fact that they were all sitting in the same elegant uniforms with the intricate gold crest of their university, he saw that she was holding the latest model of phone in her hands, a beautiful gold ring with a sapphire on her middle finger and an old, expensive watch, surely inherited from some very wealthy and famous great-grandfather.

It came to his ears very quickly that her surname, Howard, was due to her grandfather on her father's side, the baron who had been given that title, which her family had boasted of ever since, living in their mansion in a village near the capital.

He looked at her and thought only of the fact that she was a fucking nepotistic, spoilt brat who never had to earn anything, who was taking the place of someone who really deserved it.

He very quickly caught a good rapport with a boy similar to himself, also from a small town from a working-class family, Criston. Like him, he owed his place to his education and scholarship, although he was not as harsh as he was in his assessment of their new friend.

"Oh, come on. Just concentrate on being content that you're here." He said one evening as they prepared for their first classes together. They were sitting in large, comfortable armchairs by the fireplace in the university's huge library filled with old, oak bookcases reaching the ceiling, filled to the brim with thick, dusty tomes.

He instantly fell in love with the place and only dreamed of spending whole evenings there, imagining how other students, writers and poets sat in his place. He hummed at his words, turning the page of the book he had just read, a history of ancient Greek literature.

"I'm concentrating on this, but when I look at her, I just feel sick. She's only here so her daddy baron can show off his daughter at the University. I have no respect for her and don't think she deserves any. The fact that she is here is a joke and one big misunderstanding." He muttered lowly, Criston sighed heavily, shaking his head, not having the strength to argue with him.

They both flinched when they heard someone's quiet footsteps, the figure of Howard appeared from among the bookcases with several books clutched to her chest and headed immediately for her entrance, her face pale, her lips clenched.

He swallowed loudly, feeling the cold sweat on his back at the thought that she had heard it all, and although he thought it was good for her that he had told the truth out loud, a sense of shame overcame him anyway.

Criston threw him a confused, horrified look and he lowered his gaze and grunted, letting out a loud breath, returning to his reading, recognising that the words of someone like him were meaningless to her anyway.

The next day was their first class with Professor Morris, in which they were to study Greek literature of the Classical, Hellenistic and Empire eras. Their professor, a short, smiling old man with big glasses, spoke with enthusiasm and energy surprisingly high for his age, introducing them to the subject and telling them what they would be working on first.

He said they would start with something simple, a collection of myths that, although passed down through generations and written down very late in history, were a source of inspiration that still stirred the minds of young artists and writers today.

He began with a question about who the Greek gods were in Greek mythology, Howard's hand shot up before he could think of anything.

"As far as the Olympian gods are concerned, they were imagined as humans, or rather the inhabitants of Hellada with the difference that they were immortal by drinking ambrosia and had various powers." She said quickly, their professor nodding at her words.

"That is true, Miss Howard. Why were they imagined as human beings and not, like the Christian God, as a superior, infallible entity?"

Howard's hand shot up again and he pressed his lips together, looking at her impatiently.

Stupid bitch.

"Because they were supposed to be the answer to what was happening around the living population, they were not the determinant of moral values, like the Christian God, but more like guardians whose care had to be constantly sought.

They loved and hated like ordinary people, they were eager for revenge, murder and rape, so they did not represent a pattern of behaviour, but rather depicted the unpredictability of nature and events in human life." She said without stammering, and he let out a loud breath, impatient.

She was doing this on purpose.

She wanted to prove him wrong.

He spent whole evenings reading and preparing for class and in the days that followed, he began to overtake her, watching with satisfaction as she turned to him over her shoulder with furrowed brows, impatient when it was him that their professor allowed to speak and not her.

They were at war.

He saw that she had her two friends with whom she went everywhere, naive girls from good homes who clung to her to wallow in her luxuries.

He felt like laughing at this sight.

He had the feeling that it was getting worse by the week, they were throwing hateful glances at each other in the corridors and shunning each other in the common rooms and the library, not wanting to bump into each other by accident.

He knew she was doing this to prove him wrong, to make herself feel the best again rather than because she was interested in literature.

After the first exams they both had very similar scores, but he felt a sense of pride when he saw on the posted list that he had scored one point more than her, a grimace of satisfaction showed on his face as he glanced in her direction indulgently.

Even though she had second place right after him she turned and walked towards the women's dormitory, clearly frustrated, making him feel better for the day.

And that's when he appeared.

Ronald Collins, a blushing man with slight curves, looking as if he was living in some sort of dreamy state had been introduced to them in class with their tutor and it appeared that he would be joining them mid-year.

No one understood how he managed to achieve this, he didn't look like a wealthy man, he smiled at everyone as if he were a priest at a sermon, with tenderness and care, as if he lived in a completely different reality. He and Criston would sometimes see him sitting on the cloisters with a notebook in his hand, gesticulating and talking to himself as if he were some inspired 19th century poet.

"What the fuck is his problem?" He muttered to Cole, recognising that this man was out of his mind.

In their first class together, however, he proved to them that he was something far more dangerous.

"Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet. Trash and kitsch, or sincere, sudden, fiery true love? There are different thoughts about this world-famous work today. What is your opinion?"

He and Howard automatically raised their hand, but Collins preceded them. The professor allowed him to speak first and, to everyone's surprise, he stood up, looking around the room.

"Pontius Pilate asked Christ - what is truth? But I ask you - what is love?! Is there only one kind of love? When we truly love, can we be so desperate as to reach for the finality, for death itself?" He asked, stretching his hand out in front of him, sweeping it in a semi-circle as if he was showing something, a few people couldn't stand it and laughed under their breath, Howard turned to him over her shoulder, looking at him with big eyes in disbelief, and he looked at her feeling that he looked exactly like her.

What the fuck was that supposed to be?

He bullshitted his way through the next five minutes until their professor decided he'd had enough.

However, what horrified him the most was the results of his first exam, which he saw on a list posted for all students outside the room.

100/100 points Mr Collins 94/100 points Mr Targaryen 94/100 points Miss Howard

What?

"What?!" He heard a familiar voice beside him, Howard stepped closer to the glass as if she couldn't believe her eyes.

She threw him a quick, helpless look as if she wanted him to tell her what had just happened here, but he himself had no idea how that was possible.

How could this fucking moron get such a good score?

"Ah, my sweet rivals!" They heard a voice behind them and turned around, Collins was looking contentedly at his score from over their shoulders, blushing, smiling and dreamy as usual, he could see from so close up that despite his young age he was slowly starting to go bald.

"Miss Howard and Mr Targaryen, the age-old battle between the aristocracy and the working class. So dramatic, solemn, full of contradictions. Love - hate - or perhaps cold calculation? Like Athena and Arachne, like Aphrodite and Persephone, like Achilles and Hector!" He said grabbing Howard's arm and she shook her head, completely surprised, not believing that he dared to say such things out loud.

"− Achilles and Hector didn't −" She began, but he interrupted her, looking up, as if suddenly dazzled.

"− no − Romeo and Juliet − separated lovers − they don't even know yet that tragedy awaits them, that they will not be given the chance to be reunited − but nevertheless this feeling, this will to fight will always prevail." He said worriedly and shook her, as if he wanted to make her realise how serious his prophetic words were, and then he left, wishing them a good day.

They stood horrified, he saw her look at her arms, as if she might have been contaminated by him just a moment ago.

"− oh God −" She muttered, lowering her hands without strength. "− he's an idiot −"

Their war was put on hold as they were forced to turn their gazes to a new enemy, more dangerous and more unpredictable, turning their joint lectures into a nightmare, for some reason having perfect scores on all their exams.

How was it possible that he was always a few points short and he passed everything with the highest score?

He decided to hide in the library as usual, tired and frustrated, and clenched his eyes when he saw that in his armchair, hidden between a few bookcases so that he couldn't be seen from a distance, sat Howard, reading a book even though it was his favourite place and she knew it perfectly well.

"Get the fuck out." He said to her straight out, towering over her with an angry look. She furrowed her brow and pressed her lips together.

"No. That moron is still after me, and he won't find me here. I was here first." She said angrily and turned the page with a quick, theatrical gesture.

He leaned over her resting his hands on either side of her body on the armrests of her armchair, looking at her face from so close that the tips of their noses were almost touching.

"Get. The fuck. Out." He hissed low.

"Fuck. No." She hissed parroting his tone, he grabbed her hard by her arm, trying to pull her out of there, but she immediately lifted her leg and kicked him in the stomach.

He bent down and growled, grabbing her ankle.

"You little spoiled bitch." He snorted, pulling her so that she just fell off the armchair, ignoring the fact that it made her skirt roll up and he could almost see her panties. "You think if your daddy pays for your studies, you're allowed everything?"

In response, he was hit on the head with the book she had just been reading, grabbed his forehead and shouted in pain, closing his eyes.

"Fuck off! I'm studying here as hard as you are!" She snarled furiously, wanting to throw the other book at him, but he grabbed her arms and blocked her movements. They were both panting loudly fighting each other, she tried to hit him with her knee, but he pinned her down with his body.

"Yeah? Oh what a poor girl. She studies as hard as I do. She never had to earn anything, she didn't have to work for long fucking hours after school, studying late to earn a living here, she didn't have to write a 100-page essay to get here, beg the university authorities to give her a scholarship." He hissed out looking at her with hatred, not letting her get away, feeling that he was just pouring out everything he had felt over the years, all the loathing he had for her and people like her.

She stopped fighting him and pressed her lips together, her eyebrows at the same time furrowed in a grimace of pain and sadness, her lower lip began to tremble at his words, her eyes turned red and glazed over from tears.

"Oh, are you going to cry? Are you going to fucking cry now? The poor rich little girl is going to cry because she heard a few words of truth?" He asked in a mocking, sweet voice as if he was speaking to a small child who still doesn't understand much and needs to be explained slowly.

"Fuck off." She exhaled with difficulty, already with less certainty, trying to push him away but to no avail, his hands clenched tighter on her shoulders, her body pressed against the armchair so that she was unable to make any movement, her cheeks red with exertion.

"You're not so snarky anymore? Well, please tell me, how did you earn your place here? Let me guess, you told your daddy - daddy, I would like to study here - will you pay my tuition fees? Hm? Is that how it was? I know, you worked so terribly hard for it." He sneered, arching his eyebrows in a gesture as if he really felt sorry for her, and she burst out crying, looking up at him from below, breathing hard.

"− I wanted to study here because I'm interested in literature, and my dad helped me − what the fuck is your problem? −" She mumbled out almost choking, and he clenched his jaw, his nostrils moving restlessly in rage.

"− my problem is that you've taken the place of someone who's worked all their life for it − some poor boy or girl who didn't have your father's money − the university authorities prefer your money to their knowledge −"

"− then why don't you go and yell at the rector for it? − won't you go to the dean and name some person to take my place, tell them that they are only after my money? − I'll tell you why − thanks to my father's money you can be here for free − thanks to my father's money you'll be able to do your PhD and do your research −" She laughed desperately through her tears, looking at him in disbelief, seeing him turn pale, his lower lip trembling in rage.

"− you didn't know? − you thought our country was paying for your place here, your uniform, your room? − no − but you're right about one thing − you've earned this place harder than I have −" She said emotionlessly, looking at him with a blank stare, and he felt unable to get a word out, his throat tightened, he felt like he was about to vomit, humiliation and rage spreading through his body.

"− you don't know anything about me − you've been insulting me ever since you got here, even though I'm the one you feel sorry for, you're the one carrying yourself like a king, looking down on everyone − and I thought that maybe things would get better, that maybe we'd even become friends − you're a mere brutal boor who thinks he can take it out on whoever he wants −" She hissed, pushing him away from her, he stepped back, turning his head away, not looking at her as she picked up her book from the floor and moved ahead, disappearing around the corner.

He slid his back down the bookcase and sat on the floor, burying his face in his hands, feeling that he was trembling all over.

You're a mere brutal boor who thinks he can take it out on whoever he wants.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

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kazz-brekker · 2 years

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hotd episode 6 thoughts

ohhhh the family drama in this one was DELICIOUS, i enjoyed it very much.

i will admit i found the time skip a little jarring at first even though i knew it was coming, just because so much stuff happened during those years, but emma d’arcy and olivia cooke were absolutely SERVING and i loved them.

rhaenyra with her kids … rhaenyra obviously loving them so so much … rhaenyra smiling as soon as she saw baby joffrey … oh it was a lot.

as soon as older rhaenyra said “fuck” while climbing the stairs i was like. yes. absolutely. i love you, this is perfect casting.

i have been overly invested in daemon and rhaenyra’s children ever since reading f&b so i feel pretty emotional actually seeing jace, luke, joffrey, rhaena, and baela on my tv screen. they’re real! they’re little and squishy! i want desperately to protect them!

i’m really glad that they included alicent’s “do keep trying, sooner or later you may get one that looks like you” bit, it’s such an iconic line of bitchy dialogue.

i SO wish that we had gotten to see more of the relationship between rhaenyra and harwin (they didn’t even kiss!) but the little bits that we did see of it were really tender and lovely, especially with baby joffrey.

helaena targaryen being a weird little girl with a bug collection is something that can be so personal, actually.

also, her saying something like “you’ll have to close an eye” while aemond is talking to alicent about wanting a dragon … please oh PLEASE let helaena have prophetic dreams, that would be great.

i am aware that aemond targaryen is going to grow up to commit a ton of war crimes but honestly i just wanted to give him a hug in this episode.

alicent being constantly exasperated that her children are growing up to be a bunch of absolute weirdos was really, really funny.

we finally got to see vhagar! she is so large and so ugly and i love her very much and seeing her fly with caraxes was a lot of fun.

i’m really sad that we only got to see adult laena for one episode, she was so regal and self-possessed and i really liked her interactions with her daughters and the fact that she clearly doesn’t want to indulge daemon’s sulking.

the implication that daemon stayed away from westeros for 10 years because he couldn’t stand to be around rhaenyra when they were married to other people … oh man. oh boy. that is so much. can’t deal with this right now, sorry!

alicent and criston having a weird warped version of fealty and courtly love based on their shared hatred of the same person … yesssss i love it give me more.

harwin strong in his dilf era repeatedly punching criston cole in the face is literally everything i wanted to see from him in this episode.

viserys talking about the bonds of friendship being forged through combat together while aegon ii is beating up his nephews is just like. jesus christ. viserys please learn to read the room.

alicent and larys having their scheming little dinner together was so fun, especially since it’s clearly a common practice. seems like larys is going full-on villain and that’s going to be entertaining to watch.

kind of sad to see that daemon and rhaenyra’s marriages are both breaking down, but i can understand why since there are a lot of stressors in both of those relationships.

around halfway through this episode i was like “there seems to be a lot going on here, maybe i won’t have to watch harwin and laena die yet” so the last 10 minutes absolutely sucker-punched me.

rip lyonel strong you were a real one and possibly the only man in westeros with both honor and common sense.

i am not quite sure how i feel about laena’s death, i always thought childbirth was a lazy way to get rid of her and i can see that they were trying to add more dignity/autonomy but it also made it more violent … i’ll have to think on it.

the milf on milf violence in this was just really fun and i can’t wait to see more.

i am READY for the funeral drama next week, bring it on!

#pie says stuff #pie watches hotd #hotd #hotd spoilers #house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #harwin strong #laena velaryon #aemond targaryen #helaena targaryen #larys strong #aegon ii targaryen

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oneatlatime · 8 months

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The Crossroads of Destiny

Strap in folks it's finally finale time!

I'm getting a bad feeling from the 'previously on' segment.

*gasp* Song's bird horse!?!?!

Toph gets some serious speed with that earth tongue walking.

Ty Lee's flattery gets less and less subtle. I get the feeling that a lot of Azula's more worrying tendencies could have been curtailed if someone had stuck her on stage as a child.

Is Zuko taller?

The cuts between these scenes are getting ridiculous. Some of these scenes are maybe 15 seconds long.

Zuko knows what's up. He and Iroh have teamed up on that particular fire breathing party trick before.

"It's time I face Azula." Buddy. No.

"You're so dramatic." POT. KETTLE. BLACK.

The last time Iroh and the Aang Gang teamed up, it was also against Azula. She has a way of uniting enemies.

The longer I stare at this the more I giggle.

"Good inside him isn't enough. Why don't you come back when it's outside him too, ok?" Congratulations to Sokka for articulating one of the fundamental human truths. Intentions can go take a hike when all that's visible are actions.

I love that! Iroh says he brought someone along in a tone that very much implies that he asked for help from a friend! Then you go outside and see he kidnapped a dude! And then they just leave him there!

I see your fake meditation. No one as rotten inside as this guy actually meditates properly.

The Dai Li be like

Katara? Why are you ripping into Zuko? Why is Season one bitchy Katara back? I don't want season 1 bitchy Katara to come back.

"No offence." "None taken." Iroh loves his nephew, but Iroh knows his nephew.

The one time Iroh's advice is explicitly solicited is the one time his advice is corny crap. That sucks.

Ba Sing Se is a tel? That's neat.

Hey Toph? Now would be a great time for that new metal bending trick of yours.

Avatar inadvertently validating my fear of subway grates.

I know this is life or death serious and all, but isn't the Sokka and Ty Lee dynamic cute?

MOMO!

This episode's thesis statement boils down to "what happens when you cancel arts programs and theatre kids don't get a chance to monologue in controlled conditions."

Honest question: Is Azula actually so deluded to believe that Divine Right of Kings crap she just spouted, or is she saying what the Dai Li needs to hear to side with her? Usually I think everything out of Azula's mouth is a calculated statement for manipulating others, but the way the show framed that monologue makes me think she actually believes what she's saying.

This conversation between Katara and Zuko, aside from showing that Katara is as capable as Sokka at sticking her foot in her mouth, is actually showing Zuko's growth well. So many of the things that he waves away with an "it's ok" are things that would have made him explode back in season one. It's about time he redefined that scar of his too.

"Aang! I knew you'd come!" "Uncle! The fuck?" Zuko truly has a way with words.

Hey Iroh maybe save your heart to heart until after you've exited the prison?

Wait so this episode is named after Zuko's arc? It's Zuko's destiny this finale is dealing with? Poor Aang's not even the main character in his eponymous show's season finale? Dang.

What was I saying about waiting to chat until you're outside the prison?

So every word out of Azula's mouth here is definitely a lie. She doesn't need Zuko at all. She's got a whole army and already has possession of the throne. What does she need with someone she considers to be an inferior firebender?

Father's love? That guy who burns off faces? The audacity.

"You are free to choose." Is it really freedom of choice if choosing the answer Azula doesn't want to hear ends with Zuko in a crystal cage?

Gotta say I'm intrigued by how quiet Zuko's being for this whole episode. Compare it to the volume of his confrontation with Azula at the Spa place at the beginning of the season.

This is so awful. This is so skin crawly. This is so going to end badly.

Toph can turn doors into ping pong balls. I like that. And what does she need Sokka scouting for Dai Li agents for? She can sense people for miles.

I love the line read on the "I'm not leaving without Bosco!" But does this guy really think he's in a position to make demands, after all the stuff he's ruined in the last, what, two days?

This is a cool move. Full body air bitchslap.

Katara cut her hair! That's kind of like what she did to Pakku with the ice disks.

How has no one been knocked out yet? Everyone in this fight should have at least 5 concussions by now.

I don't know what to make of it, but when Zuko says "I have changed" he sounds more calm and confident than he has all season.

I love the dynamic between Sokka & Toph and Mai & Ty Lee. Everyone involved knows they're second string and no one's really that invested. So they're all kind of chill.

I don't know what's going on in this fight, but Zuko is far too talented and Katara and Aang are both going down too easily.

And this right here is why this fight is only going to end badly for Aang. As soon as Azula's tired of playing, she'll call in reinforcements. Aang doesn't have those.

I hate Azula so much, which means I'm very annoyed to say that she and Zuko actually make a good fighting team. Did they practice drills together or something back in the day? They way they tag out and back in, and exchange fights, flows so well.

Jesus

Crap ok

She nerfed him in the power up sequence! That's not allowed!

So help me god if the writers hook these two up after pulling this crap I will riot.

Iroh could have been helpful if he'd been there earlier. Guess it takes a while to break out of crystals. Although I do like the detail that he stops fighting as soon as Aang and Katara are out & safe.

I was wondering why the magic water was randomly brought up earlier after disappearing for the entire season. I figured it had been lost in the desert with the rest of the stuff on Appa's saddle.

I'm so sorry, but the way Aang's arrow flashes once to confirm that Katara's saved him makes him look like an external USB device confirming successful connection.

I'm loving how immediate the regret from Zuko is. Proof that he has learned over the last two seasons.

"The Earth Kingdom... has fallen." AND WHOSE FAULT IS THAT? This King rubs me the wrong way. Consistently.

I'm fascinated by the fact that they managed to securely transport a bear on Appa's back.

Final Thoughts

Poor Aang has been demoted to secondary character in his own show. This finale was all Fire Nation.

Well done Azula. No matter which way you look at it, she won. If Azula was the main character, this episode would be the crowning glory series finale.

Sokka and Toph spent the whole episode running around putting out fires, only for five more to spring up in their place. I honestly don't know how they and Appa reconnected with the rest of the Gaang to fly out at the end. There's this feeling the whole episode of being consistently one too many steps behind, and I think it's most obvious in their incessant side quests.

Poor Katara went through about seventy billion emotions this episode. I take back my anger at her bitchiness. She deserved a vent session, although I don't think Zuko quite deserved to be the recipient of it. But he took it well.

Congratulations to Zuko for falling backwards into the only right choice for all the wrong reasons. This episode was only going to end with Azula victorious. She recruited an army and successfully executed a coup without breaking a sweat - that is not a level of enemy that Aang and friends has ever faced before, and not one they can realistically win against. Like with Long Feng, this is not a threat you can hit. You can't bend at ideologies and loyalties.

Zuko was going to end this episode siding with the Fire Nation as a free man, or in Fire Nation custody. This way, someone with an actual semi-functioning conscience now has access to the upper levels of the Fire Nation. This could be really interesting.

To be clear, I fully believe that Zuko chose to side with Azula because he swallowed her offer hook, line & sinker. For the guy who invented "Azula always lies" he sure does fall for her lies a lot, especially when she's saying exactly what he wants to hear. I believe Zuko believed her about getting his honour back bla bla bla, chose to follow her because of that belief, and has already realised at least some of what she said was lies by the end of the episode. Which is promising! It looks like there's potential for a Zuko mole next season!

I'm worried for Iroh. Firelords who burn their children's faces off with no shame don't strike me as the type to shy away from executing their brothers.

The Aang fakeout death at the end was not remotely believable unfortunately, mostly because kids' cartoons don't ever pull a Psycho and kill the nominal main character half way through. It probably would have freaked me out if I'd seen this episode as a kid though.

Azula hitting Aang during his power up sequence was inspired. A very well done subversion of expectations, which finally validates my frustrations with the concept of power up sequences in general. Few things bug me more than the mooks politely waiting their turn while the good guy does a quick wardrobe change.

So... is the war over? The Earth Kingdom's fallen, the Southern Water Tribe have been functionally out of the game for a while now. There's only the Northern Water Tribe left, which are only still standing because of a Hail Mary that I very much doubt Aang can pull off twice. So is next season's focus going to be defending the Northern Water Tribe from a final Fire Nation push? I think that's the only place that isn't conquered by the Fire Nation in name at least. On the bright side, this means the Gaang won't be returning to Ba Sing Se. Good riddance. I hate that place.

I've never seen a show with a finale that focuses so intensely on the conflict of someone other than the main character. I don't really know what to make of this episode. I think I liked the one before it better. To be clear, everything that happened made sense - characters were in character, events unfolded as expected (if you handwave an elite force of earthbenders preferring a 14 year old over their seasoned leader), but something about this episode is just a bit boring to me. Maybe they telegraphed it too hard in the previous episodes? I don't know. I'll have to chew on this one a bit.

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #the crossroads of destiny #a resounding meh

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splint-er-exe · 3 months

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Fireheart is NOT winning any parenting awards in "Rising Storm". Stop being so bitchy to your nephew/son bro it's not charming 😔 whole ass deputy beefing with his own apprentice how humiliating

#i still love u tho Fireheart #i forgive u <3 #warrior cats #erin hunter warriors #fireheart #cloudkit #cloudpaw #rising storm #my thoughts

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a-hobit · 2 years

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Hunter would 10000% tear Bosha a new one if she started her bullshit after they’re all back in school. Oh he’s sweet but the second you disrespect his captain? It’s all back to the bitchy high and mighty “head of a coven” “Nephew of the emperor” “who tf do you think you’re talking to???” and he’s not holding back lmfaoooo

#i’m obsessed with huntlow i’m sorry #huntlow #hunter x willow #willow x hunter #Hunter toh #Willow toh

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writingsofwesteros · 7 months

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Rhaenyra’s daughter obeys the letter her mother sent and travels to king’s landing. She hasn’t been since she was a girl. And it looks so different to her. Odd…. Especially with how many Gold Cloaks patrol it. When she enters the keep she isn’t greeted by the Queen, or her mother. Instead she finds Helaena. Helaena says few words but she’s pleased to see her.

The girl does wonder where her mother is though…. And where Helaena’s sister, her other aunt can be found. And the Queen!

She also wonders why Daemon is the one she’s taken to meet. He sits in a chair, with his Gold Cloaks standing by him, telling her she is most welcome. She thanks him and asks why her mother isn’t present. He assures her that she’ll see her later when she settles. And just to enjoy herself for now. Odd wording but she curtsies and turns to leave. When she almost runs smack into someone’s chest.

“Oh nephew, did I mention who arrived?”

She looks up to see Aemond staring down at her intensely. She shivers and backs up a little. Daemon says isn’t it pleasant that she’s here? It’s been so long. Aemond nods stiffly. His eye still piercing her. She finds a way to excuse herself and get away. Her brother had told her how terrifying he was. He’s gotten tall. His features so sharp and severe. And that gaze…. She felt as if he was trying to see right through her.

Eventually she begins to wonder why she hasn’t seen many of the royals. Where they could possibly be. And so she decides to just find them herself. Oh would she come to regret it….

As she walks through the halls she hears strange noises. And a voice.

“Mother?”

She walks towards it. It seems to be coming from Aegon’s chambers. What would her mother be doing there. She opens the door just slightly. And almost faints at the sight she sees. Her lady mother, stripped naked and bound, legs in the air and Aegon between them, thrusting like a madman.

Rhaenyra is gasping and moaning and occasionally she begs him to cease. But the begging just spurts Aegon on.

“All my damn life, you were father’s favorite huh? Perfect Rhaenyra can do no wrong.” He slaps one of her tits. Making her cry out. And gives a hard thrust for good measure. “Who’s perfect now? You desperate whore. You’re clenching my cock like you enjoy this. You like men locking you in their chambers and having their way with you, don’t you slut?”

“P-Please Aegon not- ooh! Don’t… you can’t… it’s been d-days no more- hah!”

Aegon pouts angrily and bites her breasts. Thrusting hard, as if he’s trying to stab her through her cunt with his cock.

“Don’t be a lying bitch. You’re better this way. Having all those brown haired bastards. Who knows if Harwin fathered them all? You probably spread yourself for the whole Strong house you slut.” He slaps her other breast and begins rubbing her clit. “Did he fuck you like this? Did he tie you down and use your cunt proud bitchy cunt?” Rhaenyra gasps and shudders. “Clearly not well enough.” Aegon smirks.

He wraps his arms around her and leans into her, his face on her breasts. “Take it you whore! This is all you’re good for! Perfect Rhaenyra perfectly taking cock! You still have a working womb, don’t you slut? You’re gonna have more bastards. Proper white haired ones. Let’s see how perfect you are then!”

Rhaenyra’s daughter slowly backs away in horror. Partly at Aegon’s words and actions. But also at seeing the way her mother has began to react. No! No she can’t be enjoying it, it’s by force! She must find the queen! She’ll put Aegon in line. She runs to the Queens chambers and bursts in. Only to find another shocking sight.

Queen Alicent completely naked and surrounded by gold cloaks, eagerly pleasuring them in any way she can.

“See something you like, do you?” One of the guards laughs at her. She slams the door and runs. The Queen now too?! What is happening here! Maybe… Daemon! She met with Daemon earlier. She’ll tell him his guards took advantage of the Queen just as Aegon did Rhaenyra. She can’t believe Daemon is looking like the voice of reason.

Oh what a mistake that is.

The door isn’t even locked. So she bursts in. Foolishly. And gets her third shock of the night.

Daemon in bed with her aunt. The princess. Fucking her eagerly from behind as she moans and clutches the sheets as if she’s never felt anything so good. Rhaenyra’s daughter even sees in shock…. Her breasts have grown, and when Daemon squeezes them, she swears a little milk comes. And her belly is swollen near to bursting. Her aunt is with child?

And being fucked by Daemon!

“Ah, need something?” Daemon asks. “If you need my help you’ll have to ask later, I’m in the middle of someone right now.”

She stammers and slowly backs up, asking what he’s done.

“Oh me? I knocked up the Princess, and then broke her in. She knows you’re here and knows who you are. It’s just my cock is more important to her. She’s so soon to have my bastard, seems she’s gotten extra sensitive. Needs so much attention. You’ve come here at the perfect time, you and Helaena can attend her.”

He hold the hips of the princess and gives her ass a slap. “Of course I’ll need more bastards from her…. Many more.” He purrs.

Rhaenyra’s daughter runs for it. She doesn’t understand what’s happening. Are all the women in the keep cock slaves now? Not Helaena surely. So it’s Helaena she’ll run to.

It’s been years though. And her grasp of the locations of rooms here has slipped. Or the map given to her was wrong….

She bursts into a room, still wearing her nightgown, sees a silhouette and immediately falls to her knees before them, telling them everything. But the silhouette remains silent. She feels a hand on her head. That isn’t Helaena’s hand. She looks up, and is once again met by the piercing gaze of Aemond. He stands up and she’s now on her back as he looks down at her.

“U-Uncle….” She shivers. But then she gasps. He isn’t wearing much clothing. It’s late at night she realizes that. But through the clothing she sees it. And she knows what it means. His cock is hard. Painfully hard. She doesn’t move as he takes it out and she almost gasps. It’s quite intimidating. Just like the rest of him. He often looks so composed but for once she swears he looks…. Desperate. Like he’s been eager for so long with no satisfaction.

She crawls away slightly. But he moves quick and tears her nightgown away.

“Every damn night…. I hear them. Every damn day… he rubs my sister’s belly as if that’s some accomplishment.” Aemond growls. “Any man could have a bastard. See a lady…. swollen with his child…. Have her body be fully his….”

As he speaks, Rhaenyra’s daughter notices his cock twitch. Is he…. Desiring that?

Aemond grabs her hands and positions himself between her legs. He says he’ll just have one go…. He can allow himself to slip up once…. She’s already a bastard. No one will notice if her maidenhead is gone.

Before she can protest, suddenly he pushes his cock inside her. She gasps and throws her head back. He can go deep. And he stretches her in ways she’s never been stretched. She feels so painfully full of her uncle’s cock. Wait her uncle’s….

She looks up at him in shock to protest, but suddenly he’s moving his hips and the only thing coming from her mouth are gasps and cries. He thrusts hard and desperately, but he angles purposely to hit a spot that makes her dizzy. She tries to protest.

“U-Uncle please… take it out… y-you’re splitting me apart! T-Take it out! Not- not there! Please uncle don’t- ah!”

Her begging oddly spurs him on, and he groans and grabs her hips fucking hard into her. Enthusiastically ruining her virtue.

“Oh seven hells, your bastard cunt is squeezing me so tight niece! Trying to milk my cock already?”

He smirks and pounds harder. If he’s throwing away self control then he’ll go all the way. Wrapping a hand around her neck and bracing her legs against his shoulders. The new angle makes her both squeal and cry in pain. She tries to move away but he seems to only use that to aid his thrusting.

Oh is this how her mother felt? The Queen? Did her aunt feel this way when Daemon stole her virtue, as he surely did. Would she be that soon? Swollen belly, eagerly moving her hips against Aemond as he ruts on her like a breeding bitch.

“U-Uncle!” She gasps. “Pull… pull out! Don’t spend yourself inside of me! We can’t! C-Can’t have… I’ll be with child, don’t!”

Those words were a terrible mistake. Sometimes awakes in Aemond. A gleam of purpose in his eye. And suddenly she’s clutched so tightly, her cunt aching from the aggressive assault as he shoves himself in and out even more eagerly with strength she didn’t know he had. She moans and cries and makes noises that might put whores to shame. He holds her down tightly as he presses insides. She feels him twitching in her poor sore cunt. And feels his seed seeping into her. It’s too late now.

She watches him slowly pull himself from her. Her cunt no doubt looking sore and broken to him. His cock slick with a little of her maiden’s blood, his seed, and shamefully, the signs of jet arousal. He grabs a handful of hair hair and pulls her close.

“Clean it, bastard slut.”

She’s forced to taste everything on his cock, her blood, his seed, her…. Shame. But he pulls her back suddenly. Telling her no no. He won’t be spending himself ANYWHERE else, until that womb is properly full. He lifts her and drops her on the bed. Much more comfortable than the floor he just took her on. But she sees him standing over her. An eager look in his eye. As his cock gets hard again.

It is days upon days that he takes her. She can’t count herself a maiden in any sense of the word soon. Her terrifying uncle seems so oddly eager to fill her with his seed. When he finishes he sometimes kisses her deeply, claiming her mouth too with his tongue just as eagerly and aggressively as he claims her cunt with his cock. Over and over. She does find herself bent over many times. Just like her aunt was. And just like Daemon was rutting at her aunt, so to is Aemond with her. She didn’t know how deep this position lets him go! She swears she can almost feel him right by her womb when he finishes. There’s no chance his sees is anywhere else. He’s very taken to squeezing her breasts and rubbing her belly.

Talking with more eagerness than she’s ever seen about how she’ll look when she’s full. Bred. Claimed. His.

Jace warned her about their uncle. Said he was mad. But oh god, she was never prepared for the cock he had! That damn thing she was becoming so accustomed to inside her…. How well it found the weakness in her womanly parts…. The painful feeling of his ravaging making her tingle inside.

One night finally Aemond gets up, pulls an old shirt of his on her and takes her with him. She’s still unsteady on her legs and a little hazy. Letting him lead her. Where he leads her, she sight shocks her. Queen Alicent surrounded by Gold Cloaks, currently fitting two at a time in her cunt and throwing her head back in pleasure while the others touch and toy with her body. Her mother Rhaenyra tied up and gagged while Aegon has the time of his life. Touching and degrading her however he sees fit. And at the head of the room…. Now she understands.

Daemon. Sitting on a chair as if it’s a throne. Bouncing her heavily pregnant and desperate aunt on his cock. He caused all this. But before she knows it she’s braced against a wall.

“I see you like my gift nephew.” Daemon smirks.

Alicent is too full to notice or care. Rhaenyra does see her and looks like she’s about to say something. Until Aegon forces her to orgasm and her eyes roll back, legs shaking. Her aunt only has eyes for Daemon, and whimpers and moans for more of his attention.

“Maybe soon…. You’ll have your own whore full of bastards.” Daemon rubs her aunt’s belly. “That’s what you want isn’t it nephew…. Give that bastard girl proper white haired babes. Right?”

He’s found Aemond’s weakness. And he eagerly takes out his cock and sheathes it in Rhaenyra’s daughter again. Holding her tight and dominating her mouth with his tongue as he does. The sight in this room shocked her. And Daemon all but said it… Aemond intends to see her pregnant. But that feels less important. All she can think of is the feeling as her uncle Aemond’s raw cock ravages her sore for the hundredth time since he took her maidenhead. Feeling his tongue in her mouth and his hand on her neck…..

She moans in his mouth as her eyes roll back and her legs shake, just as her mother’s did. Going over the edge and orgasming around his cock. Oh the poor girl. Tried so hard to resist her terrifying uncle. But her body betrays her now. Aemond can feel it and it fills him with an eager fire. Soon she’ll be as cockdrunk and desperate for him as his sister is for Daemon.

Perhaps Daemon’s rule isn’t so bad…..

ALL OF THIS! Poor thing just walking into the many depraved scenarios happening .

Aemond losing control would be so hot to see, like an animal rutting into his mate.

#adore you and this au #gold cloaks of lust #i wish i could add something to this masterpiece

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