#i forgot v was considered a queen

[nuvimuvi]

Vizzy

[queen-scribbles]

Some more of the new boy, in case I keep him which I probably will

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

Cherry Bomb

Sirius Black x f!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, oral (female receiving), soft!dom sirius, underage smoking, brief underage drinking, rough sex, pretty good sex imo, this all leads to a bigger plot i promise !!

summary: you’ve got a plan, and that plan starts with a simple shag with a simple man. sirius black.

word count: 1.6k

a/n: i used two beautiful prompts from this beautiful account @eloquentmoon and they are as followed.

11. “Louder, let me hear you”

28. “I want to have my way with you”

i listened to fat bottomed girls by queen during this and god did it help. anyway, enjoy :)

~~~

If boys could be considered easy, Sirius Black would be the easiest boy in all of Hogwarts. To shag Sirius Black, a girl only needs to meet a short list of requirements. One, she must be fit. Two, she must not be a virgin. And three by far the most important, she must be desperate for Sirius Black.

That’s why he was the first on the list. He was the easiest.

~~~

You stare in the mirror for a few seconds. Everything seems alright. Your dress is tight, your makeup is done, and most of all your plan is set. You turn to your friend and gesture to yourself.

“You’re stunning, as always. I don’t get why you’ve been insisting on doing this. What’s the goal?” Your friend says.

“Some fun I suppose.” You look at the clock on the dorm's wall. “I better be going, parties not going to last forever. Neither is Mr. Black’s smoke break.”

“Have a good time then.”

You grab your purse and start for the door. “Will do. See you tomorrow.”

After a few minutes of walking, you find Mr. Black exactly where you predicted him to be. He’s sitting on one of the benches, a cigarette between his lips. You casually step out into the moonlight, your hand rummaging through your purse. An unlit cigarette is held between two of your fingers, you make a sound of disapproval as you continue pretending to search your bag.

“All right there miss?”

You look up from your bag and shake your head. “Forgot my wand in my dorm.” You pretend to just notice the cigarette between his lips. “Mind helping a lady out with a smoke?”

“Why of course,” he answers. He gestures for you to come closer, and you gladly comply. “But I’m going to need your name first.”

“Why’s that? All I’m asking for is a quick light,” you reply.

He smirks. “If you know mine, I feel it’s only polite to know yours.”

“I don’t know yours, so we’re even. Anyway, how about that light now?”

Without another word, he pulls out his wand. You stick the cigarette between your lips and lean down. He’s surprised, you can tell from the way his eyes shift. Nevertheless, he lights the end of your cigarette. You lean back and take a long breath of smoke. It feels all too familiar in your lungs. You take a step back and pull the cigarette from your lips, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

“Y/n y/l/n.”

“Pardon?”

You look down at him. “My name, it’s y/n y/l/n. I’m from Ravenclaw, probably why you haven’t heard of me.”

“I’m Sirius Black from Gryffindor,” he replies.

“Ah Gryffindor, that’s where I’m heading actually. Heard there’s a big party up there, why aren’t you there?” You ask, sticking the cigarette between your lips again.

He shrugs. “Needed a small break. ‘Suppose it’s a good thing, right? Or else you wouldn’t have that precious fag between your lips. Perhaps it’s fate.”

“I don’t believe in that nonsense.” You pretend to check your watch. “Seems like the time is flying by. I’ve got to run before all the firewhiskey is gone.”

You drop your cigarette to the ground and smoosh it with your boot. When your eyes meet his again, you’re happy to see the slight shift. He’s curious, you can tell. Good. Curious is good. You give him a small smile.

“Nice to meet you Sirius Black from Gryffindor, ‘suppose I’ll see you up there, till then,” you say, giving him a small wink before turning on your heels and starting for the doors.

“Nice to meet you too Y/n y/l/n from Ravenclaw!” You hear him call from behind, but you don’t acknowledge it.

Phase one is done.

It’s almost an hour later when the second phase begins. You’re dancing to the beat of Queen’s newest hit, your hips swaying in a way you hope is entrancing. One or two shots of firewhiskey have been down your throat already, and you’re tempted to reach for a third, but that’s when you see him.

He’s across the room, his dark eyes practically glued to you. Despite how much you’ve planned this moment, you can’t help the butterflies that take over your stomach. Sirius Black, one of the most popular boys in the school, wants you. You lick your lips and watch as he lifts his hand, gesturing to you to go to him like he had earlier in the night.

You inhale one last breath before beginning the walk to him.

It’s the last time you’ll walk straight for a day or two.

And so, phase three begins.

~~~

You gasp as your face meets one of the pillows on his bed. You try to get back up on all fours, but it feels nearly impossible. With one of Sirius’s hands presses down on the small of your back, while the other grips one of your hips you’re lucky your legs haven’t given out yet. He fucks you relentlessly, and you’ve never loved anything more.

“Fuck Sirius,” you moan, you can’t catch your breath. Your orgasm is close. “Sirius.”

“Louder, let me hear you.” His voice is like music to your ears. “Let them all hear you love.”

“ ’M gonna cum Sirius,” you say, a bit louder than your previous words. “Fuck I’m so close please don’t stop.”

“Wasn’t planning to.”

You cum a few seconds later, your whole body shaking as you do. Sirius doesn’t falter for even a moment, making your orgasm ten times more pleasurable. When you’re done, he pulls out and flips you over onto your back. Your eyes meet and you almost audibly moan.

How could someone be so bloody handsome?

He lowers himself so he’s on top of you, his body held up by his two hands placed on either side of your head. You wrap your arms around him, and as he thrusts inside you once again, you let your nails drag down his back. He kisses your neck sloppily, causing you to whimper.

“Have you never been shagged properly?”

You can’t help the small laugh that leaves you. “I suppose not.”

“Something mustn’t be right because your pussy is by far one of the best I’ve ever had.” He presses himself so deep inside you, that you wince in pain. He’s reached your cervix. “So soft, so warm, so tight. In fact, I think I need a taste.”

He pulls out of you again and quickly kisses down your body, pausing only to suck hard on one of your nipples. After that, his tongue is on your stomach, your navel, your...

“Sirius, what are you-”

“I want to have my way with you.”

Your back arches as he begins to lick your clit. Your thighs clench around his head, and your hands move to his hair. You squeeze your eyes shut, the pleasure almost too much for you to handle. He eats you out as if he’s been starved his entire life. His lips and tongue are so soft, so warm. Your second orgasm comes far quicker than the first.

“Perfect taste.”

He begins to crawl up your body, his mouth shining with your cum. You don’t hold yourself back from kissing him, in fact, you’re the one who initiates it. You love the taste of yourself on his lips, it’s one of the most attractive things you’ve ever encountered.

After a minute or two you push him down onto the bed and crawl on top of him. From the way he’s grinning up at you, to the way his gorgeous hair is sprawled out on the mattress, you can’t help the words that slip from your mouth.

“None of the gossips ever mentioned how empowering it is to have the great Sirius Black underneath you.”

He raised a brow. “I thought you didn’t know who I am.”

“I uh...” You give him a small smile and begin to move your hips back and forth, his cock sliding between your incredibly wet folds. “I knew you didn’t know my name, so I pretended not to know yours. To make it even.”

It wasn’t a complete lie, but it also wasn’t the complete truth either.

Sirius’s eyes flutter shut, his hands moving to grip your hips. “I know your name now y/n y/l/n.”

“And you will remember it,” you reply. “Not like all those other girls whose names you forget the next morning.”

“Course not love.”

“It’s not a question.” You lift your hips and slowly begin to sink down on his cock. His fingers dig into your skin, you place your hands on his chest. “It’s a statement. I’m going to spell it out for you.”

You start to rock back and forth and up and down, just the way you know drives guys mad. Sirius is no different. Except, unlike the others, he doesn’t bother to hold back from moaning his approval. You lean down after a few minutes, so your lips are almost touching his ear, and with each movement of your hips, you say a letter of your name.

So, by the time you reach your third orgasm and Sirius reaches his first, your name is properly engraved in his head.

When everything is done and you’re both spent, he holds you in his arms. Your head rests on his chest, and you listen to his gentle heartbeat. The two of you share a cigarette in silence. It’s not uncomfortable in the slightest. Sirius Black has that effect on people.

As you stare at the wall you wonder how you’re supposed to move forward with the plan. You never expected such aftercare from the school player or such kindness during the shag. He’s a very giving lover, contrary to the popular belief that he’s simply another boy who enjoys using girls for his pleasure. You take one last long drag of the cigarette before handing it back to him and closing your eyes.

“I think I quite like you, y/n y/l/n,” he suddenly says, his voice barely above a whisper.

This plan might be harder than you thought.

[grecoromanyaoi]

helloo since we're on the topic: top historical fiction (or adjacent) ? can be any time period I just really love your taste in shows/games/etc and am always on the lookout for history inspired media !

thank you!!! im rly glad im like. inspiring other ppl to engage w things im insane abt hudofajsdfdassfsad. anyways. i will probably expand that list bc i literally forgot every single thing i ever read. also i havent watched that many movies so far

ancient times: i havent really watched a lot of movies/series set in ancient times so far :(

rome HBO (2005-2007) (tv series) - OF COURSE. i personally think its one of the best series ever made. they combine political, miliatry history with the lives of every day people in an incredible way. they never let you once engage with the series through modern lenses. according to my teacher (a historian, archeologist & self described 'romaphile') its incredibly historically accurate, mostly the clothing, set designs, characterization, military practices, etc. except for the things they straight up made up, of course.

i really enjoyed gladiator (2000), i think its a masterpiece.

prince of egypt (1998) i guess?

all the asterix movies of course, all the animated ones and most of the live actions. but i wouldnt really call it historical fiction

ok i havent actually finished watching it for now but sebastiane (1976) - an erotic, x rated, gay interpretation of the martyrdom of st sebastian. its in latin also.

wait i cant believe i forgor about assassin's creed odyssey - so far the only one ive played. its so fun and incredibly immersive visually. especially pour moi who cries into the pillow about how ill never experience the ancient world. also you can b a faggot which is always fun. i have things to say about their portrayal of same-sex sexuality and slavery in classical greece but i get why they did that considering its supposed to like. appeal to a lot of people, and a more "historically accurate" portrayal (for example of pederasty or how common slavery was etc.) would b v difficult for a lot of their target audience. alas.

medieval and early modern era:

the name of the rose (1986) - my medieval history teacher literally showed us bits of this movie to teach us about monasteries and monks fhdosiasdjasd.

the borgias (2011-2013) - incredibly messy, lots of political intrigue, and so so fun to watch. about the history of the borgia family. filled to the brim with drama.

the three musketeers (1993) - my favorite adaptation, also coincidentally the one i grew up on. casting tim curry as richelieu was genius. he slays so hard.

i also like bbc's the musketeers (2014-2016) - a neat little series. very fun and entertaining to watch.

outlaw king (2018) - like i dont think most ppl heard of this movie. its about robert the bruce's fight to reclaim the throne of scotland. starring chris pine

vikings (2013-2020) - its fun. i havent watched the entire series tho. dont expect anything resembling historical accuracy

the northman (2022) - you will see something resembling historical accuracy

mihai viteazul (michael the brave) (1971) - a fun movie. very much romanian propaganda tho.

1670 (2023-) - such a fun series!!! incredible cast, shows respect to the actual history and the lives of historical people. really cute and funny.

caravaggio (1986) - a biopic about caravaggio.

wait i also forgor about pentiment - an intriguing, immersive, and incredibly beautiful video game! it has a lot of 'the name of the rose' vibes, with it being a medieval murder mystery taking place in a monastery. its incredibly touching and made me cry, and in the last few years i very rarely cry. also im 99% sure its an indie game? go support the creators!

vaguely-medieval/early modern fantasy:

mirror mirror (2012) - a retelling of snow white. a very fun movie imo, with incredible costume design. julia roberts plays the evil queen and she SLAYS. armie hammer is unfortunately in that movie.

stardust (2007) - one of my fave movies growing up. more modern-inspired but still.

the green knight (2021) - controversial i know but i actually loved this movie! i liked it both as a standalone movie but moreso as a 21st century adaptation to sir gawain and the green knight.

galavant (2015-2016) - !!!!!!! one of the most series ever! they manage to tackle such difficult concepts and conversations with a hilarious wit. so fun to watch. i listen to a lot of the songs still, and rewatch every once in a while.

disenchantment (2018-2023) - very fun to watch, especially the first season.

i also really liked the novel uprooted by naomi novik. its a polish-inspired fantasy.

modern era:

killers of the flower moon (2023) - of course. a masterpiece

aferim! (2015) - a romanian movie set in 19th century wallachia, about two officers, a father and son, who were sent by a nobleman to retrieve an escaped enslaved romani man. a lot of the people in the comments were calling the movie humorous and funny, maybe im missing smth (as im watching with subtitles n dont understand the original language) but it was a very difficult watch for me??

the handmaiden (2016) - need i say more

black sails (2014-2017) - a prequel to the famous novel 'treasure island'. not an easy series to watch. incredibly good.

the favourite (2018) - need i say more pt 2

the rabbi's cat (le chat du rabbin) (2011) - animated movie set in early 20th century algeria. a rabbi's cat learns to talk overnight.

the nice guys (2016) - a fun murder mystery set in the 1970s

o brother, where art thou (2000) - a retelling of the odyssey set in the southern us in the 1930s

victor/victoria (1982) - set in early 20th century paris. julie andrews pretends to be a man and takes on a job as a drag queen. extremely fun, extremely gay movie.

lady chatterley's lover (2022) - very much porn for moms but it was a nice watch imo

amulet (2020) - set in like. idk. sometime in the 20th century. this is a horror movie, deals a lot with misogyny, sa, and so on. i really like it, personally. a lot of people, mostly weird men, dont tho.

the great (2020-2023) - i have mixed feelings about this show. on the one hand, its really fun to watch. on the other hand, its basically ofmd for girls who have public mental breakdowns whenever someone claims corsets were oppressive. and theyre so weird about russians, jesus christ.

disses:

domina (2021-) - i just couldnt get into it, esp since i tried right after finishing rome hbo. it was kind of silly, and not in a good way. takes itself wayyyy to seriously.

i didnt like spartacus (2010-2013) - the dialogue was almost grotesque and the editing, especially the transitions, straight up killed me

damsel (2024) - holy fuck what a trainwreck of a movie. absolute waste of angela basset and robin wright. the only good thing were the costumes.

lancelot du lac (1974) - i just didnt like it at all. couldnt get into it. i guess it was way too french and artsy fartsy for me. a movie that was trying to say both too little and too much at the same time.

i didnt rly like bram stoker's dracula (1992) - i mean. it was a fine movie. it was definitely not the godfather. the movie itself was meh. the visuals tho? absolutely stunning

[smolvenger]

The Battle of Agincourt (Henry V/fem! Reader Oneshot)

Word Count: 7K

Summary: As his wife and queen, you follow your husband, Henry the Fifth to France for his battles. It is the morning of the battle of Agincourt, and you don't know if he will make it out alive. You spend one last moment of passion together.

Warnings: NSFW 18+ SMUT! SMUT! (We get TWO smut scenes in one onshot! P in V sex, missionary, doggy style, edging, medieval dirty talk, praise, slight degradation and edging breast play, degradation, bits of power play, doing the deed standing up-legit one of the filthiest things I've written in a long time!). Mentions of war and brief mention of sexual assault and death. Lots of angst, but also some fluff.

A/N: Based off of a dream I had. Enjoy!

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over@fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract (you can just skip the wedding night and barn scene and you will be good, bestie) @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @infinitystoner@littlespaceyelf@superficialdomina @evelyn-kingsley @muddyorbsblr

You never forgot the day you were introduced to the man you loved.

You were sent there to the castle. An alliance between your father and the new king of England was being considered. Nothing confirmed, you were told by your father. Only consideration.

“He is a single man. And young. He needs more for his army, his lands…and that is secured with a marriage,” he told you.

 The one key to sealing it.

You.

A marriage between you and this king. Many men in his army sealed with one woman being brought to his bed. And it might be you.

 You had heard he was a wild boy, Harry Monmouth, Prince Hal. But everyone assured you that he had somehow matured. No sooner than his father died but he had been far calmer, more responsible. He spent his hours studying rather than drinking.

But you were still nervous. When the day arrived for this alliance to be discussed, your father asked you to dress in your best. Looking in the mirror as you squeezed your mother’s hand, you wondered; am I good enough for a king’s glance? Perhaps if you had more jewels and walked in with the richest silks like a shining diamond, then he would take note. Still, bedecked in your finery, you headed off and were greeted at the castle. You were stopped, awaiting the signal.

“If the king decides he would like to meet you…then be ready,” he warned.

It might not happen at all, you wondered.

You did hear voices outside the thick door. Seeping through. No doubt there would be advisors and other lords to talk to the king. But there was one voice-he sounded young, indeed. He had a resonant, powerful voice- rich and commanding. But smooth too. The sort to command a legion but could also whisper gentle words to his lover.

 As you stood, wondering how long you both could wait, the door opened, and you jumped.

“His Majesty, King Henry the Fifth, would like to meet you,” the servant announced.

Just for consideration. Nothing permanent. Not yet, you thought. You were grateful your dresses were long. They would hide your shaking legs. You nodded, remembering basic etiquette as you gripped your father’s arm.  

The door opened and you both walked inside, your steps echoing throughout the stone castle. You took in your surroundings despite the air in your lungs almost stopping. The high windows with the orange sunlight. The long candles for light. The weaving of Saint George on the back wall. A wooden throne with tall, stone steps. There, you saw your father. A few lords in the back-old men with scarves for hats and long cloaks.

And in the center of it, turning towards you, was a young man. A young man with a crown- Henry the Fifth. The young king.

Extremely handsome. A head full of his auburn curls, his small, neat beard. His blue eyes were soft when he looked at you and a red leather doublet framed his lean body well. There were chairs about and you were led to sit in a chair some distance away.

Your father and the king began to talk. Keeping an appropriate distance. But you couldn’t help but admire the handsome, young king. If he were just an ordinary man going down the street, you would have indulged in ogling him. But you could not, you felt yourself get warm as you kept your eyes demurely on the floor when he caught you watching. Their voices became murmurs. Then the king turned to you.  

“You are the Lady Y/N…” he began.

He gestured to you to rise from your chair, you gave him a curtsy.

“I am, your grace,” you replied.

He walked up closer. You could hear his footsteps. You made your own breath slower. You could feel yourself sweat like it was July in Italy. You forced your eyes down, feeling your shaking going to your hands.

“You need not be shy, my lady,” he said.

You then looked up. Eyes onto him.

“Could you take two steps closer, my lady?” he asked.

You did. He walked around you in a circle, seeing all of you. You let him, though your heart was roaring in your ears. Feeling his eyes all over his potential bride- you. Once he stepped out, completing his circle, your eyes met his. Perhaps that was bold, considering his position- your lord and sovereign of your country. But nothing in him deterred.

“Are you well?” he asked.

“Very well, your grace.” You replied.

Henry turned to your father, looking at him, but only taking a step back.

“Sir…you have not offered me some mortal woman…” he began.

You folded your hands and did your best to mask your dread. Oh no, was he about to Call you something bad? How would you endure the humiliation of being not only rejected but insulted by the king of England mere minutes of meeting him!? You would have to spend your life under a rock in the woods to save your dignity. You looked up to him with big eyes and felt your body brace itself. To hold in the tears and anger of such a moment with as much false calm as you could. Awaiting the blow of the king's insult.

But no blow arrived.

Henry then smiled, eyes turning between you and your father.

“Here before me is an angel from heaven! A woman too lovely for us mere men!” King Henry the Fifth announced.  

One did not recover from such a statement quickly. "Shock" was not quite the word fitting for how you felt. No, it was this. Utter and pure delighted surprise. Your breath quickened. You felt a smile grow on you. Your heart picked up again as he walked closer to you.

“Thank you, your grace…do you fear blasphemy from such words?” you asked.

“Not if it is the truth, just as scripture is,” he added with a wink.

Your mind went blank at his wink, his smile. Hot and your mind spinning. Your mouth kept running from the excitement. But still polite.

“You are generous, your grace.”

He went up to you.

“Could you…call me Henry? Or Harry? Hal, even?”

“I could…Henry,” you replied.

 You watched Henry turn to your father and shake his hand. The alliance went through. With a flourish, he signed the treaty and the agreement to marry you.

“Ah, my lucky little girl…now about to be queen of England!” your father would say later, kissing your cheek.

Henry (for now he was more than just the king, but your intended!) would often invite you to visit. Giving you tours of every room and corner of the castle.

“After all, it’s going to be your home!” he would claim.

Or, to the most shock of anyone, he would visit your home himself to see you. Fine dinners would be served, and he would sit by you as you sewed, smiling like a schoolboy just to be beside you.  

A chaperone was always present, but quiet in the back. A smiling shadow upon you two. Henry wrote you numerous letters and you wrote back to him when he was away. It was easier to like him the more he spent time with you. If not, be infatuated with him. Maybe even love him as the months to the wedding passed. He showered you with gifts and lovers’ tokens. Little ribbons and pieces of jewelry and belts and scraps of paper with love poetry.

The first time he held your hand, you thought you saw him tremble a little. His thumb went over the skin of yours. He was very soft- not pressing or squeezing your own. You felt as if you could float.

The first time he kissed you was the day before the wedding. You were both walking in the gardens. With the sun gentle and the flowers in bloom, it was just like a dream. Your chaperone was in the back, her arms folded before her. Then Henry stopped his steps and turned to you.

“Could I kiss you…on the lips, Y/N?” he asked, his eyes hopeful like a puppy.

You didn’t have the heart to say no. How fortunate that you wanted to. You felt yourself swallow hard and then nod your head.

“Yes,” you answered.

 He tipped your chin to meet him and kissed you. It was gentle.  Chaste, even. You felt his soft lips and nothing else.  But it was…loving. Your knees wobbled again. You felt the breath from his nose. He was so close. So, so close. He felt…good. He let go, the lips clicking as they retracted. Both of your eyes were still closed. When you opened, he relaxed and let out a smile. You opened your mouth a little but had no words.

“Your kiss has a power to it, Y/N,” he whispered.

“I will use them with caution, then,” you replied teasingly.

You then returned to wrapping an arm around his and continuing walking. Both you and your chaperone shared a look, giving an appreciative nod. Something was growing inside you for him. Something…more.  

 You couldn’t deny that Henry was the most handsome man you had ever lain eyes on. His broad back and his slender waist. His winning smile, large, gentle hands, cheekbones, tall height, soft blue eyes- all beautiful.

And desirable.

He was lean and strong-what did he look like beneath his leather and velvet? If you were honest with yourself, you couldn’t wait for your wedding…and your wedding night. You often indulged in secret glances at his codpiece and his behind whenever he turned around-his pants flattered him. And both sides were something to see. The beautiful curls- a mix of red and blonde that he combed back. You wondered what it would be like to touch. Even pull! That was from what you learned from others of what happened between a husband and wife before the big day. Henry’s beard made him look mature and dignified. Not some pranking, whooping boy- a man. A man who knew how to take care of a woman in bed.

Even among your tours of the castle, he never took you to your private chambers. But whenever you passed by the hall with those large, wooden doors right at the end of a small passageway, you couldn’t help but grin.

Already tingly and titillated at the thought of the night, you kept your smile when they dressed you on your wedding day. It was joyous. Your gown was made with the finest while silk with little pearl embellishments and a jeweled belt. No one would doubt you were Queen of England already. Your father led you out. When you were placed on Henry’s left at the door of the chapel, you could see his smile on you- already bedecked in red with his crown. The ceremony felt far too long. But you held yourself together like a giddy child on a festival. The mass and prayers came and went. Henry made his vows before an altar as did you. Then the priest made the sign of the cross over you two.

It was done. You were married to him now. The second the priest let his hand down, bells all over the city- no, not just the city, England itself it-chimed out. Flower petals were tossed your way as you both walked out through the city, presented to the people as a couple.

There were enough guests that it seemed like half the world’s population was there at the feast. Your friends and family, those you loved dearly, were invited.  A thankful distraction from your growing physical desire for your husband (to think! Henry was now your husband!!). They embraced you and wished “Y/N, oh much congrats!” to you. You never felt such beaming love from everyone you cared for as that day. You hugged and chatted and celebrated with the people you loved. Henry smiled at you and kissed your hand with such tenderness your heart could burst. The feast tasted sweet, and the music played even sweeter.

 The room became darker, and servants lit more candles. Guests were leaving. It was announced that there would be a bedding ceremony. It was finally time, you thought with trepidation. Musicians played songs as the party led you to Henry’s chambers through those stone halls. Henry was adorably nervous. You saw his hands twitch and when you brushed close to him. Oh, no doubt you were nervous too. Any rational person in your situation would be nervous. You considered yourself such. But you were also…excited. Ready.

You entered the bedroom. It was large. Fitting for the king. Once it was your father-in-law’s room- the late Henry the Fourth. Now it was your husband’s. It was full of lit candles with tall stained-glass windows, and a white stone floor with black squares. A large bed with a dark canopy full of gold-colored fleur-de-lys patterns, cream pillows, and thick, dark blankets.

Servants undressed you from that beautiful wedding dress. They undressed Henry too until both of you were in your shifts. You couldn’t help but notice how the collar peeked at a beautiful, broad chest-just open enough to see a peek. It seemed as beautiful as you imagined. It made more shivers of desire run through you. You were given a cup of spiced wine that you both sipped from. It felt as sacred as a Eucharist- he looked at you as you drank and as he drank. An offering of something shared-how now you would be joined as one. The bed was now an altar and lovemaking a rite.

 After the bishop blessed the bed, Henry dismissed every courtier. He thanked them for celebrating with him but insisted on privacy. They bowed and left. For the first time, you both were truly alone. He then turned to you.

“How are you, your Highness?” he asked, noting your new title, he took your hands, running a thumb over them.

“It was a long day…but a happy one. I’m a little tired…. but I’m well…,” you answered.

“I’m glad you are, Y/N…” he replied.

Smiling at him, You cupped his cheek and moved his arms to embrace you. He blinked in slight surprise.

“You can hold me…husband,” you said, relishing the taste of the word.

The most you did throughout your betrothal was hold hands. But he obliged and put his long arms around you. He smelled of wine and a bit of incense from the ceremony at the church. With his thumb, he gently traced your face.

“If Satan himself would look at you, he would weep and confess for forgiveness at once…Y/N, Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“Yes- please kiss me,” you replied.

Then he kissed you. But you kept him there. Pressed against you. God’s blood, that beautiful man right near you, against you, on you- feeling his warmth, his body on yours. You wanted more. You then grabbed him and kept kissing him again and again. He felt so warm and soft…except for one part of him you could feel against you. And no codpiece to cover for it. You bit back a giggle at the new feeling, knowing that he really felt the same despite his wide eyes and blushing cheeks. And your body replied in turn. It was as if lightning was coursing through you.  It made you wetter than the sea. Preparing yourself for him.

Oh, and you were more than ready. And this was a perfect time for it. You grabbed onto him. Then began to lead him to the bed with a smile, walking up two little elevated steps that led to the bed strewn with flowers and ribbons for this night. For this moment. For this act. Then right before the bed, your fingers went to the strings of your shift on the collar that held it together-the only layer over you.

Henry’s jaw dropped a little, looking down and then back up to your face. Even if you saw an outline of his desire through his shift, his eyes grew wide.

“Y/N …are you…sure?” he asked.

You undid the tie, showing the valley of your cleavage. You felt his eyes flutter down then forced back up at yours.

“Henry…I want you to take me. Make love to me- make love to your wife tonight!” you insisted quietly.

“I did not wish to…to push you to…to…uh, consummate the marriage before you...you wanted to…” he replied meekly.

The most powerful man in the world and here he was at a loss of words. To think this was once the tavern boy caught with prostitutes!

“I’ve never been more sure of anything, Henry…I want you…take me on your bed…you are my king….rule me and have me here then….” You whispered.

You led his hands to push the rest of your shift off. Leaving you bare before him. His eyes finally drank all of you in.

That was enough to persuade him.

He pushed you down and was on top of you.  Like an animal released from his cage, his kisses had a little more fire to them. His hands began to roam greedily over your body. Down your chest, feeling one of your breasts as he kissed you. Then down your stomach, over your hip bones- feeling each bit of you. He began to pant heavily, his eyes full of eager joy and a playful lust in his smile.

Then you helped to take off his shift. You nearly forgot to breathe at the sight of Henry’s naked body. His strong abdominals and arms. His large chest with a few black hairs. Of course, his own cock was so hard and large you bit back the urge to gasp at the sight of it.  You laid down on the bed, smiling at him.

“Please, Henry…I ache for you…” you urged. Splaying your body before him on his bed. Feeling like a siren. Only he was no hesitant prey.

He pulled himself over you, taking one hand of his to position your legs to open, shifting his weight on top of you.

“I always wondered what this night would be like…what it would be like the moment I saw you…” he whispered.

He looked at you, cupping your cheek. Seeking permission as he settled himself, his tip just at your entrance’s beginning.

“Henry…I’m ready…” you urged him.

Not wanting to keep you waiting any longer. Not able for himself to wait any longer. He then positioned himself. Slowly, he entered you. Inch by agonizing inch. You writhed beneath him, moaning as he got inside.

“Oh! Oh-oh God!” you cried. He was big. You could feel him creeping in deep, almost like your stomach could be penetrated from his largeness. You clung onto the sheets tight, and his own hand went over yours.

He himself let out a grunt when he finally shifted all his cock inside you. There was a little pain, but it fizzled out. You were full-and it was heavenly You held onto him. He pulled his hips back and began to slowly enter you again and again. You groaned with each delicious thrust of his.

“Yes…nrgh-my wife-you-gods-my wife-my sweet wife-“he whispered with each snap.

You opened your arms as well as your legs, holding onto him. He repeated your name again. Kissing you tenderly on the side of your head when he could. A mess of groans and kisses and praise was all the king could say. His arms stretching around to keep you in his embrace.

Then he used one hand and lifted your legs up to a new position- a little deeper. Your knees went up. You let out little cries with each slow, sloppy movement. Each welcome intrusion of him to your insides. You had never known pleasure as much as this.

“Yes…oh gods…Henry…Henry I…oh!” you breathed out.

Your head lay on those cream pillows. Soft as clouds. With the dark bed canopy and the roaring fire, the rain outside pattering the windows, there was never a lovelier, more peaceful night. His curls fell before his face. He kept at it- thrust, thrust, thrust. His shallow breathing above you, and the moans that escaped you that were far from maiden modesty.

 He held you. He gave you an open kiss as he thrust forward for one. He began to mutter more.

“Yes…nrgh- yes, -my little queen…doing so well…”

More little noises came out of you. And you heard his voice get only a little higher in pitch. And yet he continued, only barely picking up the pace. You wrapped your hands to him and ran one through the curls on his head- how soft they felt, like little auburn feathers.  How soft the bed was-a feathered mattress against your bare skin as it slide back and forth slowly against it with each snap of his kingly hips. Henry slowed one thrust but would give you a little kiss- your cheek, the side of your face.

“God’s blood-my wife-nrg-sweet wife-oh-yes-taking-taking me…”

He kept at it. Then he reached down. He found your entrance, the very beginning where your lips and walls. He talked softly in between thrusts.

“I’m…I’m close, and I think….I think you are too, my little wife- I…yes…come undone, come undone with me…”

 He reached inside and you gasped from the feeling. He found your bud, his finger curling with it, stroking it with each thrust. You let out another gasp. He smiled.

“Let go wife-nrgh-let it…let it-“

 He began to strum it. Then everything overwhelmed you. You were spinning higher and higher. His kisses and hands already felt your bud and with his playing. You felt yourself winding up, curling up inside. You shook so hard. You wondered if you were going to die from the overwhelm, from the rising feeling, the intensity. His thrusts picked up the pace, you felt it growing, growing, growing.

Then finally, something hit you so suddenly, so hard-your body clenching and releasing all at once you let out a loud cry as the sensation hit you like cold air.

“Ah!”

A last thrust, the king of England came undone and let out his own small shout of pleasure. Then he stopped his thrusts. He stayed inside you, letting his seed rope itself. Then he held you, held you tight as he came inside you. It seemed as if the world itself stopped.

 Once it was done, he pulled out but kept close to you. Caressing your cheek. Panting hard, his broad, strong chest rising with his breaths.

“How are you?” he asked.

“I feel…I’ve never felt so good, husband,” you replied with a giggle as you pulled him forward to wrap your arms and kiss him until both fell asleep.

He did turn out to be a good husband. Always listening, gentle, and enthusiastic about his role. He listened to your own advice and always took you seriously. He was aggressively faithful, shutting down even the idea of a mistress if any lord was foolish enough to suggest it. He spent time with you. There were so many times you would hold him to your chest and hum, playing with his curls. You learned from each other and challenged each other to do better each day. Be it in a game of chess or in court. He made you feel…safe. Wanted. Loved, even. Not to mention he was a passionate lover in bed. If your one duty was to bed the king, then being queen was quite a simple task indeed. And a duty you loved to fulfill again. And again. And again. And again.

You managed your own life as queen well. adapting and figuring it out. Attending parliament by his side.

You were sitting by him when the fateful day came. It was found out he had a claim to France. And the French ambassador mocked him by giving him the gift of a box full of tennis balls. Furious at the insult, Henry declared there and then he would begin an invasion of France.

 He’s going to leave. He’s going to be gone to war. And who knows how long, you thought sadly. You went to your chambers and began to sob. Then the next day, all were discussing logistics. You sat on your own throne, contemplating it all as they talked.

“Yes, my brother- John shall stay. He will lead…” Henry announced. “And by this day, we will gather the army and set sail for France.”

You couldn’t take it. You sat up at once.

“And I will go with you!” you insisted.

The men’s heads turned to you.

“What?!” cried one lord, stepping forward.

The advisors went around you.

“Your Highness…it is not safe!” advised another.

You walked forward, looking down at the table with the map on it. Then you looked at them and addressed them.

“My husband is a warrior. And when we were married, we were made one. This means I am a warrior too, in my own way. And where he goes, there I must go too- his battles are mine as well. Then I say- I will go with him!” you declared, slamming a firm hand on the table.

There was a second of silence. Then your husband took your hands.

“If we can make it safe for her, she will go with me,” he said.

You went off to France with him. You braved the rollicking ships. You both shared a little cot bed as the ship heaved back and forth at night. One night was a storm and the thunder surprised you so much in your bed, you clung to him. He only laughed a little, rubbing your back in comfort.

“It’s only the voice of God, my dove, He is on our side…and protecting you,” he assured, kissing your forehead.

It was not long before it arrived and the army began to set forth. You traveled through forests, riding your horse by your husband’s side through villages and countryside for entire days.  You were a little nervous being the only woman surrounded by men. But they knew how precious a queen you were to their Harry of England, their sovereign. If any of them dared to lay a hand on you, they knew they would face a quick and bloody end on their king’s sword. So, they kept respectful, always greeting you with bows and soft voices.  You would set up camp and then live in a tent rather than a palace.  Some hours you would give your own counsel as you stood by him for planning the army’s next move. When there was an attack, you were put in a safe place with many guards so none would dare hurt the king’s beloved. Other times, you would volunteer with the food or help with medical needs- helping with injuries, cooling warm foreheads with cloths. You saw this fiercer side already of him. He shouted bold, encouraging speeches as they went and attacked towns.

Though you scolded him for the speech he made to the Governor of a city called Harfleur. When they arrived, to your immense shock, Henry coldly threatened his army would pillage the town, set their infants on spikes, and ravish the village women. That was enough to persuade the governor to open the gates and peacefully let them go through without one shred of violence. But his words still rang and made you see red with anger.

You met him in your tent later, and he jumped at your frown. You crossed your arms.

“Henry- you dare to have your men do these unspeakable things to women! You know better! Have you considered I am a woman as well?! And that is our worst fear!”

“I only wished to scare him. I knew it would move him, my dear. And it does happen during wars…”

“You will not let that happen! You will not let the soldiers force themselves on civilian women-or I shall never speak to you, and you won’t be allowed in my chambers either! I’ll sleep in another tent and not allow you to lay a hand on me!” You chided.

It was a threat which, like his to the governor, worked well. He never made a spoke like that again. And you forgave him.

The many ups and downs.  The army was too depleted to move onto Paris so all of you went to Calais. You stopped and fled further realizing the French army was chasing everyone down. You arrived at the small town of Agincourt. The French army had now surrounded you. The Dauphin arrived one cold night. And it was decided-there would be a formal battle tomorrow.

Now here it was- a decisive battle. Only a small handful of soldiers could get a full night’s sleep and Henry himself stayed awake to talk to them. But in your tent, you tossed and turned in your makeshift bed under many blankets. You awoke and then fell again. Your worries had haunted you.

They were going to fight the Dauphin’s army. And the Dauphin’s men outnumbered Henry’s. Five French soldiers for every English.

You awoke shivering and dressed. You gathered your cloak for it was a cold day. Opening the flap of one tent, you saw him. Henry. A small distance away, kneeling in the grass. It was so early that the sky was still grey, the sun barely peeking. You could hear his prayer.

“Lord…strengthen my soldier’s hearts…I’ve made my repentance to Richard and his grave…. please strengthen them…and me…”

Five to one, your mind kept repeating to yourself. Five to one. Five to one.

You wondered at the white horse he brought with him. It was with the others chewing on grass in ignorance of what was about to happen. Why would your husband need it? It would be as if he was a target for their practice! A surefire way to signal this was the man to kill.

How fragile he seemed as he kept praying. He was human. Your husband’s mortality dawned on you. His racing heart could stop. His warm skin grow cold. And his shallow breaths of his anxious prayer would end and there would be none anymore. He dressed in a red doublet- red as the blood threatening to spill from him.

You approached him, noticing him making the sign of the cross to end the prayer. He turned his head to see you.

“How are you?” you asked.

“Only as well as I can be…” he asked.

He easily got up from the grass. Then he went over to a of his lords and guards already armored. He whispered something to them. Nodding, they turned back to camp. He then returned, his gloved hands taking yours.

“I’d…I’d like to spend some time with you…. before…before it starts,” he said.

“Of course, dear husband,” you answered with a smile.

Both of you walked into the woods. It was peaceful- you heard the leaves beneath your shoes and the birdsong. The rustling of trees and the mist as gentle as his kisses at your wedding.  Disguised in your cloaks, you could have been any ordinary pair of lovers wandering in the forest. Not a king and queen of a whole nation.

“Y/N…do you see that? In the valley?” he asked, pointing at a hand.

It was a barn and An old house. The house was abandoned and burned to where the walls were only halfway stood beside it. The barn was intact. He led you inside- the wood creaking and the wind whistling through it. There wasn’t one living life around. No horses. No pigs. Not even an ant.

“We’re a distance off…are we still safe?” you asked.

“It’s alright- you know the path- find the oak tree with mushrooms and keep walking north…Y/N, I asked the guards to leave us alone for a little. I wanted to…to be with you.”

There were no animals around, much less people.  Only you two. Even the sky itself seemed unreal. It was nothing but the grey light of dawn over a cloudy sky. So early, it felt cold. And it was misty and grey.

It was dark and musty in the barn. You saw a wooden bench and stables and troughs. But it was mostly hay- so much hay that there were still tall stalks around the barn.

He then turned to you and kissed you. He took you in his arms. He touched your face, and you realized a tear was rolling down your cheek.

“Y/N…I want this…if this is our last moment together…I….” he began.

He held you closer.

“Yes, Henry….”

He took a deep breath. Then kissed you again, only leaving a trail down your neck. Your heart picked up and you warmed up quickly. He then returned, cupping your face again and looking directly into your eyes, so close. So, there was only him.

“The camp is far off. They won’t disturb us. They won’t hear us. Y/N I… I…I love you….”

“I love you too,” you replied. You kissed him again. You shivered from feeling the cold. And the growing desperation on his face.

“I know this is not the most romantic place. This is not the most beautiful speech I can think of. But…I say it again because it is simple. It is true- I love you, Y/N. And should I die, I want you to know that…”

He paused. Then blinking back a couple tears, he continued.

“If…If this is the day, I’m killed…it is a prayer for you that will be my last word…I’m glad I met you. I’m glad I married you. I have so much shame, so much regret…but you- you were the best choice I made as king. To choose to marry you, love you…”

You cupped him and kissed him again. You felt him press against you. His hands went from your back to your sides. His gloves went up and began to bunch your skirt. Already, you felt yourself grow wet for him. Feeling the bit of cold air on your skin.

“The guards are away…the army is away…they’re far…my wife…please…. here…. love me one last time, lie with me here-so I can feel you-know it is like inside you, to feel your pleasure one more time…”

You grabbed onto him. Feeling his skin, his breathing in his body-his life. His fire.

“Yes…take me. Henry- use me now. I know you feel so much. Take it out. Take out everything on me…just love me…make love to me, husband. Strongly. Strongly as you feel,” you pleaded.

He gave a small smile, giving a last kiss with tongue. Tasting him. He pressed you close.

“You will?” he asked.

“I will,” you answered.

 Then he pushed you roughly and you and you landed with a small laugh against a haystack. One so high it was taller than yourself.   He then backed you to the haystalk in a second. His kisses on your neck had added teeth. He was leaving marks against the skin of your exposed neck.

“Do you like this, little wife?” he asked.

“I do!”

He chuckled lightly.

“Gods, you torment me. Each time you are there in my tent, every meeting you look at me and smile, I imagine you without your gown on. If could, I’d have you over that very table the second they left every meeting…”

Then, his hand turned to a grip. He grabbed onto you. You began to grind naturally against him. He gasped at the feeling but kept talking.

“Perhaps I could grab you and have you on the grass. And have every soldier who leered at you to watch. To have them watch as I take you like a beast. So, they know none of them can make you cum like I can.  Until your name is all you can say on your lips. So, they all know you are mine.”

He found the blouse of your dress. Desperately, he pulled down the overdress’s shoulders. With one tug, he undid the strap of the shift beneath and pulled it down. Your breasts exposed. He cupped and kissed it. He kept a hand, pinching your nipple as he went to your ear. Then he began to make more biting kisses on your neck You embraced him- touching what you could, kissing what you could.

“Henry…I love you, I love you…” you repeated.

“I love you, and be ready, little wife. You’ve wanted fire-now you have it.”

He lowered his mouth to kiss your breasts. Then he used teeth and tongue. He bit your breasts, licked your nipples, and then used his teeth. You began to moan. It was so loud, that you were grateful not even animals could hear you now.

Then he lightly tossed you around. Then he turned you around, pushing you so that you leaned over a wooden bench that was kept there. Your hands braced onto the wood. He then lifted your skirt up to your hips, your bum exposed to him. He gave you a small smack on your behind. You let out a cry.

“I remember your chiding at Harfleur. That’s what you get, little wife, when you disobey your king. You get punishment.”

He began to undo his pants with a quick click of his belt. He began to thrust into you there- hitting this new angle. It was so obscene; you couldn’t help but give into it. Your own filthy moans and his grunts right behind you.

“There-nrgh-yes-I-I-I-take you, like-like a whore-“

You were moving along, feeling your own body shake with each fast, deep thrust. You let out shouts as he got over. The spinning feeling, coiling in your belly, rising from the delicious degradation.

“Oh…oh gods-Henry-I’m-I’m going to-to cum, I’mgoingtocumI’m-“

Then he stopped. You heard his voice behind you.

“Not yet…. you won’t release yet. I’m not done,” he announced.

He turned you around. His large hands almost ripped off your cloak, and then your dress so it pulled down. If he could rip your dress to shreds, he would. But he only roughly put it all aside. You were fully naked, and he was still clothed. He smiled and licked his lips, his curls freed from his head.

“This- seeing this again- I would fight a hundred battles to see your bare breasts and feel your sweet warmth around my cock again.”

He picked you up. You held onto him. With one hand, he pulled down his pants as you held tighter. Released, his leaking tip is already teasing your entrance. Then he backed you up against the hay. He hooked your leg up to be around him. The hay was so high and sturdy that it held you up.

“My queen among people, but my whore in this barn.”

You gasped a little as he entered you. He was fast, desperate. His thrusts wild. He even freed one hand and slapped your breasts, and you let out a cry.

“How can I not touch these breasts? You make me too hard to even think in this army. Riding my horse when I want to use you like a mare beneath me.”

“Hen-Henry-I-I-“ the words left you.

Your breasts began to bounce with his movement obscenely. He grunted more like an animal. You wrapped your arms around his still-clothed shoulders, trying to keep up.

“I love-love-nrgh-you so much-gods-yes, I love you-nrgh-you’re all I could think about-yes-do you understand-ah!- how hard -yes- it is to speak diplomacy-nrgh- with the French when your cock is raging hard seeing your wife?”

He thrust into you again and your own voice was getting a little higher. Hard, rough, desperate.  The spinning, the rising was happening. You held onto him. Then one glove began to reach down and circle your clitoris, you gasped- letting it out. The hard leather on your wet folds, on your bud was going to break you. You heard his words. You bit on, to fight the rise, to not release yet. Hearing each thing he said.

“If I live- I Want you in my tent. On my bed, over the blankets. I want you naked -and I want your legs spread wide for me-so I can ravish you like this again when it’s done. Do that-do that for your king,”

“Yes, yes-I will!”

“I-I-am-nrgh-your king, am I?” he asked as he thrust.

“Y-yes! Yes, you are!”

“Who is your king?”

“Henry! Henry’s my king!”

He then continued at another violent, rougher pace. You wondered how much of this you could even take.

“I want to take you-nrgh- scream-nrgh-so all of France know who belongs to you-you-yes-NRGH- are mine-as-as as France as mine.”

He began to thrust harder. You gasped, as he kept at it.

“Oh-Oh my god-oh god- it’s-it’s happening-Henry I’m-I’m I’mI’mI’m-“

“Yes-Yes-you’re there, little whore-cum-cum for your king-cum for your king-cum for your king!”

Finally, you did too with a last scream. It echoed across to where the sound pattered through the woods. With a breathy, struggled shout he released as well. He kept thrusting, but slower. His hot speed shot forth and went inside you. Both of you panting wildly- you could see your chests heaving. He then held you, shaking a little as he caught his breath.

“Y/N….darling…thank you…I love you…so much…”

He kissed the side of your head as you nestled together. He kissed your cheek and his grip softened.

“Are you hurt?”

“No…I’m not…I have never felt better…” you said.

He helped you back up. Though you felt a little dizzy from the intensity. You could feel his seed inside you-dripping a little down your thighs. You wanted it to stay. Perhaps you would have a child from this and you would have to one day tell them they were conceived on the morn of a battle. Your legs shook. He picked up your discarded clothes and quickly helped you dress back into them. You combed you both wiped the hay off of both of you.

“That was…that was incredible…” you sighed as he clasped the cloak around you.

“And I must agree with you…” he replied.

You walked out soon. Still holding hands. He blushed bright red and there was a prance to his step. Confidence. Even if he was defeated, he would not go down easily. Not without a fight. The sun was now rising higher. The time was approaching. You watched as he was fitted back to his armor by his servants as you stood and watched. Exchanging small looks between you. But before he faced his men, he went back and gave you a passionate kiss. The deepest, and most loving kiss you ever felt him give you.

“Should anything happen to me- the Dauphin out of mercy he shall make sure you are safely brought home to England as an act of diplomacy. I made him promise. And the remaining soldiers will guard you, as well as my uncle.”

“But if…nothing happens to you…” you asked hopefully.

“Then…you remember your promise…” he said with a grin.

“I will see you in our tent…”

He smiled, then he went down and kissed your hand. Tears in his eyes.

“I never knew one soul like yours. Your courage, your kind heart, your wisdom…the greatest of all queens in all nations, and if I had my choice of every woman, it would still be you…”

You embraced him a last time.

“I love you, Y/N. And you will always be loved by me. Thank you…thank you for everything…”

“I love you too, Henry…”

Sharing a brief last kiss on your forehead, he went on his white horse. You felt tears streaming down your face. Then off he went with his men to battle. You never felt prouder of him. Though you felt yourself crying, you were smiling as well. Proud of your king. Your lover. Your husband.

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Honey Bun (18+ Series)

Aaron Hotchner x Stripper!Reader

Part 3 // MINORS DNI

WC: 3.1k words

Song Inspo: Bop it Up! - The Marías (this song is sooooo)

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, bit of an age gap (placing reader at around 25-26), cursing, alcohol consumption, formalized sex work (Stripper/Pole Dancer), occasional angst, drama. In this chapter specifically -- oral (m receiving), p in v, dirty talking, tittyfuck, aaaand that's all I can think of rn, but lmk if I missed anything!

A/N: Hahahaha this got a little too self-indulgent for a moment sorry about that but anyways pls enjoy hee hee

Out in the main room, Gia was draped on the lap of her favorite regular —  A ruggedly handsome playboy that oozed charm and mischief, pearly white teeth glinting in the neon lighting. Derek was his name, and he was a rare exception to the sea of shitty patrons that came into the Crimson Lounge. 

While he didn’t stop by all too often, he always tried to make time to see Gia. He treated her like a queen, really. He bought her presents and kept in touch with her, so that she wouldn’t think he forgot about her.

He was generous with his tips, always making sure to give you some when you were on stage, too. Sometimes, he’d even get the VIP room for an hour just to get you and Gia out of the main floor, even if all the three of you did was talk. But that’s not to say things were always rated PG. 

You supposed at that point, you could consider him a friend of sorts, as well.

“Hello there, lovebirds,” you smirked at them, perching on the armrest of the seat next to theirs.

“Hey, Honey Bunny,” said Derek, adopting the nickname Gia gave you. “Busy night?”

“Never too busy for you two.”

Gia leaned her temple against his, smiling wide. “Derek was just being a big cheeseball.”

He chuckled. “What, can’t I tell you I missed you? It’s been a while, Gigi.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “You guys are cute.”

“There’s enough love to go around, Honey,” Derek smirked.

“Save it. I’m allergic.”

“Oh, please,” Gia scoffed. “I’ve seen you heart-eyed before.”

You raised an eyebrow. “When?”

“With me, silly. Obviously.” She shook her head, bending closer to Derek’s ear to fake whisper, “Don’t let her fool you, she’s a big softie on the inside.”

His smirk only grew. “Trust me, I know.”

Once more, you rolled your eyes, swatting at them playfully. You still hadn’t told her about Aaron, but you were sure she could see the dreamy sort of infatuation in your eyes whenever your thoughts drifted to him. You hadn’t yet been on another date with him, but you couldn’t wait to see him again. 

Eventually, you would probably have to tell him about this job… if things even got that far. A part of you wanted to stall things so that you could keep seeing him for longer. You weren’t sure how he would react, and a part of you feared that he’d simply cut you off. If that were the case, he wouldn’t really be worth keeping around anyway.

It would hurt, yes, but you wouldn’t ever let anyone shame you for anything you chose to do. 

“We really need to get her a man, though,” she insisted. “Don’t you have a friend you could set her up with?”

“None that are worthy,” he said, but then thought about it. “Well, except maybe one or two.”

“It’s okay, baby,” you said, reaching over to pat his knee in appreciation. “Trust me, I can get my own.”

They both raised their eyebrows in amusement, sharing a look.

“I know you can,” Derek conceded. “If you change your mind, though, I can bring one to you. Hell, I can bring them both to you.”

—————————————-

“Are you going to be home late tonight?” Sadie asked from the doorway. “I’m going out, too, and I just wanted to know if you’d be here after me or….”

“Probably,” you shrugged, glancing over at her. “Wait, is that my shirt?”

“…Maybe. I’ll wash it, I promise.”

You sighed in resignation, letting it go for the time being.

“Actually, I don’t even know if I’ll be home at all tonight.”

“Ooooh, I thought it was just a lil date,” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

You rolled your eyes. “You know how dates can end.”

Aaron had invited you over to watch movies at his place, promising he would cook for you. It’d be your first date in private, which made it all the more exciting. You rarely accepted dates at somebody’s house, but this was Aaron you were talking about!

You knew he wouldn’t try any funny business — unless that’s what you wanted (which it was) — so that made you feel more at ease. Well, for the most part, since you were practically vibrating with anticipation, too.

“Oh my god, you’re like, shaking,” she said teasingly, wagging her eyebrows suggestively. “You like this one, don’t you?”

You huffed in frustration, fixing your ponytail. You’d opted to dress cute but comfortable, finally having a night off to yourself. You couldn’t even remember the last time you wore plain leggings and a sweatshirt, but at that moment, you wished you never had to wear anything else.

“What’s with everyone suddenly thinking I’m a hopeless romantic or something?” 

“I don’t know, dude. I haven’t seen you like this about someone in a while.”

“Whatever, Sadie,” you said, deciding to change the subject. “Where are you going anyways?”

“It’s Nena’s twenty-first, remember?” she said, shouldering you a little to the side so she could also look in the mirror. “We’re going to the Duchess, so don’t worry, I’m sure Jo’s gonna keep an eye on us.”

Your phone buzzed on the dresser, and you saw it was a text from Aaron saying he was outside.

“Well, just be careful, okay? And don’t drink too much,” you said, kissing her temple as you grabbed your stuff.

“Have fuuun~” she said in a sing-song voice. “Oh! And can I borrow your leather jacket?”

“Yes, as long as you don’t scratch it!” You yelled over your shoulder, practically skipping towards the door.

——————-

Upon arrival, Aaron hung up his keys and his jacket, hovering close to you.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” he said, vaguely gesturing around.

“Wow, your place is really nice,” you said as you took off your shoes by the door.

That was an understatement. His house was immaculate, really, with hardwood floors and modest decorations. He had nice furniture, but nothing too flashy or extravagant. You already knew he had money, but it was clear he didn’t much care to flaunt it.

“I can give you a tour after dinner,” he offered. “I finished preparing everything earlier, just need to heat it up.”

“Need any help?”

“No, no, don’t worry about it. You just sit back and relax, let me spoil you.”

You couldn’t help but smile slyly. “Spoil me, huh? Careful, Aaron. I just might get used to it.”

He smirked a little. “That’s the plan.”

From the adjacent living room, you watched him putter around in the kitchen, placing a dish in the oven and opening a bottle of red wine. He whistled a little as he worked, and you saw the flex of his muscles under his shirt. Your eyes trailed down to his exposed forearms, since he’d rolled up his sleeves.

Suddenly you were very hungry, but food was the last thing on your mind.

He brought you a glass and sat next to you on the couch, clinking his glass with yours. His body was angled to face you, arm resting behind you. You adjusted yourself, scooting just a little bit closer in the process.

“I’m surprised I was able to pull you away from work,” he said. “I’m really glad you could make some time for me in your busy agenda.”

“Oh, please,” you grinned, taking a sip of wine. “You act like I’m the only one.”

He chuckled. “I’ll give you that, but I did call off in advance.”

“So did I. Plus, doesn’t that make this time together even sweeter?”

He nodded, his eyes roaming over your face. He leaned forward to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“It sure does.”

You couldn’t help yourself, so you met him halfway and planted a kiss on his lips. It was quick and innocent, but it left enough of a promise that there would be more to come. 

At that moment, the oven’s timer dinged, indicating that the food was ready. The two of you moved over to the dining table, which was neatly set, lit candles and all. He’d made pasta primavera and some rosemary chicken, which smelled heavenly. Not only did you love how much effort he put into it, but also the fact he was genuinely a good cook. He smiled when your eyes fluttered close after the first bite, humming in delight.

Dinner was a breeze, where you swapped stories and joked around, hands often coming together. They were so thrilling, those little touches; So incredibly intimate in their simplicity. 

Perhaps it was then that the foreplay really started, before you even kissed him again. 

You patted your belly as he cleared the table, smiling beatifically. At that moment, you wanted nothing more than to languish with him, your body warm from not just the wine.

“You know how they say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?” You said. “I think that applies to women, too.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder, his smile mirroring yours. “I told you my nefarious plans from the beginning.”

You couldn’t help but giggle as he came back from the kitchen, leading you back towards the couch. God, now you were giggling too!? This wasn’t helping your case at all. You could picture Sadie and Gia’s smug smirks clear as day.

“Well, safe to say you succeeded.”

In a small act of boldness, you propped your legs up on his lap as soon as he sat next to you. He was so warm, too, and all you wanted was to sink into him. But the amount of restraint you two had held onto so far was kind of fun, almost like teasing. His hand came to rest on your knee, thumb lightly tracing it. 

“So, do you have a movie in mind?” You asked, propping a cushion behind you and lying back on it.

He looked over at you, his eyes flicking down your body before returning to your face. “I could think of a few. What kind do you like?”

“Wait, oh my god, crazy request, but have you ever seen Bram Stoker’s Dracula?” You asked excitedly, propping up on your elbows. “The Coppola one. It’s one of my favorite movies, sooo fucking campy!”

“You’re cute when you’re excited,” he said, and his eyes seemed to gleam with affection as he started looking for it on his smart TV. “Anyways, I haven’t seen it, but now I really think I should.”

“Prepare to be absolutely blown away.”

Once he found the movie, you were more focused on his reactions rather than the actual film. You tried to watch, you really did, but it was impossible to look away from him. The elegant column of his throat, the clean cut of his jaw, the dark fan of his lashes…

His thumb absently continued its slow caresses on your knee, and you surreptitiously slid closer, so now your thighs were on his lap. He looked down at you then, his eyes pitch black in the low light, desire like a living thing behind them.

Your restraint broke then and there.

You sat up, cupping the back of his head and bringing him into your ravenous kiss. On the screen, Mina and Dracula were also kissing after he finally confessed his undying devotion for her. You moaned a little as he pulled you up so you could straddle him properly. 

You raked your fingers through his hair as his tongue found yours. It wasn’t so much a kiss as it was a devouring, all the anticipation finally reaching its peak. He ran his hands down your back, reaching your hips as you rocked them. His breathing hitched at the friction, grip tightening.

“God… I’ve wanted this for days now,” he said, barely separating his lips from yours. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

“You’re telling me,” you said with the smallest laugh, capturing his lower lip with your teeth. 

He groaned into your mouth, which caused you to shudder. His hands hesitated at the hem of your sweatshirt, so you leaned back to grant him permission, raising your arms above your head. He took it off for you, tossing it to the side. 

“You’re not wearing a bra,” he rasped, seemingly surprised but also utterly delighted. 

“Obviously not, it’s my day off,” you said, nipping at his jaw, causing him to chuckle.

He moved to kiss your neck, your clavicles, your sternum, before finally his tongue encircled one of your nipples. One of your hands kept his head in place as you leaned back, eyes closing momentarily. Beneath you, his cock was rock hard, straining against his slacks. 

As he rolled your other nipple between his fingers, you rocked your hips agonizingly slow. When his teeth grazed your sensitive skin, your body jerked, and you pushed him back.

“I need this off, now,” you urged, shaking fingers unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off of him.

You ran your hands down his hairy chest, mouth watering at the sight of his heaving breaths and his puffy lips. You licked your lips salaciously, an idea popping into your mind. 

“What do you say we turn this into a no pants party?” You purred.

He nodded eagerly, and you slid off his lap onto the floor, kneeling before him. He shifted his hips forward, and you reached to undo his belt and slacks, pulling them down. His cock sprang out, hitting his stomach. It was thick and just above average in length, with a prominent vein that you could not wait to tongue. The tip glistened with precum, and he gripped the base as your hands came to rest on his thighs. 

Teasingly, you gave the tip a couple of kitten licks, tasting the salty musk of his arousal. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, and you looked up at him through your lashes. His hips bucked involuntarily, and you smirked. 

“You like teasing me, don’t you?” he panted. “Where did my sweet Honey go?”

“I’m right here,” you breathed, pressing a kiss on his shaft before letting him feed it into your mouth. 

You flattened your tongue as you began bobbing your head slowly, taking him deeper each time. He wound your ponytail around his hand as he gently guided your head, groaning as he reached the back of your throat. You hummed around his length.

You released him momentarily, pumping him with your fist as you finally licked the entirety of that sensitive vein. His body jerked, and more precum leaked out of the tip.

“Fuck,” he gritted out, head tossed back. “That mouth of yours is heaven.”

You giggled, utterly drunk on the fact that you could give him such pleasure. You rubbed your thighs together as you leaned forward, pressing your breasts against his cock. He began shuttling it up and down immediately, and you spat down on it so it could slide even easier. 

“Such a dirty girl,” he praised, brow furrowed at all the stimulation you were subjecting him to. “I think I’ll lose my mind if I don’t fuck you soon.”

“That makes two of us.”

He gently pulled your head back as he bent to kiss you feverishly. Your tongues tangled messily, the movement of his hips erratic. Arousal was a deep well of heat in your belly, inner thighs sticky from how wet you were.

You moaned into each other’s mouths and, unable to wait any longer, you extricated yourself from him. You yanked your leggings off, along with your underwear, the two of you maintaining heavy eye contact.

You quickly grabbed a condom from your purse, opening the wrapper with your teeth before rolling it onto him. You were a responsible horndog, after all, even if you were also on birth control.

Next thing you knew, you were sinking down on his length, stretching you deliciously. You shared breath as he bottomed out, his hands on your back firmly pressing you against him. 

“God, you’re so wet and warm,” he groaned, gripping your hips once more. “You’re taking me so well, too. This pussy is so good to me.”

You began riding him slowly, adjusting to his size. He filled you up so nicely, and you couldn’t help but whimper in his ear. He kissed your shoulder and your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

Soon enough, you picked up the pace, working the entirety of his length. You pulled back, using his shoulders to steady yourself, your breasts bouncing in his face. He chased one of them with his mouth, sucking your nipple once more.

The lewd sound of skin slapping together filled the room, as well as the chorus of your moans and grunts. You could feel that familiar coil winding in your stomach, and you bit down on your bottom lip.

“F-fuck, your cock feels so fucking good. It’s so t-thick,” you mewled, back arching. “I’m so close.”

“You’re clenching me hard,” he said, pulling back and reaching between the two of you so his fingers found your clit. “Come for me, I want to feel you coming all over my cock.”

He stroked your clit in quick, tight circles, and your hips stuttered. There was no rhythm to your movements at that point, just you chasing your high.

You came undone mere moments later, crying out his name. He was whispering praises before his words melted into a low groan. You could feel his cock twitching inside of you as he also reached his peak, prolonging your orgasm.

The two of you panted heavily, foreheads leaning together. You kissed him sweetly, smiling against his lips. He rubbed your back gently, and you could feel his hammering heartbeat against your chest, in tempo with yours.

“I wanted to jump your bones from the moment I first saw you,” you confessed with a chuckle, wiping a strand of dark hair away from his forehead. “But the real thing was so much better than my fantasies.”

“Oh, so you fantasized about me, did you?” He teased, and you shifted your hips in retaliation, making him hiss. “Easy there, cowgirl. You know I wanted you just as bad.”

The two of you laughed, sharing a couple more pecks before you lifted yourself off of him, plopping back onto the cushion.

He went to clean himself off and discard the condom, coming back with some water and a wet cloth to clean you up. He’d also brought you one of his t-shirts to wear, which you immediately slipped on, inhaling the lingering scent of his cologne deeply. He pulled you to him, kissing the top of your head and wrapping his arms around you.

“We can restart the movie if you want,” he said. “I must shamefully admit I wasn’t paying any attention to it.”

You grinned impishly. “I forgive you, I also wasn’t focusing much.”

“Something tells me we might have to pause it again, especially with you looking like that.”

“Well, you won’t hear me complaining.”

[yellowsocialbunny]

targaryen sims pt. V

Princess Rhaenys Targaryen was a great beauty. She had black hair and lilac eyes. By the time Rhaenys was fifty-five, she had a lean, lined face, and her black hair was streaked with white. She was a clever, capable, spirited, proud, fierce and fearless woman. She had a fiery temperament. Rhaenys wore steel and copper armor which flashed in the sun.

Lord Corlys Velaryon was a proud man. He was hailed as the greatest seafarer the Seven Kingdoms had ever known. Corlys was said to be as brilliant as he was restless, and as adventurous as he was ambitious. Though he accomplished much and more in life, he was seldom satisfied. Corlys was known to be intractable, even in old age. He was remembered as wise in peace and valiant in war.

King Viserys Targaryen was a peaceful man who hated conflict, and was plump and pleasant. He was described as amiable, open-handed, and eager to please. Though Viserys was never considered strong willed, he was not pliable or indecisive either; when he made a choice, he was unwavering, and firmly stood by his decision. King Viserys's generosity was legendary, and the Red Keep became a place of song and splendor during his reign. Viserys was well loved by lords and smallfolk alike. Viserys sported a bushy, silver-gold mustache, and wore the crown of his grandfather, Jaehaerys I Targaryen.

Queen Aemma Arryn Aemma was the fifth child of Lord Rodrik Arryn, and the only one by his second wife, Princess Daella Targaryen, herself the daughter of King Jaehaerys I Targaryen and his sister-wife Alysanne Targaryen. Aemma's mother died in childbed. In 97 AC, Aemma gave birth to a healthy daughter, Princess Rhaenyra. Aemma and Viserys both adored their only living child. In early 105 AC, Aemma became pregnant once more. Late in the year, she gave birth to a son, Prince Baelon Targaryen. Aemma died during the birth, and her son died a day later.

Prince Daemon Targaryen was described by Maester Yandel as dashing, daring, and dangerous, but mercurial and quick to take offense. Archmaester Gyldayn wrote that Daemon was ambitious, impetuous, and moody, as charming as he was hot-tempered. Daemon was a renowned warrior skilled in the joust, hunting, and swordplay. Daemon had silver hair and wore plate armor. While Commander of the City Watch of King's Landing, he wore a gold cloak and a surcoat depicting the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen. He wielded Dark Sister, a Valyrian steel sword, and rode Caraxes.

Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen had her family's Valyrian looks, wearing her silver-gold hair in a long braid in the manner of Queen Visenya Targaryen. Rhaenyra had a large bosom, but never lost the weight she gained from pregnancies, and she had grown stout and thick of waist at the age of twenty after her third pregnancy. Rhaenyra was proud and stubborn, and there was a certain petulance to her small mouth. Though she could be charming, Rhaenyra was quick to anger and never forgot a slight. Rhaenyra always dressed richly, favoring purple and maroon velvets and golden Myrish lace in intricate patterns. Her bodice often glittered with pearls and diamonds, and there were always rings on her fingers. During the Dance of the Dragons, she wore the crown of her father, Viserys I, which had first been worn by King Jaehaerys I Targaryen.

descriptions by A Wiki of Ice and Fire

[daenerystemper]

I remembered something. It’s from the wretched season. The two hacks had Dany say “I’ve never begged for anything” which contradicted how she said in S2 “I’m begging you”. Those two really were inconsistent with their own story weren’t they? But I also don’t like the implications. I think they were trying to portray Dany as this arrogant and prideful woman who was so proud that she wouldn’t beg for anything or be humble. And they clearly wanted to portray her “begging for the first time” as her being selfish. Those two hacks never understood her character. They didn’t understand any of the characters. I take satisfaction knowing their wretch awful season burned their show and their careers to the ground. I just hope GRRM will finish the books and give the story and characters the writing and hopefully ending they deserve. I have a lot of hope that Dany will get a good ending in the books

it’s surprising that they forgot they had daenerys begging for things as well considering how badly they intentionally butchered her season two arc.  rather than showcasing her as a queen who is learning how to navigate court,  they have daenerys demanding to be let in & given things because she has dragons which is not something that happens in the books since the qartheen come looking for her instead.  the thing is,  there’s nothing “wrong” with begging for help.  for example,  daenerys’s major goal starting from a clash of kings where she begins learning how to maneuver politically is to find ships. she doesn't like to beg, but she isn't above it.

“Xaro Xhoan Daxos would be no help to her, she knew that now. For all his professions of devotion, he was playing his own game, not unlike Pyat Pree. The night he asked her to leave, Dany had begged one last favor of him. “An army, is it?” Xaro asked. “A kettle of gold? A galley, perhaps?” Dany blushed. She hated begging. “A ship, yes.” Xaro’s eyes had glittered as brightly as the jewels in his nose. “I am a trader, Khaleesi. So perhaps we should speak no more of giving, but rather of trade. For one of your dragons, you shall have ten of the finest ships in my fleet. You need only say that one sweet word.” “No,” she said.” DAENERYS V,  A CLASH OF KINGS

i think it’s important to note that only daenerys’s begging in seen as humiliating because it comes across as petulant.  she doesn’t want to “share” the throne.  she is so manipulative & convincing that she would “overpower jon” should he give into her,  despite tyrion successfully talking jon into murdering daenerys because she kills “evil men”.  in comparison,  jon spends several seasons begging for more soldiers at the wall.  he & sansa both partake in begging northern houses to help them in their cause to retake winterfell.  daenerys parallels mostly with gendry begging arya to love him rather than being a fully-fleshed out character within season eight.  his only purpose is to love arya,  be made the trueborn son of robert & do little else.

what d&d forgot repeatedly is that dany is a negotiator before she is a beggar.  her worth is in her many titles:  the mother of dragons,  the bride of dragons,  the rightful heir to the iron throne.  she negotiates one dragon for an army of unsullied.  she negotiates her own marriage for peace in meereen.  for all the repeated foreshadowing within season seven & eight,  daenerys should have successfully negotiated a marriage pact with the king in the north, especially once learning about his true birth so that claims of him being the true inheritor of the throne could be avoided. but d&d would rather humiliate her character.

it’s misogyny that they have daenerys begging jon repeatedly throughout season eight to not tell anyone,  to love her,  to be with her even in the moments leading up to her death.  she’s presented as a dreamy fool stuck between tyrion’s all-knowing genius & jon’s impeccable honor.  even though they’re all painfully watered down,  daenerys suffers the most & becomes a fridged woman so that jon can mourn her painstakingly over the last twenty minutes of the final episode to show just how torn he is about doing “the right thing.”

[noeou]

can u elaborate more about what you feel of twst setting as a school?? i'd like to know why it makes u feel like that!

okay, disclaimer this is mainly my opinion cause im very picky for no good reason. this isn’t hate or anything, by the way.

one.) personalities. yes, i do blame personalities on setting, now this isn’t necessarily bout the nrc itself but the backgrounds of the characters.

the queen of hearts is not an exception to ‘we’re all mad here.’ i don’t think riddle should be as strict as he is, well actually, i think he is the right amount of strict but maybe he could be more insane?? not like a psycho, but yes psycho. i personally think that riddle would be much calmer and smiley, in a scarier way. he wouldn’t turn as red unless he’s upset, when flustered it’ll be a different kind of blushing. he probably won’t be easy to fluster, cause i don’t think he’d take compliments seriously. most he’d received were either mocking or forced, not really genuine. this has to do with my headcanon that the qoh killed her last lovers because of their ‘insincerity’ towards her, considering she’s mad i doubt she’s easy to genuinely love.

i haven’t watched the lion king, but i don’t think scar is actually asleep all the time. i know lions sleep a lot, but that’s because they already have everything. the ladies that bring food, shelter so forth. you could say leona has the same thing, but he doesn’t have the people’s respect. his brother has everything, if he’s like scar that should be something he wants. he wouldn’t sleep all the time, but plotting on how to get the one thing he doesn’t have.

hades sure as hell wasn’t shy in the slightest. he picked up persephone at a party and brought her home and kept her?? i’m not saying idia has to be a carbon copy, but i think (as heir to styx) he can survive without his little brother at his beck and call. if you want to look at the disney ver. HADES TOOK A GIRLS SOUL AND HAD HER SEDUCE A GOD SO HE COULD TAKE OVER THE HEAVENS!! bffr, idia aint shit.

i can go on in another post, these are three dorm leaders and things that stood out the most to me.

two.) it’s hard to see the characters that aren’t in the same dorm interact with each other. i know it happens in game but i just can’t picture anything other than it.

in the nrc, it feels as though everyone is competing with everyone. this probably is true to an extent actually, but in my mind it messes with the flow of dialogue. no one agrees with people out of their dorm (except maybe 1st years) and there is just constant bickering.

when writing im often forced to consider dynamics like this, which is near impossible if no one gets along! no new faces can show up, no new dynamics can be made... maybe im just being overdramatic.

three.) there's nothing to know about other character's backstories.

I LITERALLY COULD CARE LESS ABOUT LEONA RN TELL ME ABT RUGGIE!! each chapter, the dorm leader is the villain (jamil exception) so we only get to know about them. hate to say this, but that's boring asl.

we never get to a deep dive in ace or deuce or characters like that unless it's an event or something. new people won't be ble to learn their lore in the actual story (where it should be or at least in their cards, cause i can understand the story is already v long)

i hate having to look at the wiki for sprinkles of info about characters we talk to once or twice but do nothing for the plot (ehem, jack, you forgot him too huh.)

i could probably go on, but this already took way too long... sorry nonnie for making you wait months D:

[mononijikayu]

chapter xv.

chapter xv.

Rating: Semi - M

Warning: Targaryen Incest, Depictions of Blood;

Summary: In which MELLARA TARGARYEN reflects on living and her son AEGON BLACKMACE fighting through war;

[It was during the renewal of conflict in the Stepstones that haunted prince Aegon Blackmace for all his life forever. The loss of his dragon Aelyx whom he had bonded with since the cradle had been painful for him and he never recovered from such a loss. It had been the first time since Queen Rhaenys on Meraxes that a drgaon was killed with a scorpion bolt. The prince was injured, severely so that he was abed for more than three moons. His wife Princess Rhaenyra forbade her husband from returning, a command which he obeyed. This time of war in the Stepstones lasted for nearly six years and the prince spent only a year at most in the fighting. Though it had been short, it had been significant enough that lord Corlys Velaryon considered it a moment which had bought time for him and his fleet to contain the conflict from spreading to Westeros and at the same time, protected the trade across Narrow Sea.]

- maester aeron targaryen; adust

A D U S T   m a s t e r l i s t

< you and i burn together or we shall die trying >

chapter i  / chapter ii / chapter iii / chapter iv / chapter v

chapter vi / chapter vii / chapter viii / chapter ix / chapter x  

chapter xi / chapter xii / chapter xiii / chapter xiv / chapter xv

chapter xvi / chapter xvii / chapter xviii

Sleep had never come easy to his dwelling, endless dreams turning into endless nightmares that plagued him more than he would wish. Yet in these past days he was sure that it was because he had wanted it. There was no resentment in his heart, nor anger nor weariness. Rather, there was only bliss. Bliss in the arms of his beloved wife who embraced him, through flesh and through soul. Aegon Blackmace had wondered if he had truly ever been this at peace, been happier than this moment. 

In this beautiful quiet that was In his heart of hearts, the prince of Blackhall had not wanted to entertain the thought of leaving. He never wanted to leave this paradise formed within the woman he loved. But he has not forgotten his duty. He had not forgotten his promise. He was no oath breaker and he would not start now. Not even when there was temptation to rest his head forever at the bosom of his Rhaenyra. 

In a way, he felt like he was blessed that the women he had been given by the gods had been those that knew him well, had loved him well. They had understood that he was a man who followed his principle. He was a lot like his father in that regard, though he knows he takes after his mother’s sense of duty more than anything else. His father had scolded him for it, there was little sense of honor to be found in the realm of battlefield. Nor would it benefit him to come to see himself into a battle, knowing he had just wed. 

Aegon could not consider his father wrong. He had more experience in battle than he could ever have and he knew that his father still reeled from the past, haunted by the things he did not do and the things he did do. The prince found warmth in his chest knowing his father cared for him dearly, for his happiness. It was what his father had chosen for himself nowadays, renouncing all the games of wars and politics to be a husband, to be a father. To seek a life for himself that he had always wanted and been denied.

But he was not his father, no. 

He was Aegon Blackmace.

And he will do what he must.

"I thought that you still must pack, husband." Rhaenyra Targaryen whispered softly, the sound of Valyrian words came like spring to his ears. Her hands were wet with the heat of rose water. Her husband’s tenderness dwelled in her palm, his fingers laying there as she did upon his bare chest. “You asked me to remind you.”

“I conveniently forgot, wife.” He lowered his head, whispering softly in her ear in response. He could feel her smile from afar, which made him grin. He presses a kiss upon her temple. “Do not worry. I will pack later. For now, I wish to stay here. With you.”

“I wish you could stay longer.” She admits to him, a sigh releasing from her. “I understand it is what duty demands of you but I…”

“You should not filter yourself when you are disappointed about the occasion, my dragon flower.” Aegon allows his free fingers to dwell against her soft silver curls. “It is right for you to feel this way. After all, we had only been married a week and now I have to leave.”

“You already know of my disappointment and my worries.”

He let out a small smile. “Yet, my dearest, it does not mean you cannot express it out loud.”

She turns her head, looking up to him. “You are too accommodating to me, husband.”

“Well, it is a husband’s duty to love his wife dearly.”

Rhaenyra laughed, sitting upward and moved to face her husband. “I am truly grateful for you.”

His indigo eyes gazed warmly. “As am I of you, Rhaenyra. I am dearly happy. Truly.”

Moving towards her, he reached for her hand eagerly and held her warmly. His purple eyes dwelled on his wife as he placed a small embrace upon her fingers with his lips brushing against the wet countenance of each part. Rhaenyra quietly giggles, feeling her skin blessed with ticklish devotion. When he leaned forward to her, he watched her stop at the sight of numerous scars that had over his youth disfigured his pale skin. 

Each scar has a story he recalls too well, too easily. At times, he even sees it in his dreams. In her pale lilac eyes, he could see concern. He could see her grief in the thought that her husband would have to live through another battle which would no doubt litter his body in constellations of wounds and scars. 

Aegon Blackmace was for many years younger than his lady wife. Yet war had shaped the man he was, each battle and each skirmish had taught him to be much older. It was the trail of his wounds and bruises, his scars that had been the march of time. From the moment he became a knight at two and ten, the scent of life had been ash and smoke in a barren field. His daily bread was sword and mace. 

The scream of warriors, the clanking of metal - the scream of dragonfire, it was the lungs that had pushed his life through with oxygen. He would be lying if he said it was all he ever knew. Yet, he preferred this much more to war. This peace within these halls, being beside the woman who had claimed his heart - it was worth more to him than war. His gaze softened as he pulled her closer once more.

“You are thinking too much once again.” He whispers to her.

“I worry.” She mumbles against his chest, her fingers tracing the scars on his skin. “That in this war will cause you pain, hurt. Severe injuries even.”

“Hm.” Aegon could not disagree as he rubbed the edge of her back to soothe her. “Injuries cannot be avoided, wife.”

She pursed her lips tightly, anxiety all over her face. “I worry, husband. I would not be there and I….”

He released a soft sigh, kissing her temple. “I understand. But no matter the scar, I will come home. No matter what.”

“You better hold that promise dearly, husband.” She urges him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. Looking upwards to meet his eyes, her eyes were determined. “I mean it, Aegon. Promise me. Come home.”

“I promise.” He vowed, letting a small smile arch upon his lips. “I shall return.”

She smiled at him, nuzzling her head upon his shoulders.

Aegon Targaryen wrapped his arms around her in return.

He shall return home, no matter the cost.

The name-day celebrations for princess Mellara were held at Dragonstone. It had been something that many in the household had been excitedly awaiting, bustling servants carrying heavy silken cloths from Lys for tables, fine porcelain plates from Pentos and other utilities of exquisite value passing through halls as swiftly as they could through the deep caverns of molten stone steps that make up the keep themselves. Nobles whispered across the Storm Drum, wondering through what the rogue prince would have for them now. He had been the one entertaining everyone, comforting everyone in his own roguish way. For that she could be thankful. But she wished he was not stuck there, stuck in the wasteland of his own misery.

Mellara Targaryen could not help sigh as she stared at her husband, barking orders as though he was a general in the field once more. She could see the shaking hands of the servant girls at the echoes of her husband’s voice. It was always his nature to try and have a hand in controlling the matter of things. That was another nature to her husband, a nature he always wishes control over. Even when he cannot. 

The loss of Dragonstone's prince consort to war has thrown a shadow over the keep. The sun had not been shining as vividly as it ought to have when it rose every day, and the fog of the volcano mount had been actively lamenting indefinitely. It would rain severely at times, as though sobbing at the memory of Aegon's absence. It was sensed in the way the princess Rhaenyra had sobbed bitterly in her good-arms mother's throughout the many days that passed them, longing for her husband. They had been receiving little to no missives this past moon, unlike the past six moons before. Such had been a horrid sign, yet this had been unavoidable, she knows too well. Wars are a place oftentimes where peace cannot linger too long.

Through the years of her life, she had known the men in her life having to deal with the troubles across the realm. Her own princely father had been with his father and elder brothers during the fourth Dornish war. Her own husband had been king of the Narrow Sea and the Stepstones. Her son had been to war since he was a boy and certainly so he has yet to stop. Even with her fears, she knows he will not stop. Unlike her husband, it was not the interest of advancement that filled their son’s desire to war. It was his filial duty, his duty to the realm. Mellara could not help but feel overwhelmed as those feelings of confused anger and endless pride blended through her like a river crossing to the sea. 

She feels as though she wished she had not raised her son the way she had, being too eager to duty. She wished she had allowed him to be free from this gilded cage, to fly as the dragon he was. Free and unburdened. But she knew that she was happy that he understood his duty. He was the sword of this house, the shield of his wife. He knew it all too well, that is why he had gone to battle himself. Clutching her hands tightly together, the warmth passed around her as she restlessly allowed her fingernails to scratch across the palm of her hand. Biting the bottom of her lips, the thought of her son in danger scared her. The thought haunted her, she did not want to dwell into it for too long. Yet she knows she cannot help it, she was a mother after all.

She knew that is why her husband was eager to distract himself, taking hold of their son’s duties while he was gone. He too was still a father, a father who loved his only son just as much as any father. Mayhaps more than most fathers. Aegon was their only son, the only child they will ever have. To lose him, it would be a blow they would never be able to withstand. Not after all the many times they had failed to give life to the rest of their previous children. 

In each moment that had come, where they lost their children - the two of them held each other. Wept together to grieve. They could not do it anymore, to bury more children. To outlive their children. That’s what they feared the most, they talked of it through these moons. To lose their only son, they fear it completely. They were not there for their son, not even when they wanted to. They knew that they were much needed here. And yet such was still no relief for the both of them. In that moment she shut her eyes, she could feel her age catch up with her. Four and forty. Her father had never reached such an age. He died years before even forty summers, he was a mere five and thirty.  All these times, she could feel in her bones. 

“Don’t bite your lip too much.” Elmo Tully reminded her softly. Mellara blinked, watching him stand in front of her at the edge of the steps. “You’ll wound yourself.”

“I will not.” She says, reaching her hand to him. He snorts as he takes her hand. 

“You always say this and yet, you do.” He whispers to his wife, gently squeezing her hands. “Aegon will be fine. He has survived half a hundred battles, war even. He shall come home to us.”

The wind prickled at her eyes. 

The salt of the sea intervened.

Her lilac eyes suddenly felt wet.

“I thought you were with the children.” She changes the topic. “Playing and all that, grandfather.”

He rolls his eyes, causing her to grin. “I was, but I was going to grab the other one, so he can watch with me.”

Mellara shook her head, laughing. “You won’t be able to drag Daemon out of there, you know.”

“He’s too much in his head again, he needs to be toned down.”

She shook her head. “You wish for him to throttle you?”

Elmo laughed. “He may try.”

“Targaryens are restless, husband. Stubborn more so. I am certain he will throw you off the sea if you interfere with him.”

“I managed to gather our good-daughter from gloom  and now she’s laughing at the antics of the children.”  Elmo released a smirk from his lips, the shine of mischievous Tully eyes gleamed at her. “See for yourself!”

Mellara felt her eyes widened, moving her body to seek the sight of the beach. The children were running around across the sandbeds. Wooden swords were in the hands of Jace and Baelon, calling each other silly names as they threw hits with ample strength. Her own Tully boys were laughing loudly, making bets Rhaenyra sat by the foundation of rocky cliffs thrust across the sandy plains, young Joffrey in her lap singing songs. 

Rhaena held her dress upwards slightly as she and Daena ran across the retreating seafoam, young Luke chasing after them with soft calls. It made the princess miss Baela much more than she already did. Such a scene made her yearn for her son just as much as she took in the air of morn. She had wished that even her own mother was here, reveling in the peace that she had worked so hard for. Even with her yearning, Mellara could feel her lips twist in a small, genuine smile.

She had dreamt of days like these. Days where jovial days reigned over their family, she had longed for it too well. Taking in the breeze of the cold sea’s embrace, Mellara Targaryen could only gaze at the open sky. The same sky she had seen hundreds of times on dragonback, lurking at the wonder that could only be a miracle. The same skies she had been born into, the same skies she had lived life through this long life thus far. 

Mellara could only whisper a word of thanks to the fourteen flames, the gods who had always guided her, consoled her. The gods that had brought some small relief to her family at such a tough time. Mellara nodded, her smile widening even further as she heard her good-daughter call to her, smiling as she and baby Joffrey waved at her. A bubbling laughter released from her.

“Do not doubt me now, wife.” Elmo whips a finger in the air. “I’ll get that fool down here and we’ll sing you a greeting. Complete what we have of our family so far.”

She nodded at him, happy.

He presses a kiss on her check.

“Happy name - day, wife.” 

She grins.

The more men they lost, the more men they replaced them with. The more ships they burn, the more they bring reinforcing sails upon the shore. It was endless. He hated it. The soaring heat of dragonflame engulfed the already barren lands as they flew past, the Velaryon men cheering as the remaining men of the Triarchy retreated in the safety of the stone caverns across the rocky plains. It was always haunting, to have to watch it even from afar. It did not matter to Aegon if they were enemy company. It did not bring him joy to see it all happen before his eyes. Yet he must. There was no other way.

He is after all a dragon, and this is how dragons defend themselves. How dragons win. The heat was excruciating, melting each and every flesh it touched into rotten ash. The smell of it all was worse to him, as though it was endless nauseating leather burning putridly. It passed through his nose as he circled through, watching the massacre he had created through dragonfire. But there was no turning back. This was duty. This was war. And he knew that. He knew that too well. Aegon Blackmace hissed as he held his reins tightly, Aelyx soaring slightly higher as the screaming continued. 

He soared too lowly, he knew and so did Aelyx.

Aelyx screeches as more dragonfire is sung.

Flame eagerly releases with horrific vigor.

Aelyx shrieked as he watched the clouds rise with them, as if she sensed something. Aegon leaned forward, holding Aelyx's hand as she soared over the little base of awkward boulders heaped on top of each other. He took a long breath, as if to reassure himself that everything would be fine. That things will go according to plan. Yet, something within him had been telling him something.  He could not point it out, he could not think to say it. He was exhausted, as was Aelyx. But this was not something they could not handle. They had gone through this before. He worries for naught most days. Aelyx is a veteran of many battles, hardened by the years of  fighting as she grew massively through endless years alongside him. 

It shall all be well, just like all days. 

He allows his hand to pet the beast further, cooing at her silently as she breathed fire on the open caverns, burning the metal combining the flesh of men like burning candles. Urging Aelyx, they took flight once more. Aelyx let her wings guide her through the wind like battered shields against the thrust of a hundred blades. Arrows pelted her skin, but they did not affect her. She turned her head, her crown spurned with majesty as she gleamed them with dragonflame once more, fleeing men staggering with fear and back within the caverns. 

“That is enough.” He whispered in his native tongue. “Come, my love. Back, now.”

Aelyx sang back to him, as though agreeing with him. 

Aegon patted her thankfully.

It was a mistake.

He knew it was.

Yet he did nothing.

Aegon Blackmace screamed.

Aelyx screeched in pain.

A scorpion bolt in her eye.

Aegon Blackmace felt his eyes shatter wide with horror as he reached towards the reins. The air feels like a thousand shattering daggers piercing through his body as Aelyx spun, fear in her eyes as she tries to regain control. Aegon hissed as he pulled and pulled at the leather reins, his hands starting to turn red. Blood danced against the wind, gushing through the pelt of her rider’s armor. All the sudden the color of his own flesh was scarlet skies on the sunset. 

As though like a hurricane, his she-beast spun through panicked in pain. The strangled cries were what made him feel his heart break. She screamed with dragonfire, hitting everywhere through the punching air. He gritted his teeth as he started to whisper prayers in his mind. He whispered a prayer for his men, that they would come out of this alive. He prayed for a quick death, one where his bones would still be intact for his family. He swallowed heavily. His family. 

The thought of Rhaenyra’s soft smiles, her loving warmth, her stubbornness. His father’s stern nature, his sharp wit, his deep laughter. His mother’s affection, her devotion, her grace. His heart turned heavier at the thought of the children, their innocence would be shattered at another death. He felt the tears pierce through his cheeks painfully as he bit his lips tightly. He could see the men screaming, some of them were rushing towards the sight of him. Aegon shook his head as he placed both hands on Aelyx, as though he was embracing her. As though he was thanking her. As though he was telling her to let go. Telling her that he was with her till the end of it all. 

“I am not leaving you, good girl.” He promises her in High Valyrian, one last time. “We’ll go together. As we always have.”

He closed his eyes.

Bracing for it all.

'Forgive me, Rhaenyra.’

[magpiejay1234]

Some more odd thoughts from early DK-BC DM rewatch:

*Player Killer in the Darkness definitely inspired both Haou and Z-ARC. Haou’s castle is basically inspired by Castle of Dark Illusions, and Z-ARC’s design takes a lot of inspiration from PK’s monsters.

*Obviously, the infamous glowing Atem silhouette that appears in the 4K dub’s opening, from the latter part of Impersonator Duel, clearly inspired Yuya’s Berserk design. I didn’t notice this before, because I was too focused on the Haou-style pupilless eyes.

*Ghost Kotsuzuka’s aniki gimmick obviously transferred to Sho, for better and for worse. There isn’t much of a difference between Masumi Suzuki’s Kotsuzuka voice and Sho voice, though, if any.

*Keith’s card vest obviously inspired Misawa’s card vest, and Cronos’ as well.

*Since Battle City episodes were not in syndication in my country, I never got why DMG looked like an Aryan Nation poster. I finally got the explanation, Mana’s DMG design is supposed to be based off Pandora’s girlfriend, Catherine.

*The rainbow background for Gate Guardian’s combination seems to have inspired Neo Space’s design. Makes sense, Neo-Spacians are all about Contact Fusion, and Gate Guardian is basically the first proto-Contact Fusion.

*Kind of hilarious how both proto-Contact Fusions, Gate Guardian and Valkyrion the Magna Warrior, are instead Main Deck Special Summon Monsters in the actual card game and later animé. Granted Gate Guardian might get a Fusion retrain in Maze of Memories, so that leaves only Valkyrion.

*Kajiki vs. Jonouchi definitely inspired the whole “Action Duel” thing in the first season of ARC-V.

*Jonouchi got Fortress Whale but not Fortress Whale’s Oath, lol. I mean, he can still Summon him by other means, but that’s kind of a dumb move. Also, Red-Eyes Fortress Whale when? The thing already has a counterpart and two retrains, this one should be an obvious one. Give us Red-Eyes Parasite Paracide and Insect Queen too.

*Animé adaptation definitely tries to make Mask of Light and Mask of Darkness a gay couple, with all the aibou talk. It works honestly. I don’t think they were this important or competent in the manga though. I wonder if this was a marketing thing (since their cards are the cover cards for Spell of Mask, one of the OCG sets), since they don’t use some of their cards like Nuvia I think, though I think it might have been one of the destroyed Set monsters. At least that’s what the Wikis suggest.

*I already said this before I think, but Rica Matsumoto definitely tries to differentiate between her Bakura, Yami Bakura and Satoshi voices early on, but as series continues they just become different versions of her Satoshi voice. So, she just gives up. Not sure if high pitched Satoshi voice for Yami Bakura is better than her old hag voice in Season 1.

*I didn’t realize how important Gaia the Dragon Champion was for both Haga and Player Killer duels, but obviously it becomes less important later on. At least it explains why Elemental HERO Flame Wingman and Odd-Eyes Vortex Dragon are designed the way they are.

Chimera the Flying Mythical Beast isn’t as important for Battle City or fillers, if anything it was more important in GX. Though that makes some sense considering how long it took for it to get printed in the OCG, and later on the TCG.

*Oh and the whole “Boy” gag with Judai in GX is based off Mai’s nickname for Katsuya, “Boy”. And of course, Rio’s eyebands are based off Shizuka’s, even though the contexts for both of them are very different. Yoshida really wanted to milk nostalgia in ZEXAL huh. At least in GX, with Titan and Player Killers for example, you had a proper context.

Edit:

*One more final note I forgot, but in Duelist Kingdom there are fields with multiple effects based on percentages, with opposing sides often having different effects (though there is one case with three effects). This obviously inspired the later ARC-V era rule change of having multiple Field Spells for each Field Zone, which wasn’t a thing until that time. Kind of funny how insane rules of Duelist Kingdom actually inspire more cards and rule changes than the more balanced Battle City, which still has tons of unprinted cards, like Pandora’s Beckon to Darkness, which for some reason seems to have inspired Necroshade’s design.

[toa-kirhan]

First time watching ToH S1E10 (Escape of the Palisman). Thoughts below:

Detailed thoughts:

Learning the Bat Queen’s backstory almost got me to tear up. A very touching, humanizing moment for one of the characters I least expected to have one.

The tragedy of the Bat Queen lies in what she is: a palisman. Although its never explained to us, it doesn’t need to be: a palisman is a pal to its creator first and foremost and a talisman second.

The fact that the Bat Queen was abandoned by her creator, as if she was just an object, a broken tool that needed to be replaced, is heartbreaking. The fact that the Bat Queen found the strength to seek and protect other like her who were abused and neglected like her is heartwarming, and ties into the show’s ongoing themes of identity and solidarity. As Luz says in E1, “us weirdos have to stick together,” which is exactly what the Bat Queen does.

After what she’s been through, its impossible to fault the Bat Queen for not wanting Owlbert to go back to what seems to be a neglectful home life living w/ someone whose actions led to him being physically harmed. The Bat Queen sees who she used to be in Owlbert, and wants to protect them.

While I found the Bat Queen’s willingness to protect Owlbert from the start to be admirable, I have to extend that same admiration to Luz. At any point, Luz could listened to her friends and went back to get Eda, but to Luz, the Bat Queen’s trials are more than just saving Owlbert. Luz needs to show Owlbert and the Batqueen, prove to them, that she cares about him. More than anything else, it’s a matter of trust.

Thinking over the B plot w/ King, I can see that the writers wanted to create a parallel between Luz and King’s actions this episode, since both end up using one of their friends for their own goals, who follow their lead out of a sense of trust, only for them to inadvertently break it later on and spend the rest of the episode trying to regain it, but I’m not entirely convinced.

Luz’s actions do end up being more nuanced than King’s considering that Luz’s motive wasn’t entirely self-centered (as she also wanted to make things up to Willow and Gus, who would be missing the game because of her) and because she go to to get permission from Eda (although whether she actually believed King’s word that Eda approved or just rationalized that she did is less clear).

Speaking of Eda, there’s still a lot of mystery surrounding her curse. Considering that Eda's vision/memory is now causing her to disassociate in public, while the elixir can only bring her back w/ an emotional prompt, I have a feeling that we’ll be getting another curse-focused episode next.

General thoughts:

Bonesborough: home to a well-funded public library and children’s Slayground, but also a giant dilapidated track over the town. 2/3′s not bad.

Owlbert is precious ;v;

Eda made Owlbert confirmed! Owlbert’s a Palisman, made from the branch of an ancient tree. I suppose this confirms that witches make their own personalized staves (which reinforces the idea that Eda’s always been into owls).

Eda doesn’t know anything about her curse but has had it for “longer than [Luz was] alive.”

We’ve got the name of a new location outside of Bonesborough: Glandus High.

Hooray for sport!

When does Luz get her own school uniform? Sure she gets some Hexside pride clothes immediately after I wrote that, but I’m talking robes!

Living dragon longship bus.

Willow’s parents work. That doesn’t tell me much, but that + the comment about the abomination track having more opportunities seems to indicate that Willow isn’t from an influential family like Amity.

Eda needs to get more elixir considering she’s already down to one bottle again. Nevermind, the elixir doesn’t do jack anymore.

Owlbert ;_;

The Bat Queen returns! I forgot to mention it before, but the Bat Queen reminds me of Countess Ruby from Scary Godmother.

Spider demon w/ udders. Hmm...

The demon hunters work for animal control now? No one is safe from the economic pressures of capitalism.

Gus is halfway there to becoming an escape artist!

The Bat Queen is a palisman? ;_;

The boo-boo buddy club grows!

Owlbert a horrible liar confirmed.

[jessource]

sentence starters: emails i can’t send.

rp sentence starters from sabrina carpenter’s, emails i can’t send.  ( part two )

how many things.

“you used a fork once.”

“it turns out forks are fuckin’ everywhere.”

“there’s no hiding from the thought of us.”

“i got ways to find you anywhere.”

“we sat on the roof once.”

“and we talked until the sun came up.

“i wish we stayed just like we were up there.”

“i consider you, i’m not trying to.”

“i can’t help it, it’s a habit.”

“your corner in my mind is well established.”

“i wonder how many things you think about before you get to me.”

“i wonder how many things you wanna do.”

“i feel myself falling further down your priorities.”

“i still make excuses for you constantly.”

“remember when you left once? that never made too much sense to me.”

“it hurt you so bad, hurting me.”

“you really came to me sympathy.”

“am i not even a second thought?”

“i wonder how many things.”

bet u wanna.

“told me i’m your only.”

“it’s all unfolding, babe.”

“slowly, slowly.”

“lies you sold me all saw the light of day.”

“you been wasting time on the other side.”

“if your satisfied, touché.” 

“now you say you hate all the empty space.”

“if you could go back you’d stay.”

“didn’t think about it when you let me down.”

“hurts to see me out of your reach.”

“bet you wanna touch me now.”

“it’s cold out there.”

“let me know what you found.”

“bet you wanna love me now.”

“chase me.”

“that’s right, baby.”

“is it feeing all your fears?”

“i bet you wanna.”

“bet you miss me.”

“bet you’re reminiscing.”

“i bet you hate the way that you said goodbye.”

“you still can’t even tell me why.”

“i hate the way you left me dry.”

“i’ll keep that between you and i.”

“oh, touch me now.”

nonsense.

“think i only want one number in my phone.”

“i might change your contact to don’t leave me alone.”

“you said you like my eyes, you like to make ‘em roll.”

“treat me like a queen.”

“i can’t help myself.”

“when you get close to me, baby my tongue goes numb.”

“sounds like bleh, blah, bleh.”

“i don’t want no one else.”

“baby i’m in too deep.”

“here’s a lil song i wrote.”

“it’s about you and me.”

“i’ll be honest.”

“looking at you got me thinkin’ nonsense.”

“cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in.

“when you got your arms around me, oh it feels so good.”

“i think i got an ex but i forgot him.”

“i can’t find my chill, i must have lost it.”

“i don’t even know i’m talking nonsense.”

“i’m talking.”

“i’m talking, i’m talking, i’m talking, all around clock.”

“i’m talking hope nobody knocks.”

“i’m talking opposite of sot.”

“i’m talking wild, wild thoughts.”

“you gotta keep up with me.”

“i caught the L-O-V-E.”

“how do you do this to me?”

“i bet your house is where my other sock is.”

“woke up this morning thought i’d write a pop hit.”

“how quickly can you take your clothes off pop quiz.”

fast times.

“sun’s up too soon.”

“mixed emotions are congregating.”

“sky looks so purple.”

“i can taste it.”

“i call you baby.”

“three stories up here contemplating.”

“what the fuck is patience?”

“these are fast times and fast nights.”

“no time for rewrites.”

“we couldn’t help it.”

“give me a second to forget i ever really meant it.”

“closed eyes and closed blinds.”

“my feelings used to be serrated.”

“tiptoeing past so many stages.”

skinny dipping.

“it’ll be a wednesday.”

“i’ll be going in this coffee shop.”

“and i look up from my phone and think there’s no chance it’s you, but it is.”

“you’ll say, ‘hi’, i’ll say, ‘hi, how are you?’”

“how’s your family? how’s your sister?”

“(name)’s being (name).”

after a minute of nonsensical chatter.”

“well, this was really nice, maybe we should do this on purpose sometime.”

“arguments in your garage.”

“all the ways we sabotaged it.”

“what it was and what it wasn’t.”

“we’ve been swimming on the edge of a cliff.”

“i’m resistant, but going down with the ship.”

“it’d be so nice, right?”

“if we could take it all off and just exist.”

“skinny dip in water under the bridge.”

“you’ll suggest a restaurant we used to go to.”

“won’t that be too nostalgic?”

“maybe, but let’s do it anyway.”

“we won’t sit at our same old table, i promise.”

“we won’t bring up the past, we’ll keep it bureaucratic.”

“and we won’t say it.”

“we’ll be thinking about how different we are from those scared little kids.”

“we’ve been swimming on the edge of a cliff.”

bad for business.

“he’s good for my heart, but he’s bad for business.”

“tears me apart when he grants my wishes.”

“all of my friends think i’ve gone crazy.”

“they don’t know me like my baby.”

“we look good in photographs.”

“i like the way you like to laugh at dirty jokes.”

“used to get to work on time, but now you’re taking up my nights.”

“never been so glad to be so tired.”

“oh, i’m mad for you.”

“it’s sad but true and i know it.”

“you’re on my mind.”

“you stole my life and it’s showin.”

“will anybody sing along?”

“you had to go and break into my head.”

“and i would try to fight these feelings.”

“i can’t find a single reason.”

“i’d make all the same mistakes again.”

“he’s good.”

“it’s bad.”

“the best i’ve ever had.”

“and he’s so nice.”

“it’s sad.”

“he ruined all my plans.”

“he just makes me so crazy.”

“i know everyone sees.”

“he’ll be the death of me.”

decode.

“you’re good at the falling, not the staying there.”

“you’re good at the giving too much then getting scared.”

“you’re good at impersonating someone who cares.”

“you had me for a minute there.”

“now i wonder why.”

“i let your confusion keep me up at night.”

“i’m so tired.”

“re-read every single undertone and i over analysed it.”

“where else can we go?”

“there’s nothing left here to decode.”

“done lookin’ for the signs in the gaps and the silence.”

“it’s just getting cold.”

“there’s a weight off my shoulders now that i don’t chase you.”

“being myself, did that emasculate you?”

“learning from you that i can walk away too.”

“i let your indecision keep me up at night.”

“unpacked every single word you wrote and i over analysed it front back and beside it.”

“there’s nothing.”

[the-big-dissapoint]

Hey guys Diss here with more art, specifically Kirby ocs/fankids. (Actually made this last year, but forgot to post it to tumblr… (;v;)b) I know that this might be considered “cringe”, but damnit I worked really hard on their designs and I’m still pretty proud of how they turned out…

Now on to the fankids themselves, first off is Lynne. He’s the son of Kirby and Ribbon, also a Star Warrior/Fairy hybrid. He’s not the biggest fan of adventuring, and very shy. Overall a introvert, who tends to prefer to talk things out then fighting. Lynne can only use the copy abilities from Kirby 64, also he has something of a rivalry with Nami. (So uh due to some headcanons, Lynne was born a bit differently then most. For starters Star Warriors/Puffballs have two methods of reproduction, the normal way and with an act of pure love. Lynne was born when Kirby did the latter when he kissed Ribbon.)

Next up is the other Kirby and Ribbon fankid, Silk. Lynne’s older sister, and pure Star Warrior. (Silk was born from a wish that Ribbon and Kirby made to Nova, so she’s a bit different than Lynne. Nova used both Kirby and Ribbon’s dna, but made a couple of changes.) She’s pretty protective of her younger brother, and wants to become a great warrior someday. Currently she trains under Meta Knight, her copy abilities are good but nowhere near as versatile as her father’s.

Next is the son and daughter of Marx and Gryll. Fry and Terri, respectively. Fry is more of a mime than a jester, preferring to let his actions speak for him. Terri takes more after Marx, and is a witch in training. Both of them have quite the magical capabilities, but Fry prefers not to rely on his powers too much.

Next we have the daughter of King Dedede and Queen Ripple/Ripplestar Queen, Nami. She’s Lynne’s self proclaimed rival, and enjoys challenging him. Truth be told she sees her rivalry with Lynne as more of a friendly competition than a real rivalry… Nami can be pretty impulsive, but tends to stick with her gut when things get dangerous. She’s actually far more introverted than she appears, preferring to stick with her small group of friends than be around large crowds or talk to new people. She’s a hybrid, just like Lynne. However it’s far different than his, Nami appears to be far more similar to a harpy, than a Penguin/Fairy hybrid…

Next is the mysterious heir of 02, Nil. He was created after 02’s was forcefully torn from possessing Queen Ripple/Ripplestar Queen by Kirby and Ribbon. Nil was created to be 02’s potential heir and ruler of Dark Matter in case he was destroyed for good. He yearns for his “father’s” praise, and wants to show 02 that he is more than just a simple backup plan…. Nil is currently in charge of observing other worlds and planets, to see if they’re compatible for the Dark Matter species to inhabit as a true “home world”. During one of these journeys, he recently met his “half-sister” Nami and her friends. Hybrid as well, although he sees himself as more Dark Matter than fairy…

Next is Sol Dee, son of Bandana Dee and a Burning Leo. He looks up to his dad, and sees him as a personal hero. Like his dad, Sol trains regularly to hone his skills properly. He’s also part of Nami’s friend group, and loves to hang out with Lynne and Silk. Also he’s a hybrid like Lynne, Nami, and Nil, specifically that of a Waddle Dee/Burning Leo.

Next up is the current princess of Patchland, Felt. Daughter of Gooey and Prince Fluff, she’s a hybrid as well as the others. Far more laidback like her dad Gooey, and enjoys spending her time exploring and making new friends. Felt is part of Nami’s group of friends, and spends most of her time going to and from Dreamland on adventures. Despite being born and raised in Patchland, she enjoys Dreamland just as much and considers it her “second home”.

Lastly we have the daughter of Dark Meta Knight and Parallel Susie, Cerise. Great at swordsmanship like her father, she practices with sword fighting daily. Cerise is quite mature, and behaves rather nobly despite her upbringing. In contrast to her father, she prefers not to use any dirty tactics when fighting. Like her mother, Cerise is a natural at persuading others to her side. Also a hybrid like the others, but seems to take more after Susie’s side of the family…

Anyway, hope you enjoy the art. And have a great day. (^v^)b

[yellowsocialbunny]

targaryen sims portraits pt. V

Princess Rhaenys Targaryen was a great beauty. She had black hair and lilac eyes. By the time Rhaenys was fifty-five, she had a lean, lined face, and her black hair was streaked with white. She was a clever, capable, spirited, proud, fierce and fearless woman. She had a fiery temperament. Rhaenys wore steel and copper armor which flashed in the sun.

Lord Corlys Velaryon was a proud man. He was hailed as the greatest seafarer the Seven Kingdoms had ever known. Corlys was said to be as brilliant as he was restless, and as adventurous as he was ambitious. Though he accomplished much and more in life, he was seldom satisfied. Corlys was known to be intractable, even in old age. He was remembered as wise in peace and valiant in war.

King Viserys Targaryen was a peaceful man who hated conflict, and was plump and pleasant. He was described as amiable, open-handed, and eager to please. Though Viserys was never considered strong willed, he was not pliable or indecisive either; when he made a choice, he was unwavering, and firmly stood by his decision. King Viserys’s generosity was legendary, and the Red Keep became a place of song and splendor during his reign. Viserys was well loved by lords and smallfolk alike. Viserys sported a bushy, silver-gold mustache, and wore the crown of his grandfather, Jaehaerys I Targaryen.

Queen Aemma Arryn Aemma was the fifth child of Lord Rodrik Arryn, and the only one by his second wife, Princess Daella Targaryen, herself the daughter of King Jaehaerys I Targaryen and his sister-wife Alysanne Targaryen. Aemma’s mother died in childbed. In 97 AC, Aemma gave birth to a healthy daughter, Princess Rhaenyra. Aemma and Viserys both adored their only living child. In early 105 AC, Aemma became pregnant once more. Late in the year, she gave birth to a son, Prince Baelon Targaryen. Aemma died during the birth, and her son died a day later.

Prince Daemon Targaryen was described by Maester Yandel as dashing, daring, and dangerous, but mercurial and quick to take offense. Archmaester Gyldayn wrote that Daemon was ambitious, impetuous, and moody, as charming as he was hot-tempered. Daemon was a renowned warrior skilled in the joust, hunting, and swordplay. Daemon had silver hair and wore plate armor. While Commander of the City Watch of King’s Landing, he wore a gold cloak and a surcoat depicting the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen. He wielded Dark Sister, a Valyrian steel sword, and rode Caraxes.

Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen had her family’s Valyrian looks, wearing her silver-gold hair in a long braid in the manner of Queen Visenya Targaryen. Rhaenyra had a large bosom, but never lost the weight she gained from pregnancies, and she had grown stout and thick of waist at the age of twenty after her third pregnancy. Rhaenyra was proud and stubborn, and there was a certain petulance to her small mouth. Though she could be charming, Rhaenyra was quick to anger and never forgot a slight. Rhaenyra always dressed richly, favoring purple and maroon velvets and golden Myrish lace in intricate patterns. Her bodice often glittered with pearls and diamonds, and there were always rings on her fingers. During the Dance of the Dragons, she wore the crown of her father, Viserys I, which had first been worn by King Jaehaerys I Targaryen.

descriptions by A Wiki of Ice and Fire

[uptownhags]

a story about how tumblr user uptownhags is gonna mind her business. i’m v sorry if you are on mobile and forced to take this wild ride. 

context from a long time ago: sister has a TBI, starts medication, has impaired judgement and memory problems for several years. NOT CUTE, there are major consequences. ‘that never happened,’ ‘idk what you’re talking about,’ still come up in the year 2022. but it wasn’t her fault. 

2017: seeing this guy we called [pick a name] who is also the closest friend i’ve ever had. he’s a lil younger than me, a lil fun™. he gets in a car crash.  he made a bad choice. in hospital, has a TBI. starts medication for migraines, etc. it’s the same one. he is going thru it, is super vulnerable with me, tells me a LOT of serious things. i reciprocate. we’re still walking around with each other’s big secrets. he has memory trouble, but it’s manageable.  2018: i formally meet his brother’s whole sweet family and his cool as hell uncle. my mom and brother love him. ‘i didn’t know that,’ ‘i’m sorry i forgot,’ etc. are a regular thing, but he still makes plans and speeches. he’s a lil salty. doubles meds. physically sick a whole lot, but i know how to handle it.   early 2019:  we name our eventual kids. we celebrate ‘future mothers’ day’ and talk about a tiny back yard wedding with [cutest bb] as flower girl. ‘his parents will come around.’ fall 2019: while i’m out of town, his mother sets him up with a more suitable ((rich af; lawyer)) woman in a different city who shares his culture. it’s v unexpected for all 3 of us. the light in his eyes is gone. we have 2 months of conversations about all the things we’ve been through. he is fuzzy on moments that i consider big. he knows he loves me, but is not totallyyy 100% sure what got us here. he is devastated and cries into my hair. the lawyer friend requests me. it turns out we have mutual friends and i don’t say shit to most people. [pick a name] and i are ‘pals, it’s fine.’  [for 6 months]: i am kind of an asshole privately and say/let my friends and fam say terrible things about the whole situation. who among us has not? pls note 1 or 2 of them were correct, for example he is kinda little. the worst insult queen of tx has is ‘she didn’t trust that gorgeous dumbass to be on time.’ he explains changing his treatment, and he is sober. we remain cordial but, understandably, it is weird. c*vid hits, he travels twice to bring his parents to/from his brother’s house, we stop talking, and he’s not on social media.  last week: i have a conversation with his family about art and maybe continuing their kiddos’ portrait series bc it’s their favorite thing. bb is ‘an artist like me.’ they are all doing very well. his parents are mostly back in their home country. there have been no real developments in his relationship (aka he never put a ring on it). has some new, different friends. he texts me to check if i’m okay, when i’m home alone and sick. we talk on NYE and day. he would like to meet for a friendly coffee. i haven’t said yes to the art or the coffee.