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sapphire-writes · 1 year

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Down in Flames (modern!HOTD) 3

previous ~ next ~ series masterlist

pairing: modern!Aegon x Reader & modern!Aemond x Reader

summary: Tensions rise with the band as Otto Hightower runs them ragged with recording the album. You and Aegon come to a breaking point (no like for real this time you swear).

rating: Explicit

warnings: spicy stuff below the cut, choking, p in v, language, physical fighting, y'all if this isn't your thing I beg you just scroll past

word count: 4.8k

note: what an innocent lil gif for this part lmao hope you enjoy it!! loving writing this story and reading your reblogs & comments 💚

masterlist

You text Cregan when you get back to the apartment. You received an eager text from him almost immediately after entering your Uber. Baela egged you on, Rhaena laughing maniacally as she did. Truly a menacing pair the two of them can be.

“He liiiiikes you,” Rhaena slurred, shaking her hips, “seriously you should have seen him watching while we were dancing. Practically drooling”

Heat floods to your cheeks as you remember Aemond’s gaze, the way he was watching you. The feeling of his hand on your arm.

Jesus Christ. The drinks have gone to your head tonight because there is no way you’re blushing, no way your thighs are clenching together at the thought of Aemond Targaryen.

“Text him this! Text him this,” Baela says, holding her hands out for dramatic effect, “please Cregan, fuck me till I can’t remember the name of my shitty ex.”

You throw a pillow at Baela who catches it with ease, stuffing it under her elbows.

“Bae you are in rare form tonight!” you accuse, laughing all the same. Baela groans, stuffing her face into the pillow.

“I just want my girl to get some!” she says, voice muffled by the pillow. Rhaena laughs, reaching into a bag of chips you all have been sharing. Baela lifts her head, eyes wide.

“When is the last time you were fucked?” Baela demands to know, pointing a finger at you.

You remember. A few weeks ago. After a heated argument, of course. You and Aegon had made up, leading to angry sex in his room.

“Couple weeks ago I guess-” you begin to answer but Baela shakes her head.

“No no no,” she says, “when was the last time you were fuuucked.”

You glance at Rhaena who is stifling a laugh, watching her buzzed sister speak her words of wisdom.

“Bae, we are not following,” Rhaena says snickering. Baela rolls her eyes, and takes a sip from the water bottle she keeps on her nightstand.

“You know what I mean,” Baela continues, “like really fucked, like the kind of sex that makes your brain leak from your ears. Earth shattering. Mind blowing.”

You understand what she means. Maybe in the earlier days of your relationship with Aegon it had been like that. Passionate, raw, love making. But you hate to admit, it hasn’t been like that in a while. Even with the anger.

“I don’t know,” you tell her, a nervous smile on your lips, “a while, I guess.”

Baela nods, like she already knew the answer.

“So text this burly, beefy man,” she begins, “and get, fuuucked.”

“Okay crazy!” you tell her, snagging a chip from Rhaena, “I will, not tonight though.”

Baela reaches for the chips, Rhaena holds the bag out to her.

“Thank you! Finally,” Baela says.

The rest of the night is spent giggling and sharing stories until the sun begins to peek through the clouds. Only then do you find sleep, and for the first time in weeks it is utterly blissful.

It was Baela who found herself at the studio early before the rest of the band arrived. Lounging on the couch she helped herself to an old issue of Cosmopolitan, flipping through the glossy pages. Snickering she dogeared a page to show you when you arrived.

The doors open Aemond strutting through them. Even his walk is arrogant.

“Found him,” Aemond said.

Aegon trails behind him, looking disheveled.

“Where was he?” Baela asks.

Aemond glances around the room.

“Y/N here?”

Baela shakes her head, not looking up from her magazine.

“Not yet, she’ll be here soon.”

“Silk Street,” Aemond says.

Baela’s head snaps up. The fucking strip club. She meets Aemond’s eye, his expression nonchalant. Baela’s mouth twists into anger as she turns her head to look at Aegon, who now sits on the edge of the stage with his head in his hands.

Baela rises from the couch, moving towards him.

“You piece of shit,” she says, curling her magazine and reeling backward, ready to strike him.

Aemond is quicker. He sprints forward grabbing her wrist, and twisting her away from his brother.

“I know,” Aegon moans looking up, eyes glassy, “you should fucking let her.”

“Let me go!” Baela says, tugging free from Aemond.

Luke enters from the other room, hearing the commotion. His eyes widen as he sees Aegon and takes in the scene in front of him.

“Leave her alone!” Luke says, moving to stand between Baela and Aemond.

Aemond looks at Luke incredulously.

“Fuck off,” Aemond says pushing Luke away from him.

Jace enters next with Helaena, watching as Luke stumbles backward. Helaena’s face crumples in confusion at the scene, as Baela grabs a vase attempting the launch it at Aegon. Helaena dashes forward, hands around the glass as Baela struggles against her grip.

“Stop!” Jace says coming to his brother’s aid, and pushing Aemond in the chest.

Aemond smiles at him, as though he was waiting for an excuse to release his frustration on the brothers. He pushes Jace who falls to the floor.

Luke moves to get towards Aemond once more, and Aegon leaps from the stage, grabbing Luke by the scruff of the neck and slamming him against the body of the piano.

“Aegon, stop!” Rhaena says as she enters the room amidst the chaos.

Baela stands between Jace and Aemond, as they continue to taunt each other.

You are the last to arrive, hurrying faster down the hallway at the sound of yelling. Your eyes widen at the fighting.

“Aegon!” you yell, running over to pull him off of Luke.

“Stop! Everyone stop it!” Baela shouts, as Otto Hightower enters the room and everyone falls silent.

Otto has that energy about him, his presence like a soothing balm on a burn. Aemond stands straighter immediately, Aegon backing up a few paces. Luke rubs his jaw which now glows red.

“Hardly the behavior of professionals,” Otto says in a chilling voice, “let alone a family.”

“Sorry,” Jace mutters, looking towards the floor.

Rhaena grabs your hand, directing you towards the sofa. Helaena is the only one who approaches Otto, arms open to embrace him.

“Thanks for coming,” she says, voice dreamlike, holding none of the stress that the room holds.

“We’ve got a lot of work to do,” Otto tells her, “and it needs to be done quickly. I don’t want any more fighting. Nothing that delays this being completed, is that clear?”

Aegon cracks his jaw, his eyes half-lidded as he nods. Aemond jerks his head in a quick nod. Jace is glaring at Aemond, but nods as well, his younger brother following his example.

“I need you to be perfect,” Otto says, putting a finger under Helaena’s chin.

She smiles at him, a whimsical expression on her face. Her smile isn’t a happy one, it is rather melancholic.

“Of course,” Helaena murmurs, and Otto walks by her, to stand in front of Aegon.

Aegon does not meet his gaze, looking anywhere but Otto. Otto looks down at him, taking in Aegon’s disheveled state. He can smell the lingering booze, see the glitter that speckles his flesh like small diamonds catching the light. Even from across the room you notice the fresh hickies that adorn Aegon’s neck causing your stomach to turn.

Otto makes a face of disgust before speaking.

“And you,” he says, looking at the man in front of him.

Aegon lifts his red-rimmed eyes towards his grandfather. Otto reaches a hand out, fingers brushing against Aegon’s swollen cheekbone. Aegon winces at his touch.

“I need you to be perfect,” Otto says, his voice eerily calm. Aegon’s lower lip trembles, but he nods all the same.

“Aegon, Helaena, come with me,” Otto says, starting towards the door, “I want recordings of isolated vocals, and the rest of the band ready to record in two hours.”

He stops at the door.

“707 King’s Road. Two hours,” Otto finishes, signaling to Aegon and Helaena.

Helaena hurriedly collects her notebooks and pens, shoving them into her canvas tote. Aegon looks towards you, his eyes glassy as he meets your furious expression. He’s cheated. Again. Well is it really cheating at this point?

In your mind you have broken up, but Aegon was still running around under the impression that you are still a couple. Do you even have a leg to stand on? You did give Cregan your number. You don’t even know what to say at this point, but luckily you don’t have to. Helaena moves toward her brother, lacing her fingers through his.

“Okay?” she asks, searching the face of her elder brother.

“Uh-huh,” Aegon says, as she begins to lead him from the room. And then they are gone.

The room is silent for a moment. Baela looks at you, as Rhaena moves towards Luke.

“Shit, Luke, your face,” she says, bringing a hand to touch his swollen jaw. Luke flinches, but lets her examine him.

“His fucking fault,” he snaps, glaring at Aemond.

Aemond tilts his head to the side, as though waiting for a reason to continue fighting.

“He was attacking Baela!” Luke continued, and Aemond moves towards him.

“Stop it!” Baela shouts, commanding the attention of the room, “no one attacked me. I attacked Aegon if anything.”

“Aegon?” you say, speaking for the first time since arriving, “why?”

Baela looks at you, before her eyes briefly glance at Aemond. You turn to face him.

“What?” you question.

You hate feeling like there is a secret in the room that everyone is aware of but you. Aemond meets your eyes but doesn’t say anything. You raise your eyebrows at him.

“He was at Silk Street,” Baela says reluctantly, “that’s where he was all night.”

Your heart sinks in your chest, an aching numbness settling deep within your bones. You can’t do this. You can’t do this anymore.

“I’m going home,” you announce, heading for the door.

“I’ll come with you,” Baela says, hurrying after you.

“No, Bae its okay,” you tell her, “go help them get ready. I’ll just be at the apartment.”

“Are you sure? Rhae and I-”

“I just need some time alone,” you tell her, “I’ll be okay. Promise.”

Baela nods, but lets you go. Jace comes up behind her as you leave through the door.

“She’ll be okay,” Jace says, rubbing her shoulders.

Baela nods, pressing her lips together in a tight line. Aemond is still glaring at Luke who now sits on the stage as Rhaena presses an icepack against his chin.

You don’t speak to Aegon for a few days. Not that you’d get far. Otto probably has him locked in the recording box until getting the perfect take.

You always knew the feud was serious when Rhaenyra went solo, but now with an actual album in the works blood was bound to be spilt. Otto would keep Dracarys in the studio all night if it meant getting the song recorded before Rhaenyra.

It wasn’t all bad. You needed some time to think, to really wrack your head for what you wanted. It was good to spend time at your old apartment, your old room. It made your head clearer. So when Aegon finally texted you, you knew what you had to do.

The studio was quiet when you arrived, save for the soft strumming of a guitar. You found Aegon sitting on the couch, fingers strumming his guitar, softly singing to himself. His eyes lit up when you walked into the room.

“Hey,” he says, placing the guitar to the side.

“Hey,” you answer, coming to sit beside him.

You suddenly wish you had changed your mind about what to wear. You wanted to look nice, so you had settled with a dress, with black tights covering your legs. The weather was getting colder and you were grateful for the warmth they provided. But you notice Aegon’s eyes roam up your legs, and worry for a moment you’ll simply forgive him, straddling him on the couch.

“How’s the album coming?” you ask, breaking the awkward silence.

“A fucking nightmare,” Aegon laughs, “but we did it, we recorded it all. Without killing each other.”

You smile at that. You always wanted the band to succeed.

“Otto’s throwing a party to celebrate, at the Dragonpit,” Aegon tells you.

Your eyes widen at that. The Dragonpit is a huge club, for really fancy patrons. Rich mafia dudes, as Baela would say.

“That’s really cool, Aeg,” you tell him and you mean it. You truly are happy for him.

“I’m really sorry, (Y/N),” Aegon says with tears in his eyes, “I don’t know why I keep fucking up, but I do.”

Your eyes fill with tears. At least Aegon knows where this is headed.

“I really did love you,” Aegon tells you, his smile half-hearted.

You find your lip trembling.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to love someone properly,” he admits, slowly finding the words, “but I tried my best.”

You run your hand through his hair, smoothing it off of his forehead. Aegon closes his eyes at your touch.

Now is the moment. You could stay. You have done it before. You could lean into the man in front of him, soothing him. Wipe the tears from his face. Hold him in your arms and cradle him until he falls asleep.

But you are tired. And you want to go home. The resistance falls from your limbs, a tension you were only partially consciously aware of leaves you. You sigh deeply, giving him a sad smile.

“I know you did,” you tell him. Aegon’s eyes are glassy as he studies your face. As you step away from him. You are diverging from the path he is familiar with.

“I loved you too,” you whisper.

Aegon nods, his lips downturned.

“Do you want to come with me?” you ask, more out of courtesy than thinking he will agree.

He shakes his head.

“Nah,” he says, forcing a smile, “I think I’m gonna crash here for the night. Don’t want to be late for rehearsal in the morning.”

“Okay,” you tell him, getting up from the sofa to leave.

“Friday night,” he calls, “you’re still my date. For the party.”

You smile sadly at him.

“You sure you want me there?”

“Of course I do. You’re a part of this too.”

“Okay. I’ll be there,” you tell him, causing him to smile.

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Bye Aegon.”

You cry the entire ride home. You didn’t think you would, but as you sat behind the wheel it was as though a dam broke lose and everything came crashing down. But at the same time, the weight of the world had been lifted from your shoulders.

You don’t know what made you drive to Aegon’s apartment.You just want this to be over, grab what remains of your things and quietly disappear from his life. You stayed in your car several minutes after you parked before heading up the apartment.

The lights are off when you enter the apartment, save for the light above the stove that is seemingly always on. There are muffled voices from down the hall, a giggle. As you close the door behind you, you hear the voices from Aemond’s room go silent.

Shit.

You had hoped he wasn’t home. You don’t need more humiliation that comes with packing what little things you have left here.

You walk slowly, the baseboards creaking under your foot. You hear Aemond’s bedroom door open.

Fuck.

You look up from the floor, wincing. Your embarrassed expression soon fades to one of shock as Rhaena walks towards you from the hall.

She is smiling brightly, wearing one of Aemond’s shirts. You know it's his, you’ve seen him wear it. It falls past her thighs, leaving the rest of her legs bare.

“Hey Y/N,” she says, voice shaking, trying to appear nonchalant. She bites her bottom lip, widening her eyes as if to say finally.

You can’t seem to find your voice as she collects her purse and slips on her shoes.

“I’ll call you later, yeah?” she says, tossing her locs over her shoulder. Her cheeks are rosy, lips bruised. She places a hand to her mouth, blowing you a quick kiss before scurrying out the door. You watch the door close behind her, lips still parted in shock.

You turn back towards the hall. Aemond has exited his room, standing shirtless in the hallway. His dark gray sweats hang low on his hips, displaying the sharp v-line that disappears below his waistline.

“Seriously?” you tell him, finding your voice at last, “Rhaena? Aemond come on.”

His tongue pokes at his cheek, as he watches you. His sapphire eye catches the light from the kitchen, sending geometric shapes on the wall.

“She really likes you, you prick,” you tell him, anger coursing through your veins, heating your face.

The sadness and hurt that had been in your entire being moments ago has been replaced with white hot rage.

“So?” he says, strolling into the kitchen, and grabbing a glass. He fills it with water and takes a sip before meeting your eyes.

“So?” you imitate him, head tilting to the side, “so this is going to crush her.”

You can’t believe the nerve he has, to stand there so calmly. He exhales, lips turning into a smile as he tilts his head toward the ceiling, silver hair cascading down his back.

“She’s single, I’m single,” he says, no growls, at you, “it's not a big fucking deal.”

“It is a big deal Aemond,” you say, voice increasing in volume, “Fuck. Why would you do that?”

You always knew Aemond wasn’t the nicest person, but part of you hoped deep down he had some sense of empathy. Especially since he brushed Rhaena off all these years. You thought he understood her feelings for him. A thought rushes to your mind.

“You did this because of Luke,” you told him, and he placed his glass on the counter, resting his hands against the edge. The muscles in his back ripple as his hair falls over his face.

You felt your shoulders relax, knowing your realization is correct. What an asshole.

“You’re gonna mess with Rhaena’s head, just to fuck with Luke?” you ask him, running a hand through your hair. Aemond says nothing, just taps his long fingers against the counter.

“Fuck, Aemond,” you want to keep yelling at him. You want a reaction from him, some remorse, something besides that cold look, “you really are heartless.”

Aemond turns his head to you, purple and sapphire eye aglow with anger. He pushes off the counter, striding towards you.

“Go to bed, Y/N,” he says in a voice dripping with disdain, “you’re not my friend, you’re not my girlfriend. Stop acting like one.”

Your nostrils flare with anger and you swear you see red. You step closer to him, tilting your chin to meet his gaze. You can feel the heat radiating from him, your chests almost touching.

“Rhaena is my friend,” you tell him, voice low in warning.

You stare at each other for a beat, neither moving nor backing down. Gods you fucking hate him. At least ending things with Aegon means you never have to interact with Aemond Targaryen ever again.

“Go to bed,” he repeats, voice dripping with hostility, as you shake your head.

“I’m not staying.”

A flicker of confusion dances across his sharp features.

“Why?”

“We broke up,” you tell him, and continue before he can argue, “really. Like for good this time.”

Aemond stays eerily still. His eye searches your face, taking in the look of acceptance that follows the words you speak.

“So after the party, you won’t have to deal with me anymore,” you tell him, the bitterness evident in your voice.

You look away first. Who cares about this stupid stalemate anymore? You’re so done with Targaryen men. You turn on your heel prepared to leave the kitchen when Aemond speaks.

“You know what I think?” he says softly, and you look at him once more.

He wets his lips, a muscle in his jaw twitching. You wait for him to speak, anticipation causing your skin to blossom with goosebumps.

“I don’t think you’re mad I fucked Rhaena,” he tells you and you shake your head, opening your mouth to argue, your eyes narrowing.

Of course that’s why you are mad, what is he talking about?

“I think you’re mad I didn’t fuck you,” he says slowly.

Your mouth suddenly goes dry as all the air evaporates from your lungs. Your heart beats erratically in your chest and you swallow the lump beginning to form in your throat. Aemond’s eyes light up as you fail to answer, the beginning of a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“You’re jealous,” he practically purrs, as you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, flooding them with color.

The air in the kitchen feels so hot, it’s as though it is melting the flesh from your bones. You’re not jealous, why would you be jealous? No, no that doesn’t make any sense. He’s just saying that to mess with you, to make you confused.

“Fuck you,” you whisper, still frozen to the spot.

Your chest heaves with your breath. There is a look in Aemond’s eye, reminiscent of a rabid dog.

“I didn’t sleep with Rhaena,” he tells you and you blink in surprise.

Your heart nearly stops beating.

“What?”

“We made out,” he admits, grinning smugly as he shrugs, “she wanted to be more comfortable so I gave her my shirt.”

The nerves you felt a moment ago are replaced by fury yet again. He tricked you, and now he has humiliated you. In the neverending battle between you and Aemond, it appears Aemond has finally won. His smile is triumphant as he takes in your reaction.

You clench your jaw, preparing yourself for being the butt of the joke, before rolling your eyes at him.

“You are such a dick,” you tell him, your tone defeated as you turn away from him in surrender.

Aemond reaches out, grabs your arm, and forces you to face him.

“Oh, fuck off-” you begin to say when he presses his lips against yours.

The kiss is brief and sears your lips. You pull away immediately, staring at him, eyes wide. Aemond stares back at you, not releasing your arm.

Holy shit.

Your lips tingle and you don’t let your thoughts catch up with you as you lean forward, crashing your lips to his again. You throw your hands around his neck, pulling him towards you as he molds his mouth over yours.

His hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against him. You scrape your nails against the nape of his neck, securing his mouth to yours. Aemond turns his head, deepening the kiss as his hot tongue enters your mouth. He pushes you against the counter, caging you against it with his hips.

A soft wine leaves your throat, swallowed by Aemond’s pouty lips, as you feel the hardness between his legs push against you. Aemond’s hands move to cup under your ass, squeezing harshly as he lifts you with ease onto the counter.

He brings his hands between you both, slender fingers pushing your thighs open. You wrap your legs around his waist as he does, your legs a vice around him. His fingers stroke the fabric of your tights, right against your most sensitive spot, before hooking onto the material and tearing them at the seam.

He fucking ripped your stockings holy shit.

Aemond continues kissing you relentlessly as he does so, its a desperate mess of clashing tongues and teeth. You nip at his lower lip earning a groan from him that only encourages you further. You move your hands from his hair, pulling down his sweatpants at the waist. You feel his freed cock, hot and heavy against your hand.

Your eyes flutter open then, as you take him in your hand, shamefully impressed at the generous length and girth. Aemond meets your eyes, violet eye half-lidded, lips bruised from kissing. He releases a moan as you pump your hand around him, stroking his thick length once, twice.

You barely think, mind clouded with lust as you guide him towards your throbbing center. Aemond’s nimble fingers loop through your lace underwear, pulling it to the side. You feel the fat head of his cock kiss between your slick lower lips, before he pushes into you.

A strangled moan escapes your lips at the delicious stretch Aemond’s cock gives you. Delirious with the feeling of him splitting you open, you choose to ignore the smug grin that appears on his face as he bottoms out in your warm cunt. You can’t help but feel a rush of satisfaction in the way his mouth drops open as your cunt pulsates, clenching around him.

The way Aemond and you fuck is just like when you’re fighting one another. There is no time for being gentle. After a moment of adjusting Aemond pulls out, snapping his hips back into you again, again, and again. All you can do is hold onto him as he pounds into you, the edge of the counter biting into your lower back. Your fingers claw at him, surely drawing blood with how hard they scrape against the planes of his shoulders. Aemond’s mouth finds the junction of your shoulder and neck, and he sucks harshly on the skin.

You can’t help the pathetic whimpers and cries that leave you at his merciless pace, at the way he keeps one hand wrapped around your thigh keeping you spread open against him. He keeps his other hand around your neck, long fingers curling around your throat. He lifts his face from your neck, watching his cock slide effortlessly in and out, coated in your arousal. Aemond blinks to look up at you, drinking in the hedonistic expression on your face.

Every drive of his hips sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, the head of his cock rubbing against the spongy spot within you that makes stars appear in your eyes. Holy fuck you hadn’t been fucked like this in forever. Maybe ever at all.

“Fuck, you feel good,” Aemond growls, hand squeezing against your throat.

The loss of air makes your head spin, as Aemond continues his vigorous strokes. The apartment is silent aside from the lewd, wet slapping noises that echo throughout the kitchen.

His pace never relents, even as he releases your throat and forces his fingers through your parted lips into your warm mouth. He groans as you suck the lengthy digits, before removing them from your mouth and bringing them to rub slow, lazy circles around your clit. A pleasurable juxtaposition to the brutal pace of his cock.

You feel your lower stomach tighten, a wave of pleasure beginning to crest within you. Your fingers desperately claw at his bicep.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” you squeak, a breathy desperate moan. You bite your lip, stifling the next moan that manages to slip through; it comes out as a broken sob. Aemond raises an eyebrow at you, a cocky lopsided grin appearing on his face.

“You gonna cum for me?” he asks, his voice rough as gravel.

God, you want to smack that stupid self-indulgent look off his face.

But he feels so fucking good inside you, working you closer and closer toward your orgasm. It's like he knows exactly how to touch you like he’s been thinking of touching you like this and preparing for the moment he does. His free hand tangles in your hair, tugging your neck backward and making you look towards the ceiling. Aemond licks a hot path up your throat, before biting harshly on your ear.

With a strangled cry, your pussy clenches around his cock, and the world around shatters, bathing you in white hot pleasure. Aemond hums against your neck, as his thrusts become sloppier. As his pace begins to slow, you feel him release inside of you, hot spurts of his cum painting your inner walls as you clench around him, milking him for all he’s worth. Thank god you're on birth control.

You feel Aemond’s hand release from your hair, your neck relaxing. You drop your hands from his back as he rests his forehead against yours. You swallow, trying to regulate your breathing that leaves your lips in pants. Aemond releases his hands from you, pulling his softening cock from within you, clutching the counter so hard his knuckles turn white.

You feel despairingly empty as he unsheaths himself from your warmth, breath catching when he is fully parted from you. Aemond and you lock eyes, your cheeks beginning to flush as you come down from your respective highs. Warmth trickles down your between your thighs, as your place your shaky legs on the ground.

You just slept with Aemond Targaryen.

Shit.

Aegon’s fucking brother. Your heart drops.

Shit.

Rhaena.

note: what did i say about things getting messy??? 😱 I hope you enjoyed ily ily ily

taglist: @padfooteyes, @herfantasyworldd, @kyuupidwrites, @lost-and-founds, @doublesparrows, @virginslut08, @f4ll-for-you, @violet2507, @itsabby15, @raphaellathedragon, @tswiftsthings, @cruelmissdior, @tempt-ress, @lexyr23, @reneki, @fictionalcomforts, @serrhaewin, @yariany02, @lily174, @schniiipsel, @nina2697, @minttea07, @queenofshinigamis, @duesobabe, @maximizedrhythms, @arryn-nyx, @arcadianmoonlight @kittykylax

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themotherofblood · 1 year

Note

Dear author, you don't know how happy I am to see that your ad requests are open. That said can I get an extremely romantic, overwhelming, passionate and rough smut with Daemon x Martell fem reader inspired by the song "Ang laga de", please?

you have no fucking idea how happy this ask made me, like kicking my legs and smiling like a lunatic happy. I have envisioned this very smut scene at least a hundred times. It is a little dark, both Daemon and Y/N are kinda crazy in this. Madly in love, literally

masterlist

smut, talks of murder, blood, loss of virginity, oral (f), more blood, fingering and evil daemon being a softie.

Daemon Targaryen x fem!Martell Reader

“I refuse to be your mistress!”

That is the last thing you had said to your beloved dragon prince.

The Dornish were said to be a shameless lot regardless, and here you fell for a married man.

The Rhoynish gods were laughing at your stupidity, there wasn’t even a lure placed for you to catch. You simply fell for him, hard.

What had been a month long endeavour to see your younger sister wed a distant Targaryen cousin. Turned to your own nightmare. You had never craved for something as much as you had Daemon Targaryen. His flirtatious deeds, bringing your flowers and trinkets had bouncing like a little girl. It was frustrating, you had tried courting before and yet it felt flat, you truly believed that men simply were not capable of pleasing you. Until he came along, him and that stupid red dragon that made you want Daemon even more

He became the thing you wanted to cry to the gods about, the sweets yours parents wouldn’t let you have or that fine silk dress that was far too big for you to wear. His niece Rhaenyra, also egged this fire further and not once had either of them mentioned that he was married! It was painful, really fucking painful, learning that his loyalty was sworn to another.

You’d spent nights unable to sleep on foreign beds, awake in the royal gardens of the Red Keep, where the prince kept you company till the sun graced the horizon and you had succumbed to slumber with your head in his lap. There was serenity, shared comfort that dwelled between the two of you. You had heard stories, counted first hand of the nights he’d spend in brothels with his whores. You didn’t care, you wanted him.

“I refuse to be your mistress.”

It was a lie, you would happily become his salacious secret should he have asked a second time. There was no dignity, no obligations or customs, to you there was just him and the one truth that boiled your blood hot. You had already given him a piece of you heart as you boarded the ship to return home. You wanted him to ask again, to whisk you away on his dragon and yet he allowed you the curtesy to return home with your honour intact.

“If there is anything the crown can provide for Dorne, do not hesitate.” Viserys coughed his words out as he presented his farewells to you in a crowded court

“Should I ask, you wouldn’t be able to provide it your grace.” You wandered, keeping your head low in respect for the man and your wants

“What is it that a king cannot provide,” Otto Hightower questioned, taking offence to your wording.

“Daemon Targaryen.” You stated, gasps echoed across the throne room. You had committed a crime, stained your honour for good. You didn’t care nor did you give Daemon a last look before boarding your ship.

Honour- what was it compared to feel of being in his arms? What was devotion if not sound of his voice relaying Valyrian poetry? What was love, if not your heart that drowned in his blood?

What was love- if not the letter of his wife’s untimely injury?

Rhea Royce, bedridden of her paralysis, remained frozen and useless to her husband.

There was much that Daemon Targaryen was capable of, much that you were capable of. The sheer fire that burned your passions would have soaked your own hands in Rhae Royce’s blood.

She didn’t love him.

You did.

Then came your brother, his stupid alliance and vengeance against the Targaryen’s was costing you your sanity, you had pleaded with him for weeks and then you succumbed to the insanity that perhaps there was venom in your heart for whoever kept you from your dragon prince.

It festered for days, the mirrors in your room painted with clay. Refusing to look at yourself until he laid eyes upon you as his wife.

You had sat at supper with your brother, his disappointment was clear. You wanted to lay with the enemy, if loving Daemon was treachery then you would happily lay your hands forwards retribution. There should have been sorrow, a searing burn of guilt- he was your family, your blood. You shared a cradle and a mother; nothing more. Your sweet brother, for now was thorn digging into your palm as you admired the flourishing bud of devotion. He had to be plucked out.

The forbidden subject was brought up once more, there wasn’t a request in sight but a demand from his brazen sister.

“Let me be his, let him have me.” A prayer, Qoren grew irate over your insolent behaviour.

He loved you dearly, his sweet sister who was blinded by the rage of love. He wouldn't allow it, claiming to chain you to your chamber if you made an attempt to contact him. You said nothing as you nibbled on your food, spatters of blood dripped onto your pie. You could feel your throat constricting and yet it was nothing compared to the agony you had been in without Daemon.

Qoren coughed profusely, blood dripping from his nose as his eyes widened at your betrayal. In truth he had betrayed you first, choosing to keep you away from the one thing you had ever truly wanted. You could taste the copper on your lips, corners of your eyes welling with tears as you ripped the small pendant from your neck; even with the antidote to the poison in your system. The despair never stopped.

An unpleasant event truly, yet what was anyone to do, Qoren had no heirs and your blood-bled mustard. In the true picture of your house’s words, you remained unbent; raging on in sheer will for one man.

Even tainted in blood, you wore white for him; to remain pure, awaiting him to paint you in the colours of his house

He will return for me, for my love

There was no assurance that he would fly to you, no evidence that Rhae Royce’s accident wasn’t a mere coincidence; yet your arrogance had you rubbing rose oil onto your skin.

My dragon would return to me, you were sure of it.

For days the men sworn to the Martells had sighted the skies day and night, all in hopes of seeing a red dragon looming over the palace. The very ladies that had dressed you since you were a child urged for you to see reason, men often toyed with naive noble ladies for their amusement. He hadn't toyed with you, you were his cherished doll, one he stole because he simply could.

“Princess,” A young squire heaved, a folded parchment in between his fingers. Sealed with a three-headed dragon.

Your wish was my command princess.

Even without a name, the curls on his lettering were indicative enough an answer for you.

He had indeed harmed Rhea Royce for you, just as you had killed your brother Qoren for him. In your heart, you knew he would find you soon; just as your orders for exotic flowers and wines were distributed to merchants, people in your household began to whisper of your delusions.

Then the black skies graced your hopes, almost taunting all those who questioned your faith in him. The moon, full as is lit the ocean in its milky glow, from those very black skies came your faith. Loud whistles of a dragon echoed through Old Palace. Yet another young squire mumbled out in laboured breaths.

You smiled to yourself as your ladies sat in silent shock, their efforts in dressing you in white and gold would bear fruit tonight. Their feet sprung to action, the jangles from their anklets were muffled in your ears, and you just smiled to yourself. You hiked you skirts up as you skipped down the corridor, the jangles on your gold anklets seemed to have been cursing everybody who questioned you.

The doors to the Old Palace opened as Daemon Targaryen rode in on horseback, and along with him came a small entourage. He sat tall atop his horse, finally a Targaryen worthy of conquering Dorne. You were sure your ancestors were screaming bloody murder, shunning you and wishing you ill will, and yet as you stood at the enterance of the Old Palace, your father’s name meant nothing infront of the man you loved.

“In a bustling court you asked for me, may all see; I have arrived.” Daemon proclaimed as he stood with his arms out. You feet hurried down the steps, hoping to grace him with an eternal embrace and yet he raised his hand to stop you dead in your tracks

“I applaud you, for a devotion even I was unknown to. You stripped yourself bare of your honour and dignity for a relationship you had no right over.” He retorted, you couldn’t understand was her perturbed? Is that what he was here for, to lecture you?

“What reasoning do you have for this madness?”

“Love.” You stated, even the word in itself felt lacking for the true tempest that swirled in your environs. It had to be bigger, all consuming.

“The one revolts against the mightiest of dragons, that love,” You walked towards him “The one that fearlessly professes her devotion at court, that love.”

“When she sees her beloved and forgets her family, that love.” You eyes glossed over, consuming your skin in wild fire, begging him to claim you already

His hands harshly grasped your forearms, shaking sense into your as he spoke.

“The Faith and my brother’s court will never see you as one of theirs,” He warned.

“I accept.” You smiled.

“Marrying me would have you walking on fire!” He reasoned, hoping you would back away; a flower far to delicate for him to touch. He would give his life for you to not wither.

“I accept.” You nodded.

“I have a wife, Rhea.” He grimaced at the thought of his bronze bitch “I shall never be able to provide you the title of my first wife.” His hand trailed up to hold your cheek, stroking away the moisture that had looked below your eyes.

“Taking my name as yours will bring nothing but notoriety.” He kissed you cheek.

“I accept.”

“Then let it be known, the world would remember us as one,” He moved backwards gesturing towards the priest in his entourage.

“The Watergardens,” You stated, gesturing your servants to lead the priest to the location.

Daemon had allowed you moments alone, your household torn over what was happening. While many sighed in relief, perhaps you would finally eat; let life make your skin glow yet again. The storm gave away and your lamp was still burning bright. He presented you with a head piece made of khaki cloth, amber and rubies with stray pieces of shells. You handmaidens were quick with it, pinning it onto your hair as Daemon made his arrangements. Caraxes looked over the Watergardens, whistling just as ecstatically as his rider as he perched himself on the beach mount.

The universe seemed to have been in agreement of your emotions, the wind on the beach picked up; cooling your overwhelmed and hot skin. The skies were clear, twinkling in stars and the full moon as the complimented the low tided waves crashing ashore. Your own servants had been quick, decorating the gardens with yellow and red candles and exotic Bravosi flower arrangements placed on vases. Daemon awaited you by the shore line.

Your hands held a dhanuchi, clay burners that held sizzling coal pieces accompanied with sandalwood. You hiked your skirts up, walking towards Daemon, counting your steps as your bare feet hit the sand, you were trying your hardest to breathe; he stood their awaiting you looking as galant as the day he received you at the Blackwater ports, it was from that day you knew your fate would be painted black in his name.

Daemon turned, toying with a black obsidian dagger as his eyes softened the second he saw you. He held his hand out for you take as you stopped next to him, placing the dhanuchi at the alter.

“This will hurt,” He whispered, gesturing to the dragon glass daggers. You shook your head, no pain would compare to the three moons you had spent without him. He lifted the edge against your bottom lip, drawing blood as he gently slashed a cut, he guided your hands to do the same. The taste of copper filled your mouth, a stinging sensation ran through your lips; one you knew would only soothe once you felt his lips on yours.

Blood of two, joined as one

You cut a gash on your palm, wincing as blood trickled to the surface; Daemon did the same with his before grasping your bloodied palm within his. The priest wrapped a silk across your palms, your lover’s lilac eyes held concern for your pains and yet wild adoration. You were to be his. Blood began to trickle into the cup of wine placed under you as the priest continued.

Ghostly flame and a song of shadows

Daemon marked your forehead with his blood, you followed his lead as the priest instructed the symbol you drew, he then offered you the cup of wine laced with your blood. You eyes never once left Daemon’s as you sipped on the strong wine before giving him the cup to do the same.

Two hearts as embers, forged in the fourteen fires

His hands came to rest at your cheek, both growing restless of the vows as he wiped the dripping blood from your lips.

A future promised in glass, the stars stand witness.

You pulled yourself closer to him, one might say you were dazed from the blood loss, in truth it was Daemon’s lilac eyes, how his hands caressed your skin. The wanting fires that engulfed the alter seeming leave everything in ashes but the two of you.

The vows spoken through time, of light and darkness.

He whispered along with the priest.

There was no shame in the way your lips crashed against one another, you tasted his blood on your tongue and yet his hands scorched your skin, almost consuming your body whole as his hands wandered everywhere as his lips claimed you. A stray tear fell from your eyes as your held onto his face, letting his tongue explore yours. You couldn’t breathe from the passion of it all, not that you cared; you life was now his to do with as he pleased.

You rested on Daemon’s lap as he lounged on your window bed, working a healers poultice on the cut of his palm, still lingering in the after effects of wedding. His hands gently returned the favour as he wrapped yours in gauze, you prayed that it would scar; it was a testament for your devotion.

“There- all fixed sweet wife.” Daemon whispered, nudging his nose against your cheek. Heat immediately rose to you cheek as you looked away, you were his wife.

You shuffled off of him, you walked to the steaming dhanuchi that you had carried back to your bed chambers, you bed chambers smelled sweet from it aroma. You had lit in hopes of being blessed by the fertitly goddess, that your marriage remaind pure and secure for eternity. You pushed you skirts always as you climbed onto your bed, letting the steam grace and bless your bed with your unconditional wish.

You dropped the burner on the floor after, letting it submerge the room in its sweet smoke. You awaited your husband as he rid himself of his tunic, you shuffled closer as you sat on your knees. Admiring his toned body and taking account for every battle scar on his skin that you would spend the rest of your life healing with your love.

“Will- will you bed me now, husband?” You whispered, your lips dangerously closer to his, begging for another kiss.

“Oh, I plan to do more than just bedding you.” His lips moulded against yours once more as his hands tugged on the ties of your blouse.

“I conquer Dorne tonight,” He teased, peppering kisses to your temple down to you cheek. He pushed you back on the bed, almost immediately pouncing on top.

He grasped your wrists with one hand, pushing them above your head as he laid siege upon your neck. Laying warm- wet kisses and bruising nips at your neck; his hair tickling at your bare skin as your squirmed underneath him. There was no reasoning to the gentle throb that began pulsing at your core- you rubbed your thigh closer to make it halt. He pushed aside your unlaced blouse, your chest heaved as he suckled on your breast, pulling and licking the hardening pebble in his mouth.

You back arched if the bed, pushing your chest into his mouth, small open mouthed gasps left your mouth as his fingers danced past your navel; yanking on the fastening strings of skirts. His hands pushing your skirts and small clothes down at once, unwrapping you like present as your laid in his ordered positioning.

You succumbed to your exposure, you moved your head in shame, opting to look out at the glaring moon as it witnessed your de-flowerinng. Daemon took offence to your actions, using his fingers to guide your chin towards him as he groaned in disapproval.

“Three moons apart and you dare look away from me?” Daemon cocked his brow at you, freeing your hands as he ventured lower on your body.

“I- forgive me, my prince.” You whispered, your lungs refraining you from speaking any louder

“Husband,” He corrected as he pushed you legs apart.

“Husband.” You mewled in shame as his fingers stroked your folds that looked by the minute. His lips latched onto your inner left thigh, sucking and nipping at the skin.

All the while his eyes remained devious yet absurdly comforting, the two fingers that drew circles on your thighs or a small groans he left against your skin, indicative of how much he was truly enjoying himself. Just for his own satisfaction he marked your thighs at several spots, leaving darkening marks for you to reminisce over in the coming fortnight.

You felt intoxicated, revelling in the way his tongue wet your outer folds before indulging in the saccharine delight that was your cunt, a shameless moan echoed through your bed chambers as you felt his tongue flicking at a much sensitive spot. He moaned against your mound the second your taste hit his tongue.

His palm, large enough to lay flat over your soft belly to hold you flush a against the bed as he took his liberties, lapping at your like his last meal had been consumed days before. His eyes bore into yours, his own demeanour turning to command, strumming the pleasures of your body to his own rhythm.

“Such a sweet delight,” He complimented, mostly to distract you from his finger easing into your tightness. You immediately clenched down on the intrusion. “This shall ease the discomfort.” He elaborated before spitting onto your folds

Your head fell backwards in shame, focusing on the comforting caresses in your torso as Daemon plunged his finger in knuckle deep. You couldn't take the prolonging tasks no longer. You whined, pawing at Daemon’s trousers.

“Please, please have me already.” You begged, you wanted to feel him within you. You could careless of the pain or discomfort, you just wanted to be one

“Take them off,” He instructed, your hands immediately worked on unbuttoning his pants, before digging your fingers into her rear to pull them down. His cock- that thing hung pliant between his legs. Part of you looked up at him curiously, and the other half wondered how your envious would engulf such a monstrosity. Your eyes silently asked for permission, to which Daemon simply stroked your hair as your wrapped your hand around the warm appendage. You were unsure of what to do.

“Stroke it, gently.” He guided you as you followed, feeling his cock twitch in your hands as you moved your hands back and forth. His tip soon glistened in moisture leaking from within. All Daemon could think of were your sweet lips wrapped around his cock and yet there was an eternity to teach you of the pleasures of the flesh. “Good girl,” He cooed.

He urged you to lay back against the pillows, working his length to harden to its full potential. He hesitated, having taken many maiden heads before, he needed this to be delicate as he tore through yours. He circled his tip at your sensitive rose bud before pushing at your entrance. You gasped out loud, letting you arms wrap around his shoulders as he inched forwards.

The stretch of his efforts shot a stinging sche through your pelvis, and he halted. Kissing your cheek and cooing at you in an attempt to alleviate even a fraction of the discomfort you were in. He advanced all the way in, hoping to let your ride out the waves of pain; you cried out louder and yet there was a little more left to go

“Look at me, just me. I shall make it better.” He groaned, hoping to suppress his own pleasures that coursed through his body, your tightness strangling his cock with threats of nearly milking him dry before anything had even begun. He felt selfish for feeling bliss as you silently wept underneath him, he caressed your cheek, the thing he held onto as his lips kissed your face. Peppering kisses to your forehead and your lips, over and over again as he inched forward

“Dae-” You shrieked as he finally bottomed out within you, the pressure of the stretch making your eyes well in more tears. You pulled yourself closer to him, trying to muffle your weeps on the crook of his neck. His arm reaches under you to support your neck. His deeper voice whispered encouragements as he awaited you to adjust to the pain.

“Look at how well you take me,” He whispered in between kisses that he pressed in your temples “Made just for me, aren't you? My sweet little wife.”

“Just for you,” You sniffled, letting yourself rest back against the pillows.

There was a humiliating familiarity in the way your aches encouraged your actions, you shuffled underneath him. Hoping to get him to move and yet he solely focused on doting on your body.

“Husband-” You whimpered, making his eyes shoot to you as they were focused on where the two of you were connected just moments before. He hummed in acknowledgement

“Can you- um please.” You stuttered, almost frustrated at yourself for losing your wording this easy.

“You have to tell me sweet wife, show me what you need.” He asked, urging his will into your answer.

“Please move- I need you to move.” You requested, he smiled before angling his hips backwards; hissing wantonly in the process and you mewled under him. There was pain within the first few thrusts and yet the deranged tendencies of your blood milked pleasure from the pain that subsided to a subtle pressure in your belly.

Daemon lost his composure, uttering vulgarities in your ear; the most obscene of sentences paired with the sweets of names he had picked for you.

“Perfect little hole, taking me so well,” He’d compliment one minute.

“Should have fucked this cunt the first day I laid eyes on you sweet girl,” The next he’d complain of the things he’d regretted.

He held your jaw, a feral smirk adoring his lips as he took your apart, your bangles clicking as your body bounced with his determined thrusts.

“Daemon!” You shrieked, such hurtful pleasure causing you to bed for such sinful things

“Just like that, scream your husband’s name.” He grunted, “Let all of Dorne know who owns this pretty body. Go on tell me.”

“You do, you do.” Cries poured from your lips as you held onto his forearms. “My Daemon,” You moaned as pulled yourself up to kiss his lips.

“Yes, yes sweet girl. All yours.” His deviant smile widened. Your cunt began to flutter around him, such flattery could mean just one thing as Daemon pushed his pelvis against yours, his thrusts grinding at your nub.

“That’s it, just lay there and take my seed,” He growled, his playing again harshly grasping your jaw to make you look at him.

“Dae- Daemon!” The ever impending storm began to paw at your insides,

Not long now- “I want it, I want babes and so much more. Please, please.” You begged to hope that itch would finally give way, and so it did. With no warning and only a scream of your husband’s name, your body erupted in ecstasy.

Daemon groaned out loud, muttering praises of your name, good girl, his sweet girl. Yes, you were. All for him as you loomed on a cloud perched high above the ground, you only registered Daemon’s thrusts faltering and warm filling your core, and then you felt Daemon’s caresses on your skin as you coaxed your heaving body to stability.

“Still with me?” He whispered against your hair and all you could muster was a lazy nod against his chest. You hissed feeling his cock leave your opening, he pushed you through it all. Letting his body weight do the work for you as he pulled himself to sit up along with you.

You finally opened your eyes, blinking away stray tears as he wiped at the trails of moisture on your cheeks. He bundled your exhausted body against his as he lifted you off your bed, walking you along to your chaise before wrapping a spare blanket against both your bodies, almost rocking your vulnerable body to a humming under his breath.

Maids poured into the clear martial bed, they all frowned at the image of their beloved Lady Martell curled against a dragon without a care as you nuzzled against him. Daemon snapped his fingers at them as they began to carry the bloodied sheets away, gesturing to the corner of the room for them to leave it behind. He planned to gift it to his brother’s council, as a warning.

There was nothing anybody could refuse Daemon Targaryen from- that and that he had a new wife. A wife of his choice, a wife he intended on loving until his death bed.

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cyanogen-miasma · 2 months

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Otto the Elephant Alpha

I did this months ago and got bogged down on his spawning animation and forgot to post - I'm not planning on finishing the spawning animation, but it's a Sun-looking thing

Otto plays a part in what I like to call the Appondale War, which is this little thing I have going on in my animal jam AU

where, essentially, in the time where the animals were distrustful of each other and took their heartstones with them, some of the animals went to Appondale, and the different species vied for control of the savannah - the animals going there being animals that come from the savannah eg elephants, crocodiles, lions, hyenas, rhinos, cheetahs. Otto was the leader of a group that was trying to defend Appondale against the Phantoms while trying to mend the distrust between the animals in Appondale. He failed, and was felled and imprisoned in the elephant heartstone, but when the Alphas brought elephants back to Jamaa, he was given Alpha status for his valour. Contrary to his Sun motif, he actually defends against the Sun by bringing rain to areas with droughts, and letting smaller animals gather in the shade he casts. Pretty stand-up guy.

#art #artists on tumblr #animal jam minor alphas #animal jam otto #animal jam #jamblr #ajc #aj classic #elephant #aj elephant #aj otto #aj alpha

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noemitenshi · 5 months

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Jake Otto as a brother

so i promised @minimoefoe to write down my thoughts on Jake. I hope I'm being coherent haha, it's all a big jumbled mess in my head that mostly boils down to seethign rage. I definitely hate Jake more than Jeremiah, so make of that what you will.

Jake, to me, seems to have taken on the role of 'the good kid' (you know, the thing that shouldn't happen between siblings, where one takes on the role of the black sheep and by contrast the other is good..) and not only has he taken it on, i mean, you can't really blame a kid for that (as long as the kid is, you know, a kid) but he seems to be have fully embraced that role in s3 where he is all grown up. Which is what really gets to me (he should know better by now).

You see that in all his interactions with Troy. He expects the worst of him, he's annoyed by all that Troy does. In fact, Troy can't win with him (funny how in s3ep8 jake is telling him "Do something!" about the militia being incapacitated etc and then when troy does do something it's still not good enough…). Also note how Troy, in contrast, almost never raises his voice at Jake (except for that one interaction where he's already all irritated/angry about mike leaving). He's mostly mild around Jake and at least I got the sense that he is resigned. Resigned to the fact that Jake will always see the worst in him. He's not even trying to convince him otherwise - so I assume they had several confrontations about that when they were little (actually would have loved to see more of their past relationship, these little hints we get seem so intriguing (eg tell me about the rabbits)).

I think the most hurtful interaction, imho, is when Troy tries to warn him not to go to Taqa to placate him after Troy went and got Alicia back. He seems earnest in his worry over Jake. "Brother, you leave, I don't think you're coming back" Troy tells Jake. And Jake, unable to see anything but confrontation in Troy and all Troy does goes "ask yourself if that would make you happier." Troy doesn't answer, not with words but his face says it all. He closes his mouth, unhappy. Opens it again as if to argue only to - stop. Probably because he knows there's no sense in arguing with Jake about how he sees Troy. He won't get him to change his mind.

Also, since I rewatched the scene, notice how Troy actually does understand Jake. With the "i think you'd be happy if Walker took your scalp." Jake does seem like the self-sacrificing type (they both do haha, they are brothers after all), like he'd want to die for doing the right thing. Troy gets that about him. Whereas Jake does not seem to even start being able to comprehend Troy. There seems to be too much bitterness on Jake's side for empathy.

And sure, yes they've both grown up in an abusive household, yes, probably Jake was told to look after Troy a lot (so Troy was made his responsibility which is super unfair, absolutely), probably also blamed for when Troy behaved in a way deemed unacceptable (which, given the parents were drunks could be literally ANYTHING e.g. drawing too loudly (an example meant to show their unreasonableness). add to that the fact that Troy was shown to be easily upset (in the video tape in s3ep3 he starts crying when his parents fight), they probably didn't want to deal with him upset/crying, demanding he stop it or demanding jake do something abou it…). So yes, all that is horrible also for jake, an impossible -abusive- situation for both brothers.

Jake should've grown out of it though. He's an adult now but he still can't see past these roles they were given. He probably even still blames it on Troy, like if he were a better child to their parents things would've been easier also on Jake. Why can't Troy never do what he's asked to? Etc etc. And all this colors his interaction with Troy as grown ups. All sympathy he has ever felt for Troy eroded over the years...

And I do think as a kid he was also trying to help Troy and protect him, as he says -though I also think Troy protected Jake. Troy seems like he's very used to dealing with pain, so I definitely think he made sure the ire of his parents fell on him. Kinda playing into the black sheep role, too (like kids tend to do once they've got this role)… anyway so Jake tried to protect him/help him though I think with time the bitterness took over. And that's all he has for Troy now, bitterness and disappointment. And Jake gives himself away. When he says "Ask yourself if that [jake not coming back from trying to placate Taqa] would make you happier" that's not troy's thinking at all. It's HIM, Jake, who'd be happier if Troy went off to some kind of mission (exile) and wouldn't come back.

tl;dr Jake is a shit brother to Troy (while playing the white knight to others -or should that be 'and'- fully embracing the 'good kid' role) and I'll never like him

#troy otto #jake otto #ftwd #fear the walking dead #ramblings #analysis #good kid - bad kid

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detroitlib · 5 months

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Biblia Latina, fragment.

Ms. France or southern Flanders, early fourteenth century. Written in dark brown ink in a regular Gothic hand; text in 2 columns of 50 lines. Decoration: 11-line initial P historiated with standing figures of the Virgin and six men (one with nimbus) in colors against burnished gold background, with full-length bar border sprouting into sprays of ivy leaves (including a small dragon figure), in gold and colors; 6-line illuminated initial, with full-length bar border with sprays of ivy leaves extending along left margin, in gold and colors; 3-line illuminated initial with full-length bar border of ivy leaves extending along right margin of verso, in gold and colors; headlings in red, chapter numbers and running titles in alternating red and blue letters. This leaf is from a lectern Bible once owned by lawyer and judge Mirmellus Arnandi and left to a Dominican convent in 1450. The manuscript was sold at Parke-Bernet, New York, 30th November 1948, lot 326 to Otto F. Ege (1888-1951) who dispersed the leaves.

c.1300

Rare Book Collection, Detroit Public Library

#biblia latina #manuscript #latin #bible #ms #14th century #illuminated manuscript #medieval #middle ages #books #ege #arnandi #gothic #ms.#mss #detroit public library

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end-orfino · 7 months

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i'm watching superhorrorbro's new video and while i disagree with some things he's saying, one comment got me thinking again about what happened to Otto and his sister, anyway? We don't know much, but I think we know just enough to throw some loose speculations? It seems like only children who were somehow traumatized/badly treated are able to reach the Nowhere (something superhorrorbro states, but it seemed pretty clear considering everything), that's the first thing. Also, if Otto is still not capable of moving on from Sisi's disappearance YEARS later, having lived the majority of his life without her at this point, then that means that she must have been incredibly important to him, and everything could have possibly gone downhill for him after she disappeared. Another thing to note is that Sisi was the older one of them two.

My personal guess was that Sisi and Otto had a somehow bad living situation when they were kids - maybe their parents were abusive, maybe they were entirely left to fend for themselves, I don't know. I don't think we have enough information to speculate on what exactly it was. What matters here is that this would have possibly lead to Sisi, as the older one, to be Otto's main caretaker - someone who carried most of the weight of their situation on her shoulders, trying to make most of what they had for her little brother. At the same time, Otto wasn't offering the same kind of support to her, although I don't think it was because of malice, but because of him being too young to realize how much she struggled and/or lacking a way to help her. (I'm especially basing it off him saying he was just a boy after Noone claimed that Sisi could have felt relieved to be free from him. I'm guessing he would have realized over the years that Sisi was struggling more than he could have known back when she was still with him.)

Still, this DID lead to Sisi being incredibly important for Otto. She would have been the main person who cared for him, and I doubt that his situation would have gotten better after she vanished. I think this would be able to explain why he gets so obsessed with finding a way to reunite with her as soon as an ocassion shows up. After so many years, he could even have a somewhat twisted, biased view of her as a person, thinking of the time she was with him as the "better times", having some kind of weird nostalgia(?) for it.

TL;DR: I think Sisi and Otto were stuck in some kind of bad living situation (eg. abusive parents, but we don't have enough info to speculate about what it could have been.) This led to Sisi, as the older one of the two, caring for Otto most of the time without having much support from anywhere herself. Because of this, she was hurt enough to eventually vanish to the Nowhere, leaving Otto - who she was incredibly important to as his main caretaker - to fend for himself in whatever situation they were dealing with. This would explain why her disappearance had such an effect on him that even now, as an adult, he is not capable of moving on from it, and grows progressively more obsessed over trying to reunite with her.

#im sorry if this is rambly/isn't making much sense. I didn't proofread anything other than the tldr #the sounds of nightmares #tson otto #little nightmares #little nightmares otto #the sounds of nightmares otto #i dont know what tag IS the main one for him i have no idea #tson sisi #cici

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insom-nom-nom-niatic · 7 months

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Welome to tonight's drunk drabbles...

Set after Troy "died" that's all you need to know.

CHARACTERS: Troy Otto X Fem Reader

PROMPT IS FROM THIS LIST!

16. “I had a thought.” “Oh no.” “I swear it’s a good one this time!’

“I had a thought.”

Troy's blue eyes glanced up from the //// he was doing

“Oh no.” He could see you wiping the sleep from your eyes. Another dream. Another new way to 'save' humanity as if you hadn't already done enough for multiple lifetimes. And it would be yet another downfall of tears he'd have to see you go through knowing there is no more hope, just living or trying to.

“I swear it’s a good one this time!" Your hands hit flat on the table in front of the curly brunette. His eyes scan you from your fingertips to your eyes slowly. Inhaling a deep breath before sighing it's release. His blue orbs egging you to go on.

For a full 20 minutes, you sat in the wooden chair opposing Troy at his desk, spilling out your idea in full detail, barely taking a half second to breathe between sentences. You took the notebook from under his left hand, opening to a blank page and scribbling your plan so he can see it, not just hear it. When his eyes began to gloss over, staring intently at the book that only he wrote in, that only he touched you quickly quieted down.

A few silent moments passed before you sheepishly spoke again.

"Just think about it. That's all I'm saying."

Troy sat in complete stillness for a heartbeat or two. His mind turning over the 'brilliant' idea you dreamt of during your nap. Most of the ideas you came back to the living with were ways to help the living, cures or new medical practices for survival.

This time you awoke with a plan for war.

"You're saying to use them as a weapon? To our advantage?"

Troy raised an eyebrow, making sure he heard you correctly. His eyes had a certain sparkle to them... surprise laced with pride? He was proud of his girl changing the course of the future. Not once did he think you of all people would be the one to come up with such a devastating idea for those that would oppose your group of survivors.

He liked it. He liked it a lot.

"An army, yeah. Use the dead as an army against them."

#troy otto #ftwd #fear the walking dead #troy otto fanfic #troy otto fic #troy otto x reader #nom-noms dd

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technovillain · 1 year

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I think you should go off about the autistic transmascness of raz, sasha, and otto. Right now. Forever if you are so inclined

.....maybe I will....... (i gathered my thoughts on ye olde psychonauts fic ideas google doc lol)

I tried to make some of it make a little bit of sense with the vaguely established time periods they have lol. In terms of awareness of trans identities and stuff....but I'm not playing the self-hatred stuff, just the lack of understanding of how that works based on general public social understanding of what I imagine the Psychonauts universe to be like....plus I imagine that like Psychics can sort of tell when people are related (in canon) a lot of them just also sort of have this understanding (even if highly vague) of gender difference from the very start when they are trans.... at least a lot of them do, specifically these three I'm headcanoning. And final warning. This is VERY VERY long. Like so very long. But I will share it since you egged me on :]

I will put it under the cut for length reasons. In case Tumblr glitches and tries to show the whole thang ding to people.

Otto: afab, questionable relationship with his parents. Outright always refused femininity boldly and outwardly. Pretended to be a boy all the time, strangers sometimes believed it when he was a kid. His parents tried to make him be more feminine on many occasions, and he always fought against it. After a while, they got busier and became less involved parents. At this point they gave up on making their daughter look presentable. They had written him off as past fixing as far as a female reputation went. They just told him sort of that he was up to his own devices if he was going to act like that forever. They’d be there if he wanted some help getting his act together, but otherwise he had to fend for himself. Got older and assumed he was some sort of lesbian or something. Just vaguely identified as some sort of butch lesbian identity, but a lot of people called him ‘he’ all the time and he wasn’t sure if he connected with womanhood or lesbian identities at all really. He eventually read as so masc that a lot of people assumed he was a guy anyways. And he liked that but never put a name to it because he didn’t really know about trans people. Had some sort of shroom(psitanium? dunno. something. they did psychic hippie drugs together.)-induced gender awakening with Ford one day when they were younger, before all the Psychonauts stuff. His eyes were finally randomly opened and he changed his whole outlook on his psychic abilities and gender. Decided to actually socially and medically transition after this.

Sasha: afab, gender presentation change brought on when he had to be raised by his father. Lars Nein was so disconnected from femininity that he had no clue what to do with a daughter. So he made Sasha work with him in the shop and gave him the same haircut that he gave himself for utilitarian reasons. Sasha accepted this, long hair bothered him for sensory reasons. After a few instances of Sasha having psychic encounters with reading the minds of strangers, Lars was accepting of the psychic identity but immediately knew that it would set Sasha apart from his peers even more than he already was. Sasha started wearing tinted glasses when he was around this age. It was good for his light sensitivity and also good for Lars’ store customers, many of whom claimed to be disturbed by his tendency to stare right into people's souls. Lars felt feelings of guilt over not being able to be a good father to a daughter quite often. He would not talk to Sasha about this, though, and it was another thing that Sasha had to feel guilty about when he read Lars’ mind.

When he left home, he kind of didn’t know what to do with his presentation. He was no longer under his father’s care, so he could do whatever he wanted, technically. But being so very Sasha Nein, he just kept the same look. He didn’t have to think about it if he just kept it all the same. He never let his hair get long, he never wore feminine fashion. He ditched the androgynous childlike overalls and just moved on to men’s clothes. He probably kept a few pairs of womens clothes just in case. But probably could never get himself to wear them for some reason. He’d sooner skip out on whatever event would require them anyways and convince himself that he had better things to be doing than something frivolous. Besides, men’s clothes were just more practical for the type of odd job work he was doing. He just assumed that there was something really wrong with him because of what his childhood had been like, like the absence of a mother had messed him up somehow. [This man had a heavy Freud fan phase, sorry. It definitively shaped him and it is obvious lol.] I can see him just not understanding this aspect of himself at all for a long time. Spending a long period of his life “correcting” people to let them know that he was in fact a woman by birth. He just felt some sort of obligation to always “eliminate social falsehoods to avoid later conflict” and figured that was the right thing to do. He didn’t allow himself to engage in gender euphoria at the expense of others’ “mistakes” the same way that had been so formative for Otto. By doing this, he unknowingly held back his own confidence and self-understanding for years. As he shadowed all sorts of assorted jobs, he eventually found himself pursuing something regarding his burgeoning psychic powers, working under Otto. Otto was quick to question exactly what Sasha “was”, because he felt that there were some obvious connections to his own childhood. I mean, you don’t just find trans people often back then. (Except you do when you are psychic. This is part of the deal. More psychics are LGBTQ+ and they tend to find one another easier. This almost feels canon to me...dunno) Sasha had always been the master of repressing his feelings, and Otto was basically like “Hmm okay. Smoke this weed or something. Think about your gender. I implore you. I am going into your little square head and we are going to figure this out, alright?” And Sasha was nervous working under him at first because he had no clue the job was going to become about himself. Sasha preferred not to think about himself at this point in his life, only to think about the work and research he was doing. At least the research was really interesting at Psychonauts HQ. But Otto easily made him feel on edge. All this introspective stuff was difficult for him. But Otto sharing his stories and feelings about transgenderism and aromanticism helped him significantly.

Otto was able to describe things like this in such a fundamental way that made them seem like irrefutable scientific fact. And Sasha started to understand and believe it. And he started to internalize it. And this internalization led to acceptance. And for the first time ever, Sasha loved himself. Otto offered him his home-grown hormones he had been taking and gave him a lot of general guidance. Sasha started to feel a real sense of brotherhood, of guidance and understanding. He had never worked under someone and not felt lesser than them before. This was different, this was personal and special. Sasha finally had a real friend. Also he was totally a man. Wow.

Raz: afab, but given a gender nonconforming name due to Aquato traditions. Grew up feeling fine "being a girl" for a while. It was more like he was fine with being a sister, because his relationship with his siblings was good, especially with Frazie. He was okay with having a label like sister or daughter because it was defining his life through his loving connections with other people and that was very real and accurate to him, he didn't even think about the female part (this is me projecting. cough). Raz's experiences with gender are very much tied to his psychic powers. He was never as close to Dion as he was to Frazie. Frazie also had a "boy's name" and Raz always figured that the whole name thing was why he felt the way he did about boy stuff. After Frazie reached a certain age, though, it became clear that their feelings were not the same. She didn't want to share psychic things with him anymore, and she didn't want to be called a boy name anymore. Raz could not understand this at all. Frazie felt like these were things that for her own identity to evolve properly, she would have to drop, and deep down she had always known that. But Raz doesn't feel that way at all, in fact he has always known that the boy name and the psychic business was more him than anything else possibly could be... Raz takes great joy in “pretending” he is a boy, pretending he is a famous psychic...he gets his first cases of gender envy and gender euphoria from magazines of Sasha Nein. Shapes his whole new identity on him because of it.

He comes out to Frazie. Frazie is understanding because she is a psychic and she can sort of secondhand feel what he is feeling and believe it despite social influence that would lead her to not understand what being trans is like. After coming out to Frazie, they decide to start acting like they're playing a game again, just not psychic stuff this time. Frazie makes it clear that they can’t do that anymore. Raz takes on a silly persona oftentimes, and the two act like they're playing a game where Raz is an action hero man. So she gets to keep treating him like a boy all the time. Augustus and Donatella become suspicious when the so-called "game" seems to be taken too seriously, in that everything Raz does seems to be to the end of not being seen as a girl anymore.

Now this is the 80s, but Dona is also from a long history of showbiz. I like to think that Dona had a brother who was exceedingly fruity and on occasions other than performance, gender nonconforming. Meaning that she had been forced to think of the idea of gender fluidity before. Which is part of the reason for her gender nonspecific naming of her children in the first place. Augustus cares very deeply about Raz here and wants to make sure he is faring well with the others. So I think Raz is confronted by Augustus and reluctantly comes out to him when asked if the whole "pretending to be a boy thing" had grown more serious than just some sort of game. Gus was extremely welcoming to the idea, even if he couldn't completely understand it, he was hit with this sudden pang of intense empathy [it's the psychic thing again]. Donatella finds out the result of the conversation thru Gus afterwards. Dona encourages Dion to give Raz his old circus clothes and a few other old things they were holding onto just in case. Dion does not get what is happening. Over time the whole family gets it and they decide it is for the best. Raz has been performing better and has been so much more happy since this development. The only concerning part at this point was his increasing interest in psychics...

Yada Yada the events of PN1 happen. Lili is his first real crush. He never thought a girl would like him back and is honestly thrilled at the development of getting to have a girlfriend like a real boy would. He decides to keep his transness to himself when it comes to Lili. He doesn’t want to feel like an imposter. When Raz gets to meet Sasha, he does everything in his power to make Sasha think that he is the number one coolest boy in the world. Sasha really sees himself in Raz for reasons he can't quite put his finger on...I mean it's not like he acted anything like that at his age. [It's the transness and the 'tism] When Sasha finds out that Raz is trans, he suddenly realizes what it felt like to be Otto all those years ago when he began his mentorship. Raz is scared and embarrassed that Sasha will tell on him but instead receives a cool and collected "It's okay, I used to be [a girl] as well." And Raz is absolutely mind-blown. He can't believe it. The two have a talk about their experiences that is like a much more dry version of he and Otto's past discussion. He doesn't mention that Otto is too, or Milla. The general standard in this universe is that people just don't talk much about being trans publicly. You just have to learn to accept it and adjust. Some of the 80s taboo has to creep in there and make people at least not used to talking about it openly, even if not out of shame.

When Raz finds out about the hormones situation and how it is in fact not illegal drugs fueling an addiction (lol) he goes to Otto like "hang on who all here is like that!! Like me and Sasha?" And Otto is like "oo-hoo doctor-patient confidentiality!" And Raz is like "Please, I just don't want to feel alone!" And now Otto knows that Raz is trans too and he is very happy about this information because to him, Raz is like the perfect blend between a young version of himself and a young Sasha. And Otto knows he isn't going to use this information for bad so he tells him that it is himself, Sasha, Milla, Norma, and now Raz.

GIANT THUMBS UP. I broke Tumblr a couple times trying to post this.🏳️‍⚧️

#it deleted all the tags i wrote before bluhhhh #uhm um #keep in mind i wrote this when i was very sleepy like a week ago #so if there is poor wording or something know i was impaired on account of sleepy #tried to proofread but i am a skimmer by nature #just realized i didnt address otto's name situation.... i dont have a full hc for that yet other than it isnt his birth name #sasha and razputin are both birth names they stuck with in my hc #with sasha being gender neutral name and my raz 'aquato naming tradition' hc #hcs #ask #razputin aquato #sasha nein #otto mentallis #.txt #OMG IT FINALLY POSTED. HI.

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camille-bee · 2 years

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Ep 1 we see viserys constantly defend daemon from the council and have his back until the heir for a day rumor. And daemon calling viserys weak and being upset because his own brother didn't trust him enough to name him his hand and then being exiled.

Ep 2 daemon stealing baelons dragon egg because he wants viserys attention and viserys was about to give him that attention until otto had to intervene. And then later in the ep daemon saying "he never knew how to be king" to corlys. And then corly egging daemon to fight the war on these stepstones and implying how weak viserys is as king but daemon having none of that shit even though daemon himself agrees.

Ep 3 as soon as viserys offers his help on the war daemon basically rejects the offer by going on a suicide mission and deciding to end the war on his terms.

Ep 4 daemon returns to kings landing, bows to his brother and they share a nice moment in the throne room and the garden. Later on, Daemon tells him that "he is king, his word should be law" and viserys calls him "a plague" and exiles him again.

Ep 5 even though he is exiled damon returns to kings landing and viserys let's him. Because at the end of the day they are still brothers.

Ep 6 daemon misses his family. And he is on a self imposed exile.

Ep 7 how the tables have turned. Viserys offers daemon a seat back on the council. He is the first to approach daemon. He is the first to offer a lifeline on their brotherhood. Daemon rejects him, almost cruelly. But he is acting from a place of hurt.

And then ep 8. Throughout the ep we see how daemon is constantly looking away from his brother, he can't stand to see him in such a fragile and weak state. When him and rhaenyra are in his bed chamber daemon goes straight to business because he doesn't want to acknowledge that viserys is nearing the end of his life. Viserys recognizing daemon and the relief and happiness when he sees him. Daemon fiercely protects his brother when alicent arrives making remarks on how she is "helping him". And then the throne scene... omg daemon helping his brother up, picking his crown up, both brothers walking side by side and viserys actually letting daemon help him. Once viserys realized it was daemon trying to help him, the way his body sags in relief.

Daemon putting the crown on viserys head... this is all daemon wanted. To be by his brothers side and help him. And I think for the first time daemon respects viserys as king.

I cannot believe the best scene for me in the show was improvised by matt and paddy 😭

#daemon targaryen #viserys targaryen #hotd #daemyra #house of the dragon

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presidenthades · 8 months

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I am doing very minor revisions of Daemon’s Handbook (mostly formatting and continuity errors), and I wanted to do some behind-the-scenes commentary before too much time passes and I forget my original thoughts. Here’s Chapter 11!

(Note that these commentaries aren’t canon to the verse until/unless the author writes them into the series. I might change my mind on a few points later, but these are the thoughts I had while writing.)

In my early outline, the big scandal in the last chapter was supposed to be Luce and Aemond getting caught in flagrante by somebody aligned to Otto (the servants’ passages scene in Chapter 9 didn’t happen in this version). I was writing it as a parallel to the Episode 4 brothel scene, so I was going to have it take place in the city somewhere, and there was going to be a lot of drama with Luce and Aemond being forcibly separated while Daemon searches for Luce. But the pacing was off and the necessary sequence of events was too contrived, so we got the version that currently exists in the fic.

I kept wondering if it was plausible Clement Celtigar to be stupid enough to unwittingly act as Otto’s lackey. I decided the answer is yes. I try not to character bash, but the Celtigars make it too easy. 😭 Seriously, read about them on the ASOIAF wiki (and look at Edwell and Bartimos’s pages).

I imagine that Otto pretended to be more familiar with Rhaenyra’s side of the family than he actually is, and he dropped some hints (without outright saying it, because like Daemon thinks in this chapter, young men want to believe they come up with their own ideas) that Luce favors Clement, and that she enjoys visiting the library late at night. Then Otto had the note forged in Aemond’s handwriting and left it for Luce. I’m sure this scheme was a lot smoother and sneakier than my bullet points can convey.

I picked the library as the setting so I could play with the trope in a lot of Aemond/OC fanfics (which I really enjoy! But I also enjoy flipping tropes) where Aemond and his love interest rendezvous in the library.

ASOIAF has names for hours of the day (eg hour of ghosts), but GRRM hasn’t revealed all the names. So I extrapolated names for all 24 hours of the day. “Hour of the cat” in the forged note is 11PM.

I spent a while debating how badly Luce injures Clement. I considered making it a lot more grievous (with a knife involved, as a redux of Driftmark), but that would have drastically darkened the story’s tone and changed the fallout from the event. So Clement gets away with a bit of testicular torsion, which Dr Google tells me *can* be serious if not quickly given medical treatment.

Bartimos comes close to calling Luce a whore. If he said it, Daemon would probably have given him the Episode 8 Vaemond treatment. Again, that would’ve been a very dark tonal shift, so Barty stays quiet.

Clement wants 8 sons and 2 daughters because a crab (his house sigil) has ten legs total, two of them being pincers. But Luce doesn’t care about the symbolism, and she ain’t having that many kids.

Normally Luce would have sneaked off alone to meet Aemond in the library. But she brings Rhaena because the argument with Daemon is still fresh, and she’s smarting from his (reasonably accurate) accusation that she doesn’t think enough with her upper brain. So in a strange way, Daemon’s diatribe benefited Luce because if she’d gone alone, there wouldn’t be any witnesses to defend her.

Daemon’s snooping around the girls’ letters is also proving to be surprisingly helpful several years later! If he hasn’t read Aemond’s letters to Luce, Daemon wouldn’t notice the handwriting discrepancy.

Daemon spends the entire fic paranoid about Hightower schemes, and he’s FINALLY right! He finally gets validation! 😂 But he also has zero evidence, literally just gut feelings and vibes.

Baela has been having a great time with Cregan Stark (who canonically has a thing for bisexual tomboys). The Northerners are staying around longer than most wedding guests because the distance is so far, so Baela has plenty of time to keep seducing him. By the time Cregan leaves, I imagine he’s going to make an offer to Baela, but she’s going to put him off for a while longer; she’ll *probably* accept him eventually, but she’s not sure Moondancer will like the cold.

After Daemon confronts Aemond, Aemond goes to the Tower of the Hand to confront Otto. I’m not sure what exactly they say to each other, but afterwards, Aemond tears his room apart looking for the present he planned to give Luce three years ago. I don’t know where he eventually finds it, but it’s probably a laughably obvious spot he totally overlooks at first.

Jace has already been setting up a gossip/whisper network in the Red Keep, so she’s able to hear first thing the next morning about the library incident.

I like Paddy Considine’s take that Viserys *does* have the “blood of the dragon,” he just forces himself to control his temper because he’s trying to be a good king. Also, when he’s a walking corpse in Episode 8, he has the wherewithal to draw his dagger and threaten to cut out Vaemond’s tongue. Viserys would 100% call for Clement to be gelded and gossipers to be silenced. So, for once, Viserys strongly approves of Daemon’s violent streak. 😇

I spent a while debating Clement’s punishment. He kissed Luce when she didn’t want it, which, for most girls, would unfortunately be swept under the rug since he’s the heir to a notable house. But things are different with the royal family. Luce doesn’t want an unnecessarily cruel punishment; she was friendly with Clement until recently, and in Chapter 7, she’s restraining Aemond from violence against Ulf. Even though she’s quick to defend herself by any means necessary, she’s by no means a sadist. She was also deeply affected when Aemond lost his eye (which she partially blames herself for), which leads to her resisting punishments that involve maiming.

Jace also advocates for less violence, but not because she’s a softie. She prefers the diplomatic route, which is harder if you’re trigger-happy to forcibly amputate your vassals. But she knows a monarch has to make hard decisions sometimes, and she’s willing to do what it takes. For example, if Clement had done worse than kiss Luce, Jace *would* want him to be gelded, and she’d have no qualms about it.

Helaena did not have a vision or prophecy about Aemond and the book. She just saw him panicking in his room and figured out what he was up to, because she’s his sister and she knows him. 😂 And because she knows him (and Luce) so well, she can deduce they’re probably going to patch things up, so she packs his bags for him.

No God’s Eye duel in this verse, but I couldn’t resist slipping in a reference about Luce jumping into Vhagar’s saddle 😭

ASOIAF book readers can probably deduce what Joff’s candle is. And that’s all I’m gonna say about it until we get Joff’s POV. 👀

Joff kisses Daeron’s cheek purely to distract Daemon from asking more questions about the candle. Daeron is now very confused. I like to imagine he runs off to Jace and Aegon’s room screaming “Aegon, Joff kissed me, what do I do????” But Jace and Aegon are newlyweds so Aegon isn’t going to appreciate Daeron’s interruption 😂😂😂

That’s it for the Handbook commentaries! Fingers crossed that I have an update this weekend about my next fic in this AU-verse. 🤞

#my writing #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #meta #hotd fic #house of the dragon fanfic #daemon’s handbook

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rbolick · 2 years

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Books On Books Collection - Lyn Davies

Books On Books Collection – Lyn Davies

A is for Ox (2006) A is for Ox: A Short History of the Alphabet (2006)Lyn DaviesCasebound, doublures matching slipcase. Slipcase: H205 x W133 mm. Book: H197 x W128 mm. 128 pages. Acquired from The Old Bakehouse, 13 July 2021.Photos: Books On Books Collection. There are numerous histories of the alphabet. Some are even titled the same as Lyn Davies’ A is for Ox. Several books take the…

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#Lyn Davies #Otto Ege #Richard J. Hoffman #Stephen Fischer #The Folio Society

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oliveroctavius · 9 months

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If it's okay to ask, I'm curious what your initial thoughts are on the potential plot for the Insomniac Spidey sequel game! I'm still sorting my thoughts, but one of the things that definitely crossed my mind was how the story trailer reminded me of both TASM films (eg. terminally ill Harry as a major villain, the main villain plot being forcibly 'healing' the world, and we know from the MM post-credits scene that Connors is behind Harry's treatment with the symbiote, etc.), and while the main issue with the eugenics stuff in the TASM films is how it was framed as being both real and good and neither Peter nor the narrative ever challenges it, rather than just the villains being villainous and it could go differently here, I'm really not sure how optimistic to be at this point in speculation - but it's also not an aspect of the trailer I've seen much discussion on either.

having gone over the original game again, (geez I forgot how hard they went on the Spider-Cop bit) I still don't feel as pessimistic on this plot point as others seem to be... yet.

MSM1 had parallels to TASM1 too, without fumbling the ball as hard. Main villain starts as an ally researching limb replacement, partially for themselves; plot turning point is a Oscorp gene-cure-mist being released into the city with terrible results. It helps that Insomniac's medical science is just 50% less bullshit. Devil's Breath names a real genome editing tech (CRISPR by viral vector) and genetic diseases that aren't just disabling, but fatal (cystic fibrosis, Huntington's) as the intended target. There's no TASM-esque twist where victims with improperly edited genes become a ''devolved'' ''lower lifeform'' or turn murderous. They just get sick.

Otto doesn't consider using Devil's Breath on himself. His condition isn't even genetic. Dumb to have to point that out, but TASM Curt compares limb loss to agonizing death by disease (??) and proposes his amputation be "fixed" with genetic modification (???) while Otto's focus is on (embellished) mobility aids. The idea that brain damage from the arms made Otto evil is brought up and then refuted. Martin and Otto have social + financial motivations which overlap with but aren't fully defined by disability. They're well-intentioned extremists: they want to take down a crooked capitalist who's politically untouchable... time to poison random civilians!

Going by these trends: I expect Harry to have a fairly realistic diagnosis and to use real assistive aids alongside any sci-fi treatments (he has a cane for a second in the trailer). I expect that if he did inherit his condition it was from his mother, and the only person who might be weird about that is Norman. Insomniac Harry's previous vision for "healing the world" has been air and water quality, green energy, and wildlife health. If this changes, I expect a more nuanced explanation than "idk he's sick and crazy now".

Will I actually like it? Who knows! (Like MJ was fine. but she's not My MJ.) I'm still crossing my fingers for sentient alien Venom because I think it would make everything more interesting to have Venom the character rather than just the plot device.

I'm truly more worried for Curt--most of the Insomniac plotlines are pulled from modern comics. (For the love of god please let's not do Shed.) But comics Devil's Breath was a poison that killed only certain genetic lineages, and someone made the call to avoid that minefield of weird ideas. So. Hope remains that this will not be the TASM movies' kind of freakshow.

#had even more thoughts during this ask abt Martin Li and TASM Electro as well as the treatment of Oscorp but this is already so long #ps4 #/ ableism #curt connors #harry osborn

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nyxrev · 11 months

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Just some stuff I noticed, from small to serious.

旦那 (dan'na)

K so I found it funny Black Sperm calls Saitama “dan'na” bc the term can mean different by its context, eg. an honorific for husband, patron, or master, etc. I believe it's translated to English as “Boss” which is most fit but when I first read it I automatically associated it with “master” of the more softer nuances and not the rougher casual “hey boss” sort of vibe, so I was surprised like, huh BS is unusually deferential to Saitama, esp. bc the rest of his speech pattern is fairly casual. But, makes sense bc he's seen enough to know. Also makes sense bc on one hand, rn he has to pretend to be a benign, goofy “monkey” …idk how ppl see a black teletubby n just believe it's monkey but s'ok, story logic… to get by heroes, hence the casual goofy monkey speech, but on the other, he absolutely does not want to cross Saitama, so he chooses to refer to him politely.

master (of a house, shop, etc.)

husband: can be used to refer to your own, or smb else's husband (add honorifics). Some other ways of address: 夫 otto, 主人 shujin,

sir; boss; master; governor: used to address a male patron, customer, or person of high status

patron of a mistress, geisha, bar or nightclub hostess; sugar daddy (パトロン)

alms; almsgiver: Buddhism, usually written as 檀那 for Buddhist context

As you can see, a non-exhaustive list of what it can mean. With automatic association to house -hold and patronage nuances, my mental image got mildly confused for a moment. Like can you really see an obeisant, nice little BS who humbly serves Saitama with utmost formality??

I feel myself make an uneasy face I cannot quite describe.

Also it was good to see him ask about Manako, but I do want to know if she's alive and safe.

Homewrecker? No it's (unlicensed) Demolition. Opennenoorn Get Out

^after the scene when Forte got hit, Fubuki told Saitama to go with her and said:

あなたの住処を破壊した張本人に会わせてあげる

Basically the reason she gave for their excursion was, “I'll let you meet the person responsible for the destruction of your residence.”

Whom I thought was Psykos bc at the moment, we saw parallel scenes of Tsukuyomi guy at her cell and Tatsumaki had not arrived, but Saitama doesn't know Psykos yet, so when Fubuki made her speech, Saitama confused without so much as context to who all the ppl on scene are, then Tatsumaki arrives most destructively, he must have thought it could be absolutely no other than the “chibi” who threw Genos on a wall.

Which is why Saitama went “I see, the one who destroyed my home was…(Tatsumaki) ಠ ◡ ಠ##”

But I had to wonder who did Fubuki really mean to refer to with “the person who destroyed your place”? If Fubuki meant Psykos how would Saitama react?

Fortress Haven or Death Maze?

Hige Coffee: lit. Beard Coffee (lol)

Well it's good to see Max and Shadow on break, but an emergency call cuts it short, and amidst the commotion, one of them (I assume it's Max) laments the place is so big it's easy to get lost.

What can I say, it's almost like the new HQ, with its concentrated yet puzzled pyramid structure, complete with a moat of self-isolation, remotely omniscient surveillance, a manufactured façade of paradise with luxury security atop seven hells of hidden disasters eager to be released, and so on…almost like it's a direct visual representation of HA's operation hierarchy: centralized system of power and economic monopoly, yet rife with office politics, factions at tension, dysfunctional management, corrupt unstable foundation, and unsavoury secrets to hide.

Cohesively staffed, an impregnable fortress. Yet improperly managed, an exit-less death maze.

And I say it bc the place is not only complicated and spacious but also uniform. Its grand Jenga-Lego stack of cluster structures look so similar, if not literally the same, from every angle, if you rotated it on a turntable, I couldn't tell the sides from each other nor which faced NESW at first.

Of course, part of why they got lost is, it's newly built, heroes just moved to residency, obviously, it's not out of expectation for heroes, or anyone who's never step foot there for the matter, to be unfamiliar with exact floor plan details of such a vast, complex structure, its design sleek at best and dystopian at worst.

But I must wonder, for I feel like it will become a problem later, HQ's isolated vast complexity… If it doesn't fall apart from its core first, what with overpowered resident, destructive visitors, and let's not forget the basement full of a nasty little monstrosity of pets the corrupt executives keep for cash flow they don't use to pay heroes.

Air and Blue Fire: Cyborg Surgery?

On a scale of beneficial to suspicious, question.

Notice the text right next to Air? It's an SFX.

キュイーン kyui—n (onomatopoeia): like a whirr sound effect, low sounds of machinery at work, usually small technical ones which contract or spin. For example, camera lens… how ominous, don't you think?

While Forte is eager to get out of bed and make a quick work of the noisy monsters who disturb his already bad day, blow off convenient steam, it looks like Air can't even emote natural, human facial expressions, and it unsettles me so!

If you look long enough it almost looks like he is controlled like a puppet Σ(-᷅_-᷄⁉︎)

As for BlueFire, I can't tell if it's an empty sleeve or a prosthetic arm but hopefully he got an arm with extra spicy flamethrower fingers so he can be extra terribly efficient. He'd probably max his specs to roast evildoers out of spite. I sense one step to Genos. Same age, similar personality.

Bonus: List of Every Hero Present

aka. faces you see the last moments of your life, if you happen to be a mischievous monster at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Top panel: Golden Ball, Spring Mustachio, Red Muffler, Funeral Suspenders, D-pad, bottom L hat prolly Gun Gun, Shooter, Smile Man, Skunk-Boy Gasmask, top L corner Eyelashes, Mohawk Hacker, Brass Knuckles guy, Great Philosopher, Magic Trick Man, Darkness Blade, Bones, prolly Blue Fire's back (front of Bones), All Back Man? (didn't he quit?), Butterfly DX, Kusari-Gama, Mushroom, Horse-Bone, Twin Tails, can't tell who the mop of dark hair next to her is but prolly Blizzard member, Tank-Top Al-Dente, Tank-Top Rockabilly, another two Blizzards by the suit,

Bottom: Eyelashes, Brass Knuckle, Spiked Club Blizzard, L- Max, Genji, Stinger, Tank-Top Mask, Tank-Top Racer, Crescent Eyebroll, Green, Wild Horn, Skunk Boy Gasmask, Tank-Top Al-Dente, Tank-Top Rockabilly, a sliver of Darkness Blade, Heavy Kong.

Fubuki Group? More like Mafia?

Look at how they stand. Look at how they walk. Look at their formation. If each of them were as strong as Needle Star got, fought as well as the support team cooperated, if equally valued and given opportunity to contribute their expertise, they truly would be formidable, fearsome foes, and reliable allies Fubuki can trust to hold their own and not constantly worry about. Of course part of the problem is Fubuki's own insecurities but we know she has the potential to be a great leader if she put her focus on the right path and used her power to maximum beneficial strategy

Counted around 33 members without Fubuki or Saitama. Rowdy Suit Gang. Mountain Ape n Lily stand out and you can see them from far away.

Extra Bonus: Spot the Spy 6-6

Nah cuz I really need to talk about the cursed Tsukuyomi guys. I brewed some praises n some toasty roasty jokes. I need to cook some wacky, juicy conspiracy about them. Just a little gentle speculation.

#opm #one punch man #opm manga #hero association #thoughts #saitama #overgrown rover #black sperm #tatsumaki #fubuki #forte #air #cyborg #body modification #organization #suspicious #blizzard group #traitors #among us

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