#plot twist she’s queer

[ethereal-maia]

Marya Hendriks from the Six of Crows duology by Leigh Bardugo

[hussyknee]

If you aren't reading KJ Charles's books I sincerely do not know what you're doing with your life.

[glimpsesofeuterpe]

... so normal™ about Loкi doing time jumps

[thebibliosphere]

Talking in a group chat with some fellow author friends earlier, and the subject of our book reviews came up. As in, "What's the favorite thing anyone's ever said about your book?" type thing.

I had to pause and think about it because people have said a lot of nice things about my work. That it's the queer goth love child of Jane Austen meets Terry Pratchett, for one. That Nathan's disability arc meant the world to them. That Vlad's blatant neurodivergence made them feel seen. That Ursula's profound loneliness made them feel less alone.

But the one thing I see time and time again that makes me smile is the word "comfort." So that's the one I went with. That people find my work comfortable.

So you can imagine my surprise when someone chimed in going, "Noo, don't say that! Your work is so good!"

I won't lie, it took me a solid ten to twenty seconds to realize that she thought someone describing my work as being "comfortable" was an insult and not one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.

And maybe I'm just several types of mentally ill, chronically ill, and too beaten down by the world, but I do not understand what is wrong with comfort. Comfort, for me, is a physically unobtainable goal. You might as well rank it up there with getting transported into another world and becoming Queen of the Fae. For me, reading comfortable narratives where people get taken care of with compassion and love is a fantasy.

And, like, just objectively speaking, something being comfortable doesn't mean it's not good.

It doesn't mean it's not thought provoking. It doesn't mean conflict-free or lacking moral dilemmas. It means people feel safe reading it, knowing those things will be resolved.

I'm not trying to keep my readers on edge with anxiety, always wondering where the next plot twist will come in. That's not my style of writing. It's not my goal. It's fine if it's yours, but like... Comfort is not an insult, and it makes me a little sad to think some people think it is.

[j-psilas]

Will we ever get anything quite like Code Geass again?

I don't think it's possible.

Code Geass is Japanese nationalist propaganda disguised as a global political drama, disguised as a military mecha show, disguised as yaoibait, disguised as a teen melodrama, disguised as a high school romcom, disguised as a Pizza Hut commercial...

...except those layers aren't layers at all, but are instead comingled in a giant snake ball of insanity.

The lead writer, Ichirō Ōkouchi, only ever worked as an episode writer for other shows prior to Code Geass, and never took the helm of an anime series ever again. And it shows. [EDIT: Several people have pointed out his other lead writing credits to me. So I misread Wikipedia—sue me. I maintain that this guy is a better episode writer than he is a lead writer.]

The minute-to-minute pacing is impeccable from a mechanical standpoint, with tension and stakes rising to ever-higher peaks, balanced out by the slow simmers of the b-plot and c-plot. It keeps the viewer on the edge of their seat at all times. Meanwhile, the large-scale plot is the most off-the-wall middle school nonsense I've ever seen, continually surprising the viewer by pulling twists too dumb to have ever have been on their radar—and therefore more effective in terms of raw shock value.

"Greenlight it!" was the mantra of this anime's production. It must have been. It has, in no particular order, all of the following:

Character designs from CLAMP, the foremost yaoi/BL group in Japan at the time—for characters who are only queer insofar as they can bait the audience, and only straight insofar as they can be more misogynist to the female cast.

Speaking of the female cast, hoo boy the fanservice. We've all seen anime girls breast boobily, with many cases more egregious than Code Geass, but there's something special about it happening immediately after—or sometimes in the middle of!—scenes of military conflict and ethnic cleansing.

Pizza Hut product placement everywhere, in every conceivable situation. High-speed chases, light slice-of-life scenes, intimate character moments, all of it. Gotta have Pizza Hut.

The anime-only Pizza Hut mascot, Cheese-kun. He wears a fedora.

The most hilarious approximations of European names—which I would love to see more often, frankly. Names like, I dunno, "Count Schnitzelgrübe zi Blanquezzio."

A depiction of China that is wholly removed from any modern reality, with red-and-gold pagodas, ornamental robes, scheming eunuchs, and a brainwashed child empress. There's a character named General Tsao, like the chicken.

Inappropriate free-form jazz in the soundtrack, intruding at the most unexpected times.

A secret cabal not unlike the Illuminati, run by an immortal shota with magic powers, holding influence all across the world, at the highest levels of government. They matter for approximately three episodes.

An unexpected insert scene of a schoolgirl using the corner of a table to masturbate. She's doing it to thoughts of her crush, the princess Euphemia—because she believes Euphemia to be as racist as she herself is, and that gets her off. This interrupts an unrelated scene of our protagonist faction planning their next move, which then resumes as if uninterrupted.

Said schoolgirl, in a fit of hysteria, threatens to detonate a worse-than-nuclear bomb in the middle of her school. She then goes on to develop an even more destructive version of that bomb, and become a war criminal, in a chain of cause-and-effect stemming from the moment she finds out that Euphemia wasn't actually that racist.

A character called "the Earl of Pudding."

A premise that asks us to believe that the name Lelouch is normal enough that he didn't need to change it when he went into hiding as an ordinary civilian. "No, that's not Prince Strimbleford von Vanquish! That's our classmate, Strimbleford Smith."

The collective unconscious, a la Carl Jung, within which the protagonist fights his villainous father for control over the fate of humankind. After this is over, the anime just keeps going for about ten more episodes.

An episode in which a mech tosses a giant pizza.

A gay yandere sleeper agent who can manipulate the perception of time.

Chess being played very badly, even to the untrained eye. Lelouch frequently checkmates his opponent by moving his king. This goes hand-in-hand with the anime's crock of bad chess symbolism.

A fictional drug that can most succinctly be described as "nostalgia heroin."

Roller-skating mecha in knightly armor, and some of the most sickass mecha fight choreography that I've seen.

I could go on and on, but I think you get the picture. This anime is what the average Westerner in 2006 thought anime was, and it was made in a confluence of factors that cannot be replicated. I've never had so much fun watching something that I found so... insulting. Repugnant. Ridiculous. Baffling. I love it sincerely.

Catch me cosplaying Lloyd Asplund at a con sometime, or maybe even the big gay loser himself, Lelouch vi Britannia.

[lemon-bread-slice]

average queer friend group on halloween + someone's little brother they had to take with them

vvv larger group shots below the cut vvv

"...She's right behind me isn't she?"

Fwhip and Joel show up, Pearl mysteriously replaces Lizzie (reverse limlife)

Plot twist it's turned into an Empires school reunion (shout out to the gap between Jimmy and Lizzie lol)

[sp0o0kylights]

Indie horror filmmaker Eddie Munson, high off his first big (underground but notable) success, knows the movers and shakers of the film world have their eyes on him. 

They're just waiting to see if he was a one hit wonder before they open all the doors he's been trying to kick down. 

His next upcoming film is his chance, his shot at finally making it. Of being like Rob Zombie and the other creators he looks up to that masterfully blended metal and horror. 

This is his golden ticket. 

The project starts off smooth. His last success has greased the wheels, and things fall into place faster than ever before. 

He's got the best idea for this insane haunted house story, a true "mazes in mazes" type of deal with a queer twist. A real look at how a place can haunt a person just as easily as a ghost can.

 Everything's going swimmingly--until one of his leads drops out the day they're due to start shooting.

No call no show's, and later, Eddie will find out the guy got a last second call back to be a contestant on one of those Love Island bullshit romance gigs (and laugh his ass off when the main love interest takes one look at Billy Hargrove and goes on a five minute rant about ugly mullets on national television) but right now? 

He's fucked. 

He's called in every favor he has for this film. Maxed out every credit card he owns, tapped every contact, got on his hands and knees and begged his rising star journalist best bud to help him market it. (Which Nancy agreed too, for way less cash than she should have.) 

 Eddie can't get anyone on the phone, much less find a replacement actor and the amazing place they rented, that is so dark and wonderfully eerie, is booked out the rest of the year as an AirBnB. 

If he doesn't film now, he loses it all.

Cue the other lead, unknown theater actor Steve Harrington, watching his hair pulling, tire kicking, 'cursing and hopping while holding a toe' mental breakdown and asks why Eddie himself doesn't act in it. 

"Just go full Kevin Smith man. Act and direct." He says, with an easy grin. 

Jeff, Eddie's tried and true videographer, trades glances with Gareth and Grant (Eddie's long used special effects and makeup team, who double for about twelve other jobs because they're also his best friends and they're all in this together, make or break.)

"We don't really have a lot of other options." Gareth hedges. "You're already using me and Grant as background characters." 

Eddie, hands fluttering around his face as though trying to wave away this entire situation, squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a pained hiss. 

"Fine, fine!" He announces with the air of a man running towards a fire. "Fuck it, this is our one shot and so help me I will be shooting it!" 

Steve politely hides a laugh with a cough. 

"Chuckle all you want big boy, I'm going to tragically romance you so hard people will forget both of our characters actually live." Eddie snarls.

Steve, the handsome bastard, just winks.  "Looking forward to it." 

Eddie blushes, but hides it with a surge of frantic energy, conveyed by lots of yelling and moving and getting the ball rolling. 

Two days later, Steve would give the performance of a lifetime down on his knees, covered in a literal pound of fake gore, booty shorts and nothing else as he sobbed about how a lover could become a home. His hands clawed at Eddie's jeans before resting a tear stained face on a slim leg as he bent his body towards Eddie like it hurt to be away from him. 

Eddie would later receive equal praise in his own acting during the scene, with the world and every reporter in it asking how he conveyed an otherworldly panic so beautifully throughout Steve's performance. What was he thinking, to evoke those expressions on his face? 

The way his own pale hand, unmarred by blood and acting as a metaphor for the plot, would come to stroke Steve's cheeks.

Eventually he'd come up with a smooth polished answer that cheekily pleased his audience, but nothing would ever come close to the truth. 

("Eddie I've known you since grade school." Jeff said that night, a scant few hours after they'd wrapped. "You can act man, but not like that." 

Eddie made a wild "shut up" gesture, looking frantically over his shoulder before admitting; "You saw how close his face was to the prince of darkness!? I was seconds away from popping a boner next to his lips, in front of the 4K camera!” 

Eddie bounced into Jeff’s face so he could hiss: “He fucking had his chin on my thigh, Jeff, and I am only a man. A mere mortal!" 

"So we're gonna unpack all of that later." Jeff said finally, when he'd managed to get his mouth working and Eddie back out of his personal space. "But dude, we've talked about you calling your dick the prince of darkness." 

Eddie flipped him off.) 

One year later and critics named Corroded the best horror film of the year, praising the camera work, practical effects, and how there wasn't a soul alive who was surprised to hear Eddie and Steve were dating after their explosive on screen chemistry.

No one ever quite understood the prince of darkness jokes or why Steve mentioning it made Eddie blush, but that was a secret to find out later. 

Today on WIP’s I have no intention of writing, indie horror movie AU!

[claymoresword]

The Queen And Her Knight | Chp: 7

Alicent Hightower x Knight Fem!Reader

Summary: Alicent Hightower against her better judgement, falls in love with her sworn protector. Can she bear to fight her feelings or will she finally just give in?

Wordcount: 4.2k

Pairing: Alicent x Reader

Warnings: power imbalance, angst, fluff, smut, fingering, g!p reader, dialogue heavy, mentions of alcoholism

Note: you asked and after a year i finally delivered! this one definitely moves the plot forward but i also managed to get carried away with the smut somehow lol. if you wish to skip it just keep a lookout for the asterisks

enjoy!

Taglist: @blackbirdv98 @flaiire1805 @alicentfangirl @memarrymilf @thegayassbit-ch @vantestark @hauntedfictionland @livinginafantasysposts @baddie-on-a-mission-xx @evolutionsglory @darthtargnister @dxrewclf @rozmrazaradelfinow @wlwfanfictionss @karsonromanoff

You hold up the crown for all to see. The aged relic is a circlet of valyrian steel, set with blood-red rubies. Although only few remained, the squared cut gemstones were still a captivating sight to regard nonetheless.

The crown was once worn by Aegon The Conqueror – it seems fitting that it now be passed down to his namesake. 

The dragon pit is engulfed in trepidation enough to stifle, as you gently place the crown upon Aegon's head.

It fits like a glove. A reassuring and altogether unsettling prospect.

“Let the Seven bear witness, Aegon Targaryen, is the true heir to the Iron Throne.” A declaration that rattles the silence. Your voice travels far, it ricochets off the towering walls and high ceilings.

You watched as the High Septon assisted the King back onto his feet before bowing at him in respect. 

Your hand firmly resting on the hilt of your sword as you incline your head the same way when Aegon glances at you.

As he shifts his stare toward his mother, Alicent performs a curtsey. Followed by the same from Helaena. 

Aemond holds his older brother's gaze for a moment before inclining his head in respect as well.

“All hail His Grace, Aegon, Second Of His Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord Of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.” The High Septon announces as Aegon turns to face the mass of people watching the ceremony.

“Aegon the king!” You call out, and soon the crowd erupts, loud bursts of shouts and claps, all celebrating their new king.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

While you stood in the dowager queen's bedchambers, your expression twists incredulously as Alicent endlessly fusses at your breastplate. Soon, moving behind you to fasten your white cloak.

“Your Grace, I can manage this on my own, truly.” You insist once more, feeling rather queer. A queen should not be tending to you, in fact it ought to be the opposite. 

Alicent remains determined, and stubborn.

“Hush.” She scolds, and you say nothing else.

“There we are.” She says, smoothing out your green tunic. After accepting the post as Lord Commander, you have since abandoned your own house colors. 

Even the breastplate you have chosen for today was a foreign one, no longer the golden kraken, now intricately carved with the sigil of House Hightower instead. 

Uncanny as it may be, you could not deny that it was beautifully made, and generally easier on the eyes compared to your old armor, it also fits far more comfortably.

You catch Alicent's eyes upon you, now suddenly feeling exposed, by the way she was observing your frame. 

Shameless and brazen; you can't help the way it stirs something within you.

“Alicent.” You snatch her attention abruptly, forcing back your amusement.

“Hm?” The dowager queen replies, lost for a moment. It seems she only realizes she has been caught when your eyes meet. A visible blush rapidly creeps up to her face in a way that makes your heart flutter.

“You seem to be eyeing me like a meal to devour.” You point out, causing Alicent to avert her gaze entirely from embarrassment.

Gods, how desperately you wish to kiss her right now.

“You look exceptional in green,” The queen utters, her hand slips up your forearm.

In truth, her admittance doesn't surprise you. 

Fascinating how she can be transparent one moment and entirely unreadable the next. 

This notion alone draws you in beyond reason. With Alicent, you are always acting on pure desire and instinct. 

She has completely enchanted you.

“Is that right?” You ask regardless, moving closer.

Alicent nods, her bottom lip set in between her teeth. The sight of her like this always drove you mad with the urge to ravage her here and now. 

The older woman instinctively slips her arms around your neck. It takes all of your control to only place a hand on the small of her back and nowhere else, trailing tender kisses along her jaw.

“Do you enjoy seeing me in armor, Your Grace?” You whisper. 

As you part her hair away from her neck, you allow your lips to meet the shell of her ear. Relishing in the way Alicent trembles at your touch.

“I do, very much.” She answers, and as you pull away, Alicent does quite the opposite, leaning in to capture your lips with her own. 

Open-mouthed and eager, she kisses you with enough fervor and passion to leave you aching for more.

You can hardly help the way your hand slips lower to squeeze her rear, pulling her flush against your groin.

Alicent gasps into your mouth at the sensation, now feeling the bulge in your breeches. 

She kisses you once more before pulling away, nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck to hide her flushed expression.

“Lord Commander.. you are being terribly indecent.” The queen's tone betrays a playfulness, one that exhilarates you.

“I cannot help it, my queen. You drive me half-mad with want.” You remark, as your hand slides up her back in a languid manner.

Alicent exhales against your neck. She pulls you in even closer, welcoming your touch.

“Be safe today.. return to me in one piece.” The other woman utters, you meet her brown eyes, warm and enticing.

“If the Gods will it, I shall.” Your response is likely less than reassuring, but the dowager queen does not say anything to confront this.

Alicent merely occupies herself by tracing along your features delicately with her thumb. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment, unable to hide the smirk that tugs at the corners of your mouth, basking in the attention she is giving you.

“Kiss me again.” You ask, and the queen moves to do exactly that, but a knock on the door causes Alicent to abruptly pull away, resuming a proximity.

The suddenness of her action nearly knocks the wind out of you and your smile quickly dissipates. 

It aches, in truth, having to sneak around like this. You mislike feeling like a dirty secret– the queen's mistress.

Or perhaps her whore.

“Come.” Alicent calls, she composes herself as she straightens out her gown. A heartbeat before her father enters.

Alicent's demeanor shifts in a way you have been privy to in the past. It appears effortless the way her expression sets impassively, her hands clasped firmly over her stomach.

Now she is queen Alicent, again. No longer the woman you had been kissing just moments prior.

Otto has his jaw tightened in a similar fashion, studying you in a way that forces you to shift uncomfortably, despite yourself. “Lord Commander, it is time for us to depart.” He finally utters.

You nod, reaching for your sword belt. “Very good, m’lord.” 

As you fastened the belt upon yourself, you observed as Alicent retrieved what appears to be a piece of parchment from her bedside table. The dowager hands it over to her father, whispering something to him that is intelligible to your ears. 

Even as you move slightly closer under the guise of arming your steel, you are still unable to make out the sudden, and evidently secretive conversation being had between them.

You vow to sate your curiousity and confront Alicent about this later; after you have successfully delivered terms to princess Rhaenyra.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

Your arrival at Dragonstone was expectedly greeted with nothing but asperity– the threat of blood shed felt imminent as you stood on the bridge.

Your army, alongside Otto's, staring down the few men who remain loyal to the Rogue Prince.

Rhaenyra Targaryen has evidently fashioned these men to act as her newly appointed Queensguard.

The notion of an agonizing death looms over all of you as her large dragon remained perched a few feet away. 

Syrax is silent– as if she possessed the capacity to understand the situation at hand.

You could sense the ground beneath you rumble every time the dragon took a breath, sending a never ending chill down your spine.

“You all are traitors to the realm.” Queen Rhaenyra declares, her late father's golden crown perched upon her head.

“King Aegon Targaryen, second of his name, in his wisdom and desire for peace, is offering terms. Confess Aegon as king and swear obeisance before the Iron Throne.” Otto pauses, and Rhaenyra only acknowledges the statement with a scowl, before a hardened expression takes over her features once more.

You observed as Daemon scoffed. His grip on his steel continued to advise you to keep a firm hold on your own sword.

“In exchange, His Grace will confirm your possession of Dragonstone. It will pass to your true born son Jacaerys upon your death.” The Hand offers, generous in any other circumstance– if it was not Rhaenyra's birthright that has been stolen from her.

“Lucerys will be confirmed as the legitimate heir to Driftmark, and all the lands and holding of house Velaryon.”

“Your sons by prince Daemon, will also be given places of high honor at court. Aegon the younger as the king's squire, Viserys as his cupbearer. Finally, the king in his good grace will pardon any knight or Lord who conspired against his ascent.” Otto finishes, and the rogue prince is quick to retaliate.

“I would rather feed my sons to the dragons than have them carry shields and cups for your drunken usurper cunt of a king.” Daemon sneers, yet you notice Otto's resolve, he remains unfazed, confident.

One you utterly lacked, in truth. You kept an eye on a second dragon, red and much larger than Syrax, orbiting the sky.

“Aegon Targaryen sits the Iron Throne. He wears the conqueror's crown, wields the conqueror's sword, has the conqueror's name. He was anointed by a Septon of the Faith before the eyes of thousands. Every single symbol of legitimacy belongs to him.” Otto claims, unwavering.

This works to agitate Rhaenyra enough, her Lord husband appears more than prepared to behead any one of you currently standing before him.

“Then there is Stark, Tully, Baratheon. Houses who have also received and are at present, considering generous terms from their king.” The Hand adds salt to an already gaping wound.

“Stark, Tully and Baratheon have all sworn allegiance to me. As have your House, y/n.” Rhaenyra states, addressing you directly, taking you by surprise for a moment before you found the sense to meet her hard stare.

As you remain silent, Rhaenyra continues.

“I understand if you don't recall, you were still suckling at your mother's teats when your father bent the knee.” The Targaryen remarks, whether intended as a jab to your pride, it matters not, as you refuse to feel it.

“But he swore his allegiance to me, nonetheless.”

You shift your weight from one foot to another, hand resting on the pommel of your sword. “I am not here on my father's behalf.” You respond curtly.

“Then who are you here for?” Daemon inquires, he quickly continues before you can conjure a reply.

“Are you so cunt-stricken by that whore you call your queen that you are willing to abandon a sworn oath? Where is your honor?” He taunts, and this time you do feel it, like a lance to the gut.

You open your mouth to respond, but Otto quickly interjects before things get the chance to escalate further.

“Grand Maester.” He calls, extending his arm. Maester Orwyle then passes him a piece of parchment, the same one that you had witnessed Alicent give to her father in her bedchambers.

Your confusion sets in once more as Otto bravely advances forward, passing the same parchment to Rhaenyra.

The queen, in her fury, snatches it from Otto, unfolding it to discover its contents. 

It was only then you noticed that it was not a letter– rather, an illustration. A page torn from a book.

“What the fuck is this?” Daemon curses, ironically sharing your sentiment.

Rhaenyra remained silent as she stared at the page in her hands, her expression still unreadable.

“Queen Alicent has not forgotten the love you once had for each other. She eagerly awaits your answer.” Otto utters, and your face falls once you recognize the tears that escaped Rhaenyra's eyes. 

A sinking feeling that you've been trying to set aside all day, re-emerges, inexplicably, you reach for your sword.

“She can have her answer now stuffed in her father's mouth, along with his withered cock. Let's end this mummer's farce.” The rogue prince hisses, as he unsheathes his steel, you immediately do the same. 

In the next few moments the noise of metal scraping against scabbard charges the air as the rest of your soldiers along with Daemon's draw their weapons.

“Ser Erryk, bring me Lord Hightower so I may take the pleasure of killing him myself.” The prince consort's command is broken by the sound of Syrax shrieking, flailing her body violently.

You flinch, but do your best to ignore the incessant pounding in your chest as you gripped your sword tighter.

Then, by a miracle, Rhaenyra subdues her uncle with a single word. “No.” She declares, Daemon is forced to set down his sword. He does it begrudgingly, and you slowly do the same.

“King's Landing will have my answer on the morrow.” The queen utters sharply before turning away, disappearing through her guards.

You stand frozen in place. 

Somehow, no blood was spilled today. The simple prospect of Alicent's care for Rhaenyra seemed enough for the Targaryen to forsake her own claim to the throne.

It appears you shall return to Alicent safely, as she asked. You should be relieved, and yet you feel nothing of the sort. 

The thought of the dowager queen welcoming you home, with a warm embrace, doesn't fill you with a sense of joy like it usually would.

It only makes you ill.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

Since returning to the Red Keep you had chosen to keep away, sequestered in your quarters. Only your thoughts and a flagon of strongwine to keep you company.

You realize that you ought to visit Alicent, assure her of your safety, but still, you couldn't bear it, not today. 

Endlessly replaying the moment in your head, Otto's words pollute your thoughts.

Alicent has not forgotten the love she once held for Rhaenyra, that much is evident.

So where does that leave you? 

You are no longer certain you even possess a space in Alicent's life, let alone in her heart.

She loves Rhaenyra, and you are only a mistress.

You wipe away your tears, it is no use crying, you are simply mourning a fantasy. Queen Alicent is beyond your reach, she always has been.

As you continued to lose the battle to your anxieties, you fail to hear the main door of your bedchambers creaking as it gets pushed open.

Alicent catches you throwing your head back as you emptied the contents of your goblet. Her expression displaying palpable concern as she approaches you.

“Why are you drinking?” She inquires, and you scramble to your feet, perplexed in the way she somehow managed to enter your chambers without you realizing it.

“Your Grace.” You address her, inclining your head as you propped your hand against the back of the chair.

Alicent appears taken aback by your formality, nonetheless she moves to touch your cheek, but halts immediately when she notices the way you recoiled.

“What is the matter?” The older woman asks carefully, studying you with such concern that it weakens your very being.

How could she possibly place you above Rhaenyra Targaryen?

“I was convinced that I was going to die at Dragonstone.” Your voice breaks.

“But you did not, thank the Gods.” Alicent utters in relief, she grabs your arm, still unaware of your true grievance.

“The only reason my men and I were spared was because Rhaenyra commanded it as such.” You state, pausing for a moment to steady your breathing. 

“and, she only did so because of you.” You accuse, and Alicent straightens her back, retracting her hand once more.

You mourn her touch, but force yourself to look into her eyes as you await a response.

When nothing comes, you decide to speak again.

“Do you love her?” You ask boldly, prepared for any response, but the one Alicent gives you is barely anything at all.

“I–” She stutters after a prolonged silence, and you scoff, moving past her to sit on the edge of your bed.

Alicent takes large strides after you, eager to explain herself. 

“Rhaenyra and I, we were children together, we did everything together. She was my closest friend.” The dowager queen starts as she moves to stand directly in front of you.

“Perhaps I was in love, at one point. But that was an entirely different lifetime, y/n. A life I do not even recognize.” She admits, and you finally look up at her.

Alicent tentatively wipes away the tear that managed to escape your eye. 

Despite yourself, your lips meet the palm of her hand as you hold it close to your face.

The dowager queen smiles.

“I am in love with you. Only you.” Alicent reassures, and your heart soars. Whether it is a lie to spare your feelings or a vulnerable truth, you are still thankful she cares enough to utter the words.

For now, that is enough.

“I love you too, so much.” You respond, still gazing up at her.

Alicent's auburn locks fell loosely down her shoulders like liquid fire. Her white nightdress, although modestly crafted, still managed to highlight every delicate curve and dip of her body.

She looks utterly breathtaking. 

The queen snaps you out of your trance when she leans down to meet your lips with her own. A searing kiss that immediately leaves you breathless.

Alicent whimpers softly as your tongue enters her mouth, overcome with an urge to feel her, you place a firm hand on her waist, guiding her to straddle your lap.

The dowager does so with no protest, her knees quickly settling in between your hips on the bed. 

Her core snug against your clothed groin, she feels so warm, so intoxicating.

*

Alicent grinds against your lap instinctively, causing you groan into the kiss. The queen seemingly overtaken with desires of her own, pulls away to begin trailing open mouthed kisses from the shell of your ear, down to your neck.

Your breathing quickens.

“Fuck– I cannot believe how perfect you are.” You say, and Alicent leans back to look at you. She does so comfortably with your firm hand supporting her.

“I am far from it,” She argues, and you are quick to shake your head in disagreement, guiding her close once more by the nape of her neck.

“You have no idea how ready I am to commit treason just to prove you wrong, my queen.” You remark, and the sound of Alicent's giggle fills you with hope for the first time in days, before she connects your lips once more.

**

As the kiss deepens your hand wanders the dowager's frame, almost like second nature, you slip it underneath her nightgown, feeling goosebumps form on her thighs from your touch.

You squeezed her rear, indecently causing Alicent to grind on your lap once more. Swallowing her gasp of pleasure as she does so. 

“Y/n..” She utters against your lips, urging you on.

Soon you glide your hand towards her inner thigh, inching even closer to her core. “Can I?” Your ask is met with an eager nod. Alicent kisses you again, harsh and wanting.

“Touch me.” She says, and you do just that, finding your way to her sex. You begin to add pressure with your palm, causing Alicent's hips to buck against your touch.

She is dripping for you already– meeting your touch desperately. As you continue to move your hand against her sex, Alicent's gasps and mewls grow louder, she results in burying her face into the crook of your neck.

“Gods–” You marvel, kissing her shoulder before prodding a finger at her entrance. 

The queen grips your shoulder tighter, nodding profusely as words continue to fail her. 

You take it as permission to enter her. Doing so with two fingers, your breath hitches at the feeling of her walls contracting deliciously against your digits.

You would kill to feel her do the same around your cock.

“Yes, oh, Gods–” Alicent pants as you continue to pump in and out of her. Less than a minute has passed and it seems she is on the verge of release already, muttering incoherently against your ear.

She squeezes your fingers once more, pulling an involuntary groan from you, she is so wet you can feel her dripping down your hand, causing you to nearly soil your breeches.

“Come, come for me, beautiful..” You coax curving your fingers inside of Alicent, and that is all it took for her to fall apart completely.

She climaxes around your fingers with a cry, the sight of her writhing on top of you was truly the most captivating thing you have ever witnessed. You cock pulses with need, straining painfully against the fabric of your breeches.

Alicent's chest is heaving violently as she meets your gaze once more, her eyes dark amidst her pleasure. 

“Thank you, for that.” She mutters before kissing you deeply, and you can't help but chuckle.

“No, my love, I should be thanking you.” You insist, and Alicent cares not to argue at this moment. Her lips meet the base of your jaw, a confidence overcomes her when she touches your breasts before moving her hand further south, squeezing your cock.

She gapes at the sensation, with a look of palpable arousal that again, nearly causes you to finish right then and there.

“You are so hard..” Alicent remarks in awe, squeezing you harder, earning a guttural noise from yourself.

“Yes, all because of you.” You confer, and the dowager bites her lip to mask her delight.

The sight drove you mad, as it always does. Quickly grabbing hold of her nightdress, Alicent allows you to lift it over her head.

You toss the garment carelessly across the room. Alicent moans anew as your mouth makes contact with her bare and sensitive breasts. You begin licking and sucking as though your life depended on it.

Another shudder of pleasure nearly immobilizes the Alicent before she grips a fistful of your locks, harshly pulling your head back.

She ground her hips again, her weeping sex pressing down on your hard cock.

“Please, I want to feel it inside me. I want to feel all of you.” Alicent pleads, and the prospect alone makes you lightheaded.

You don't plan to deny either of you the pleasure any longer.

Alicent lets out a yelp in surprise as you flip your positions, placing her flat on her back as you quickly remove your tunic, finally fumbling with the laces of your breeches before removing them as well.

The queen's stare falls onto the large shaft in between your legs, she reaches out to touch your cock, but you quickly grab ahold of her hand, pinning it against the bed as you settle on top of her.

Alicent whines in protest, arching her back helplessly, causing your breasts to press up against her own.

“Please,” The dowager queen begs once more, and you smirk with a sense of triumph, in this moment, you truly believe that Alicent is yours to worship and love entirely.

“So impatient.” You tease, placing a chaste kiss against her cheek.

If Alicent aimed to respond, she was not given the opportunity to, as you thrust your hips forward, skillfully sheathing yourself inside of her. 

Alicent releases a strangled moan at the sensation, whimpering like a maiden as she grows accustomed to your size. Her nails dig into your back, she lifts her leg to wrap around your waist, inevitably pulling you even deeper inside of her as you begin to move your hips once more.

“Fuck– oh my Gods..” Alicent curses, motivating you to move harder against her, with every stroke, her cunt welcomes your cock eagerly. Squeezing your girth in a way you've never experienced before.

Alicent eagerly intertwines your hands, the intimate noises of your coupling filling the room. 

You groan with every thrust, feeling dangerously close to your release, you kiss her once before speaking.

“Alicent, I– I won't last much longer.” You admit, and Alicent moans at your words, anxious to witness your release.

“Don't hold back, darling.” She coaxes, letting her leg fall away from your waist, you pump inside of her again and then once more before pulling out.

Alicent continues to hold your hand as your entire body tenses, she watches your strained expression as you reach your peak.

She gasps as your seed spills onto her belly. 

Your breathing grows erratic as you ride out the shockwaves from your release. 

The feeling of Alicent's soothing hand caressing your forearm manages to coax you back to reality.

Alicent chuckles lightly as you collapse next to her, attempting to gain your bearings. 

The queen turns to face you, placing a lingering kiss on your stomach, before doing the same on your chest. 

You smile weakly, threading your fingers through her auburn locks, still feeling as though you are in a dream.

One you never wish to wake from.

“I love you..” You declare, just above a whisper.

Alicent beams, her thumb tracing across your bottom lip. “I love you too, y/n.”

[precious-little-scoundrel]

|| Radio ||

Requested plot points? ☑️

Circa: early February 1944

Immediate previous fic: Favorite Escape

Summary: when your hodge podge radio won’t work, who should ya call? Probably the flight engineer

Warnings: usual universe warnings apply, 18+ but nothing very alarming really happens in this one, references to others are made, some potential slut shaming in the beginning if ya squint? perhaps some queer baiting but it’s the Buckies rolling around on the flooor, they’re one massive queer bait lbr, it’s not me. Also. My shit Crystal Radio making descriptions- don’t come for me I haven’t made one and I spent five hours falling down a rabbit hole as to how the guys made them in the camps and at the end of the day I said: screw it! And went with one of the Brit’s scenarios 🍻

Edited only by my tired little eyes, full warning and have mercy 💋

Also, just a note I feel compelled to make- this fic centers around women in the army, in a war, which they’re spending under dire conditions in a POW camp. Yes there is love here, there is also hierarchy and discipline and the enforcement of that does not make one character or another necessarily callous or less loving. They are their ranks first and foremost as all signed up for.

“They’re forging papers, you know.” Maureen broached the topic to Egan one day, late February and when her cheeks were still bruised from Ida’s book.

Bucky paused his tracing of a map, sooty finger trailing along a river with the same incomprehensible name as its twin running parallel, he didn’t know anything about papers or anyone making them and she knew that. “Who?”

“Good ones. Identification, passports.” She enumerated.

“Who?”

“The Poles. The ones with the-“

“-the liquor.” he finished for her, remembrance and condemnation heavy in his wry tone. “The ones you stayed out all night with.”

“Stayed long enough for them to get drunk enough to show me.”she replied, without heat, which was surprising.

“Some grand plan of yours, huh?” He bit back a laugh, it was a fine way to cover her ass for being insubordinate. It was a way he’d likely try if he was in her place.

“No.” she swore instead. “Just luck, I happened to see them. They got careless. Maybe an answer to all Jack’s prayers.”

“Yeah. Anything to give that rosary a break.”

“Yeah.”

“You asked them?”

“What for?”

Bucky regarded her with thinning patience but something kept him from snapping, the feeling of a riddle still to be solved. “For some papers.” he clarified, measured and intent, she knew how much easier that would make their plans for Ida.

Maureen shook her head, glancing down at her twisting hands, “I didn’t want to-“ her mouth twisted too, “-I wanted to ask a superior first.”

Bucky considered that for a moment, slightly touched at her newfound wisdom, “Why not ask Buck?”

She shook her head again, auburn hair curling under her chin just so, even here in the stalag she had some traces of the old charm. “He’s got too much to worry about for me to be bringing in hypotheticals.” she was so upset by something she would not even meet John’s eye and he felt a slice of remorse for how he hadn’t even noticed the ground down change in her since she got here, his drinking buddy and the soft fleshed rival of merry old English days was a gruff and battered and sullen woman; being a red blooded American male, he regretted that dismal change. “And I'm worried about what to bargain with. What can I promise? We haven’t got much and I don’t have— there’s not much anyway, but what we’ve got I didn’t wanna promise. Not without-“ she still hadn’t met his eye, he tracked hers; a furious roving of pale blue back and forth across the floorboards and it made Bucky itch.

“Who signs these papers?” Bucky asked, thinking the logistics through, knowing she’d perk up if he brought them up.

“Haven’t a clue. Maybe they haven’t figured that part out yet. I don’t know. I just know they’ve got papers.”

“Good ones.”

“Yeah.”

“We haven’t got much.” he agreed, clicking his teeth in thought, “What’d you give them for the liquor?”

“They just invited me.”

“Didn’t have to lend a hand or nothin’?” he balked and Maureen threw him a glare that seemed more hurt than rage, and chastened by a voice inside that sounded much like his mama’s, he amended with sheepish humor, “Hell, feel like lending a hand myself these days, if it’d get me a whisky.”

Her gnarled fist curled white in her lap, she managed hoarsely, “They just wanted to talk about home. To someone who hadn’t heard about it a million times before.”

“They got cigarettes?” he asked.

“As most common payment for their booze -they’ve got enough to insulate their shack three deep.”

“Cigarettes won’t cut it then.”

“I’ve been thinking.”-

“Yeah?”

“The radio. I’m the only one who doesn’t think it’s worth the risk but, I know, it doesn’t matter, it’s happening. Gale’s going to keep trying. And if it works-“ she rubbed at her eyes, tired and unsure, “-that’s quite the bargaining chip.”

Bucky nodded slowly, eyes narrowing as his smile grew a touch broader, “News of the outside world.” he was half in agreement, “Buck asked for a week. Been four days.”

“He’s stumped.” Maureen retorted instantly. “And he’ll stay that way and he’ll go nuts and you’ll go die going over the fence and then he’ll have no reason left not to die too.”

Bucky whistled, low and chiding, “You’re full of rainbows today, Candy.”

“You know who he oughta ask.” she shook off the barb. “But he won’t. And I don’t want him risking it for this thing anymore than anyone else, but you all want it so bad, and they’ll shoot us for it if it works or not. I’m not asking her. But you would. Might as well get shot for it working, right? Isn't that what you said yesterday? You know who he should ask.”

Bucky’s keen eyes showed the moment it dawned on him, his eyebrows shot up and his mouth sagged and he ran a weathered hand over his face, “Awww shit, Candy.” came garbled behind his palm. “Ah shit.” he said again with conviction as he shoved the hand into his pocket, wretched acknowledgment of her point clear on his face.

“I didn’t want to suggest it, told Ida it’s a fucking dangerous thing and I’ll never forgive if— but you all—“

Bucky grounded aloud, “Nah, nah she’s -Lu would solve it.” he muttered, shushing her. “Demarco really pummeled you the other day, huh?” he added, and that got her to meet his eye, she looked spooked and a little incensed, “Saw him fuckin’ you up behind B compound but sheesh, s’like he hollowed you out worse than a jacolantern; yer shifty as hell.”

“He-“ Maureen still felt like blanching at the memory of Benny’s terribly correct opinions, his disappointed eyes and his fist full of her flight jacket asking her what in the living fuck was wrong with her besides a concussion, a sick childhood and an ever nauseating jealousy of Buck Cleven’s paternal time and effort, “-he had some admonitions. After…after the other night.”

Bucky hummed, shitty smirk taking up residence on his face, “How ‘bout that.”

“I’m gonna be better.” she muttered and Bucky felt for her, could almost taste the echo of his identical and hollow determination to climb the mountain of bad habits when weak from spuds and pneumonia. He told himself the same every morning and fell into bed condoning his failure every night, like a ritual.

“You’re gonna get us those papers.” he corrected, shoving off the wall to come near her, give her the full Major treatment and maybe a friendly hand, “And you can promise your drinkin’ buddies news from the radio.”

Maureen nodded in understanding, no joy or animation left in her green eyes. She used to enjoy a bit of subterfuge, now she only felt hollow misery at the thought that she'd dragged Lu into this, too. This risk she hated so much and yet no one cared. Lu would be glad to be dragged in, it’s true, she was itching at the chance to be useful and to make Gale proud, it’s how the girl was wired. It’s how most girls were wired, Maureen supposed, desperate to make Gale Cleven approve. Lu’s enthusiasm wouldn’t make the sight of her being made to kneel in the mud and have a bullet put in her head any easier, wouldn’t make Maureen feel any less responsible for it when her lifeless body thudded to the earth.

All that lovely goodness stamped out.

Over a radio.

Bucky’s hand felt too hard and too big on her shoulder. He had gone before the vision cleared, mud and wire and the freezing main square at Ravensbruck fading back to the musty bunk room. Maureen shook herself and stood up to make herself somehow appealing, reamniante some semblance of the cheerful rashness that had led her to the Polish combine in the first place: she found it hard to inspire. She’d like to count that a victory but she knew better, she wasn’t reformed she was just tired.

A washed face and a fake smile and the promise of news from outside would have to be enough to bank all their risks on, it would have to be.

“Crank,” she greeted the man in the hall, flashing him clean, water brushed teeth and her gentlest, freshly soot lined eyes, “I’ve been tasked by Major Egan with an errand, spare a minute to babysit me?”

__________________________________

Bucky finds Buck Cleven in his own bunkroom, Demarco outside on watch and that’s all Bucky needs to know to guess the radio is out and Buck’s working like a fiend yet again to make it work. Sure enough, he’s hunched over the table with it, mittened hands shaking from cold and exhaustion and a sheen of sweat on his forehead despite the paltry sweater he wears.

Bucky walks in and Gale gives him a soft, acknowledging glance before continuing to his work. Bucky takes up his usual place behind Buck’s left shoulder to watch and Buck, being used to it, goes on.

“My little Kriegie Marconi, huh?” Bucky allows the nagging impulse he has felt for weeks while standing in this position to finally exert itself, and his forefinger lifts and swirls in the curling gold strands of hair at the nape of Gale’s neck, his friend almost bolts away but then seems to choose a prey’s tactic and just stills, goes very still and Bucky scritches the scalp beneath his grab in assurance he don’t meant anything by it. He doesn’t think he does, at least.

Gale, wary and with a voice close to mechanized it’s so stilted, inquires with ever-present politeness, “You alright Bucky?”

It’s better than that whole ‘major’ business; getting called Major as if that meant shit anymore. “Yeah, ‘course I am.” Bucky rakes his fingers through the hairs there at the nape of that dainty neck, scritches the scalp with all four of his main ones, and uncovers a white long scar sliding round once he lifts the hairs there. “Why wouldn’t I be? Gonna be a father soon.”

Buck does jerk then, away from his touch and wheeling his chair around to glare at Bucky; it’s an impressively executed little pirouette and John misses the feel of his warm neck and oil soft hair. “Jesus John.” he reprimands.

“We’re gonna get outta here Buck.” John swears, he’s so sure of it because he cannot in all his thinking and predicting ever imagine a scenario where they don’t, and he chooses to think it’s not delusion but a good omen. “Ida’s gonna have that baby and when it’s safe we’ll all meet up.”

Gale is looking at him like he’s his own father again, Bucky knows that look, it always makes him equal parts ashamed and desperate, “Jus’ like that.” Gale mocks in a husky gust.

It’s devastating, and it’s intended to be, and Bucky could bear that with better humor if he could still touch Gale and his hair. “Just like that.”

Gale hums and it’s a mean sorta vocalization that makes Bucky’s heart thud and his skin prickle hot, it’s the kinda noise you kiss off a person, he thinks, but it’s Buck and so he doesn’t know what to do with it. “It’s gonna get you killed.” Buck is saying instead and Bucky lets him, “I know you all think she’s cracked up and maybe she has but it wouldn’t hurt to listen to Kendeigh sometimes when she’s tellin’ ya shit that a five year old could accurately guess, -goddamn it.”

His voice rose to a strong rage by the end and Bucky takes a chair opposite him, sick of standing there like a dumb dog waiting for his scolding to be over. “So what.” Bucky challenges him, “We just wait around and Brady pops out a child and the krauts let us keep it and it’s our new mascot and we all sing zippidy doo da, huh? Huh, Buck?”

Gale’s hands fell away from his face with a slam to the table, a shocking degree of anger showing for a split second and it gave Bucky an odd degree of gratification. “I jus’ want you to find a plan with better odds.”

Bucky sniffed and leaned forward, went in for the kill and Gale was looking at him like he expected it, like it was his turn to play daddy to everyone here and Gale for once was so beaten down he wouldn’t just allow the changing of the guard, he was close to angry at its lateness. It made Bucky’s heart thud.

“I’ve been listening to Kendeigh.” Bucky refuted briefly, “And we’ve got a plan.” Gale gave him a tired look of encouragement to go on, “How long’s it been since you slept? Huh, well, we got a plan. Practically perfect, or it will be, just need the radio.”

“Ain’t giving this away.” Gale said, “Not for anythin’, even useless.”

Bucky patted the table top in easy assurance, if he could have reached Buck’s thigh, he’d have patted that instead, “No, no, don’t need to give it away, just need it to work. So,” he softened his voice and his eyes tightened, “I’m callin’ Lu in.”

Oddly, Gale does not fight it. Not aloud, at least. There’s an anguished look of hate on his face and Bucky mirrors it. It’s for this place and the fucking awful choices they have to choose from every goddamn day.

“You run this by Ida?” is all he asks.

Bucky pops his flaking lips audibly, “What, need us both gangin’ up on you to agree? She’ll sign off. Smith’s an officer. Gotta remember that sometimes, Buck.”

The way his Buck swallows hard and dry contradicts his words, “I do remember that.”

“Really?” Bucky’s mouth gives a soft smile of doubtful incredulity and Gale’s mimics it, mournful but a smirk all the same, “Feel like she should answer to ‘Gale’s Baby’ these days. Lieutenant Smith who?”

Gale scoffs, “Careful now.”

“No really, she’s an officer and she wants to be treated like one. It’ll do her good to have work. Her kinda work.”

“Could get her killed.”

“Layin’ in her bunk could do that.”

Gale grunts, its sounds like an agreement.

“So I say Lieutenant Smith gets put on radio detail. Like her goddamn job description suggests. Huh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Gale lets out a shaky agreement.

“Aaaaand,” Bucky draws it out as he rises again and saunters over to Buck who is ready for him and loose this time, “how bout I go back to bein’ the one you’re frettin’ ‘bout all the time. Got me almost jealous of the girl. How ‘bout I do. Huh?”

Gale’s scoff is fond as anything as he looks up at John with cheerful derision, “And you ‘bout to be a father? Make me an old man? Fuck no, ya looney.”

“Alright.” Bucky concedes with hands up in surrender before lurching forward and grasping Gale’s rickety chair back by its wobbly spokes and hefting it partially off the ground, beautiful and outraged prude of an occupant still seated in it, “Then I’ll play daddy and put you to bed, how ‘bout that.”

“John Egan for fucks sake-“ Gale’s fists pounded on the meat of his shoulders and his outraged protests wafted against Bucky’s neck and his jabbing knees collided with the meat of his thighs and Bucky hadn’t felt so close to him or so happy to be alive since England.

“Major sir, the hell is goin’ on?” Demarco’s tame inquiry from the safety of the doorway made them both lose their grapple and they collided together onto the floor, bunk bed barely missed by their heads and the hapless chair mixed up between their limbs.

Bucky grinned, hip sore from his fall and kidneys suffering from Buck’s trapped elbow there, “Puttin’ Goldilocks to bed.” he replied.

DeMarco processed that and the scene before him with grave sobriety before saluting lazily and turning to go, “Right on, sir.”

John did his best to rise up without further pinching Gale who was indeed trapped beside him and beneath him, chair legs wound between a lanky human leg in a puzzle that Bucky realized might take some caution to untangle without harm. Strangely, Buck wasn’t moving, he was just looking up at him like a cat would their clumsy master who has done somethin’ stupid which was a surprise to neither. It was so innocuous a look and so nostalgic, it winded Bucky with the realization he hadn’t seen it in ages, just as he hadn’t felt his boney ribs against his own and the feel of his elegant hands yanking him around in a fight. This miserable place really was stomping out the glow in the best people.

“Ya know Buck,” he ventured, clearing his throat for extra casualness, “I’ve missed you.” When Gale only kept looking up at him, perfect porcelain face with its unsettling scars and wary eyes without a lick of storm in them, John Egan grabbed his shovel and dug his own grave a little deeper, drug a finger down his cheek. “Missed all this.”

Bucky didn’t know what he meant by “this” but it felt safer and worse all at once, since he did miss Buck but he and Buck never used to hang out on floors with a chair as chaperone. Mercifully, Buck neither points that out nor moves away, acting very much like he needed to heaped on the floor with Bucky and a stray chair every bit as much as John did. Like it’s doing him good.

“And you couldn’t’ve jus’ said.” Gale murmurs with the softest eye roll of the century and Bucky feels like beaming and it must show in his face so strong and bright after a sunless winter that after a flash Gale’s cheeks flame from it and he averts his eyes.

“I dunno Buck, could I?” Egan asks one blushing cheek and Gale hasn’t got a good reply for that, so they just lay there on the floor.

“Go on now, get off me.” Gale doesn’t shove at him, he presses his hand to John’s forehead like he would a dog and John goes, obedient as one.

———————————————————————-

They found Lu with Murph and Benny and Brady, measuring out what seemed to be lot lines between Love Shack #9 and the next combine, boot scuffed perimeters already visible in the light snow and drawn in a decently tidy rectangle. There were guards loitering nearby, nosey as always with their cigarettes and their antsy dogs anytime someone did something out there besides piss or pace or stare at the fence.

“What’s all this?” Bucky inquired cheerfully, coming up to them with Gale, bundled and shivering behind him.

Benny looked up from tilling a furrow with his boot, right where Lu’s mittened finger pointed out. “It’s for the garden. S’posed to be spring before long.”

“A Chicago man oughta know better, Benny.” Egan snarked.

“Need us?”

Bucky sniffed, a casual set to his body that belied his quest, “Just the little one.”

Smith promptly looked startled, then eager. “All well Majors?”

“Need your advice on the color of my cufflinks with this suit.” Bucky extended his arm and beckoned her, “C’mon back in for a minute. One of you too, need a watch to go with the cufflinks.”

———————————————————————

With Benny on guard, Brady and Kendeigh having excavated the radio’s shell from the floorboard and table leg in which it resided, the Buckies stood over Smith’s small frame as she sat at the table and inspected the simplistic device with keen eyed appreciation for the construct.

“It’s really marvelous.” she assured Cleven, running her fingers over the carefully coiled wire and precarious pin.

Gale didn’t even crack a smile. “What’s wrong with it?” he asked instead.

She shook her head, a frown gathering. “Never made one-“ she cautioned.

“-but you get the idea.”

“Yes sir, I do.”

“So what’s wrong.”

Lu ran her fingers over the wire, again and again, the dusty metal not insulated, just bare copper, likely stripped from somewhere. It reminded her of early days as a cadet when they threw chicken wire mixed with hydraulic lines at herself and her fellow rookie engineers and told them to sort it, testing to see if they knew which was which. It had been so rudimentary she had wanted to laugh until she realized others were being flunked.

This was so basic she was stumped.

“Take your time, Lu.” Bucky spoke up after a burdened pause during which she could almost feel Major Cleven breathing down her neck.

“Candy, can I try with the headphone?” she asked at last, frustrated and out of her element, just a few months out of a plane and she had already lost her touch.

Maureen passed it over and Lu pressed it to her ear, not to discern what was quite obviously radio silence, but to imagine the whole process in reverse, track it down the cord all the way to the base, each possible breakdown of the conduction.

She fingered the ramshackle diode with burgeoning suspicion. “What’s your crystal?”

“That’s just…lead.” Cleven muttered.

“From?”

“Ground pencils.” Bucky supplied cheerfully.

Smith bit her lip, “We need sulfur added. Lead won’t conduct on its own.” She figured Cleven knew that, the grim and unmoving set of his mouth suggested so.

“Just- sulfur?” Maureen asked.

“If I had sulfur we could add it to the lead dust, ignite it and-“ Smith grinned at Kendeigh, knowing that she alone may have shared her enjoyment of a small conflagration from time to time, “burn it down and you’ve got something close enough to Galena. Just need a pinch of it should work.”

Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets and surveyed the mostly morose room. All except for the two girls grinning at each other over the hypothetical of a little chemistry experiment in a highly flammable wooden combine.

“We’ve got sandy soil.” Buck’s contemplative drawl spoke up, “Dunno if we could extract enough pure sulfur.”

Maureen stared back at Egan instead, “Other sectors have gotten portions of kits, chemistry kits, radio kits, they’ve been smuggled in with all sorts of stuff. Inside of a violin, oat bags. Nothing to fully build something. They might have sulfur. I could make inquiries and- well, Jack could pick it up next time the band goes over C compound to entertain the poor Aussie bastards.”

“How do you kno- nevermind, actually. Nevermind.” Bucky broke off, “Alright. Sure, why not. Ya sure that’s it?” he asked Lu once more.

She gave a helpless little shrug. “Gotta be. Or the wire’s dirty. Where’d it come from anyway?”

Gale gave Bucky a long suffering look as Bucky seemed to swell a couple inches and bounce back on his heels at the mention of his scrounging prowess. “The lamp.” he nodded above them all.

Jack Brady scoffed, short, clipped, betrayed, “That why it cuts out all the time? Strobed us so bad last night -thought the room was possessed.”

“Sacrifices Jack, sacrifices.”

———————————————————

Benny had hauled in enough water buckets to elicit some negative attention from the guards, and when the inspection came the inmates of the Love Shack insisted the drenched floors and table of the Majors’ barracks were due to sanitation post regurgitation. At night, with only one stolen torch light from Combine 15 to illuminate the endeavor, a basin of water beneath a smaller bowl in which lay their precious and recently procured ingredients, a science experiment began. The Majors and Ida gathered round, all looking as ghastly and spectral in the light of the flashlight as Brady’s fake ghost. It held the thrill of a bonfire night except for the stakes, which all in the room did their best not to dwell on.

“Zippo, Candy.” Lu gave the word and Maureen, with only the protection of Ida’s bent aviators to keep from a scorched cornea, flicked on her lighter and set the mixed powders ablaze.

It flamed up high and smelly, making Benny gag and mutter something about Meatball’s gas to a tittering Brady, and then died down to a yellow smoking ember.

“We should let it sit.” Lu surmised with a squeeze to Maureen’s only somewhat singed hand, her big dark eyes surveying the burnt bowl and their smoking experiment with glittery excitement at the possibility of success, “Let it cool, settle, maybe strain it. Can you get me a net? Oh Candy come now, get me a strainer?” she begged with a laugh as Maureen rolled her eyes at the idea of yet another trip to the Stalag Market for the most random items imaginable. If they hoped to not be suspicious, they’d need better lies or more money.

“How about cheesecloth?” Kendeigh tried not to grin indulgently- and failed- in the face of Lu and having recently been allowed to set something on fire

Lu kissed her cheek. “Cheesecloth would be perfect.”

In the end, cheesecloth did indeed prove perfect, and amongst the burnt dust of the combined minerals was a gritty little pinch full of the needed crystals. Or so Lu said, Gale agreed but the crease between his brows hadn’t lifted for two days; Bucky’s fingers had begun to twitch in antsy need to manually smooth them out. He imagined Maureen felt the same but she hadn’t said, uncharacteristically forbearant now she had some job to keep her sane. Even if it was playing fetch for Lu.

—————————————————————

“Well, this is it.” Gale muttered when the watch had been set once more, Murph and Hambone on the steps, Crank inside, Brady at the door, Benny at the window. Even Major Clark had joined them in the barracks for this final try and Lu’s cheeks were maroon from the attention even as her deft hands steadily pressed her concoction beneath its intended rod.

“Pass me the pliers, sir?” She asked and for a moment, the teacher became the apprentice and Gale fetched her the stalag forged tool, rudimentary like everything here yet the gripped and pulled and lifted same as the pliers back home. “You could check your look in this wire’s reflection.” She complimented Gale’s buffing of the copper wire.

He shrugged in turn. “Didn't wanna leave anythin’ to chance. That it?” he asked as her hands stalled and she surveyed her work.

Lu nodded solemnly. “Yes sir.”

Gale picked up the headphone from in front of him on the table like it was a gun he was about to bring to his head. “Here.” He extended it to her instead, “S’right, it was your job, you should be the first. Cmon.”

Despite her voiceless protest he pressed the headphones into her hands and Lu, never knowing how to disobey an officer, folded immediately.

For a good ten seconds everyone in the room held their breath as Smith pressed the headphone to her ear and gently wiggled the clothespin along the wire, searching and tuning, her face holding that old peaceful concentration they hadn’t seen since the last mission. She was at home with her mind tuned to another dimension. The pilots in the room knew that look, that was the look of someone at home with something that terrified them all the same, the gut swooping feeling of clearing the take off and sledding along the tops of the clouds. Wrong and strange and utterly incomparable to others, it was the closest to home one’s mind could be. Lu belonged somewhere on those electric currents and searching them out was like finding oneself again.

Then at last, Lu’s eyes sharpened out of their dreamy haze of concentration and she said, gentle as always, “It’s the BBC sir.”

💋 Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.

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[meangirls-imagines]

Could I request a Leighton x reader one shot where Leighton just recently came out and is new to the whole lesbian flirting thing so she tries to find out if reader is gay with the help of questionable internet advice?

Gaydar Issues

Description: Leighton is new to the Essex queer community and unlike her confident persona, she has no idea how to flirt. She meets Reader and develops a crush on her. She should not have gone to her roommates for help.

WARNINGS: fluffy as fuck, leighton being a gay baby, her roommates being dumb, leighton gay panicking.

Okay.

In hindsight, Leighton knew she shouldn't have gone to her roommates for queer flirting advice.

She had no other options.

Let's recap.

Ever since Leighton came out, she had found it difficult to talk to women in person and not behind a screen. She was two different people.

One had a seductive aura, luring her hookups in with a single smirk and making them see stars by the end of the night.

The other was a shy, nervous girl who had no idea how to flirt.

Leighton was struggling. She had tried to talk to Nico about it but him being a guy, gave her flirting tips that he does, which were gross. She tried to talk to Willow about it but the girl was no help. She flirted with athletes, who she had something in common with.

That was it! Leighton just needed to find someone who had something in common with her! Easy peasy.

Plot twist: it's not so easy peasy.

Leighton had decided to scout out her math class to see if she had any hot female students in there with her. She had one, and she had already hooked up with her and didn't really feel anything with her.

It had gotten to a point where Leighton was starting to give up, but as she walked out of class, she saw the most gorgeous girl talking to Bela, of all people.

Leighton froze as she looked at the girl. She was stunning, the smile she was giving Bela was melting Leighton's heart. The girl had on some black skinny jeans, white converse, a white crop top and a jean jacket on.

Leighton could tell she had great fashion sense, even if the outfit was casual. She could hear her laugh from where she stood and it became her favorite sound in the world. Before she could go over and introduce herself, the girl hugged Bela and walked the other direction.

Bela began walking towards Leighton as the blonde fell in step behind her.

"Hey Bela! How are you today?"

Bela looked at Leighton confused but played along. "I'm...fine. Leighton, are you okay? You never ask about my day." The blonde smiled at her. "What are you talking about? I always ask about your day. I had a question."

Bela laughed, "There it is." Leighton rolled her eyes. "That girl you were talking to, who was she?"

Bela smirked. "That's Y/N. I'm trying to get her to join my comedy club. Girl is hilarious." Leighton nodded. "Yeah. Could you introduce me?"

Bela smiled. "Ooh does someone have a crush?" Leighton blushed hard. "Bela! Just because I'm a lesbian doesn't mean I have a crush on every girl!." Bela smirked again. "Yeah, yeah. I'll introduce you."

The next day, Leighton was walking across the campus courtyard when her name was yelled. She turned to see Bela and Y/N walking towards her. She instantly got nervous as the duo approached her. She straightened herself up and smiled at the two.

"Hey Bela!" The duo reached her as Bela held out an arm. "Y/N, this is Leighton. Leighton, this is Y/N, the newest member of my comedy club!" Y/N stuck her hand out for Leighton to shake. The blonde shook it, thinking about how soft her hands were before snapping back.

"Congrats! Bela was telling me how funny you are!" Y/N blushed. "Thank you! It's so nice to finally meet you! Bela has told me a lot about you, though she didn't mention how pretty you are."

Leighton's jaw dropped. A blush took over her features as she stuttered on her words. Y/N smirked and looked at Bela. "I'll see you later okay? Bye guys!" She walked off as Bela stared at Leighton shocked.

"Leighton. Are you blushing?" Leighton shook herself off and glared at Bela. "I am not!" She stomped off as Bela smirked. She pulled her phone out and texted Whitney and Kimberly.

"Leighton needs an intervention."

Leighton didn't know what to expect when she got back to her dorm, but it wasn't her roommates staring at her. It scared the shit out of her. "What the hell are you guys doing?" Kimberly gestured to the couch. "Please sit."

Leighton sat and looked at them confused. "What is happening?" Whitney sighed. "Leighton, it's come to our attention that you don't know how to talk to girls. We are here to help you."

Leighton's jaw dropped as she slowly turned to glare at Bela. "You told?!" Bela sighed. "I'm sorry! But you need help. Y/N is so into you!" Leighton glared at Bela. "Do you know if she's even gay?" Bela sat silently for a few seconds. "Uhh...no?"

Leighton pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

Whitney decided to save Bela. "She told us Y/N called you pretty! That's a sign, right?" Leighton directed her glare to Whitney now. "Girls call each other pretty all the time Whitney!"

Kimberly, ever the voice of reason, finally spoke. "Leighton, I think for now, talk to her, get to know her, and then maybe if she's comfortable, she'll tell you. But don't just outright ask her. So that way, if she isn't, you can remain friends."

The room was silent for a moment before Whitney and Bela voiced their disagreement of the plan and began to bicker about how Leighton should handle it.

Leighton was stuck on Kimberly's words. "Talk to her." "Get to know her"

That's what Leighton was going to do.

She spotted Y/N the next day walking out of the library and quickened her pace to catch up. "Y/N!" The girl turned and saw Leighton. A bright smile came across her face as she waved. "Hi Leighton! How are you?" Leighton fell into step with Y/N. "I'm good! I actually wanted to ask you something."

Y/N nodded. "Ask away." Leighton took a deep breath and asked the question. "Do you maybe wanna hang out, later? We can study together in the library. If you want!" Y/N blushed and nodded. "Yeah, sure! Can I get your number?"

Leighton felt her heart rate increase. She handed her phone over to Y/N, who put her number in quickly before handing it back. "Text me when you wanna meet up later." Leighton nodded before the girl smiled at the blonde and walked off.

Leighton fought the urge to do a happy dance.

Step one, done.

After a few weeks of hanging out with Y/N, Leighton discovered she was down badly for this girl. The more they hung out, the more Leighon's crush grew. Her roommates tried to hype her up to ask the girl out, but she didn't want to embarrass herself.

It all came to a head one day at lunch, the day that the roommates deemed, "their baby gay grew up".

Leighton was sitting at the table with her roommates eating lunch when Y/N approached. "Hey guys!" The girls greeted Y/N, not so subtly looking at Leighton, who blushed.

"Hi Leighton." The blonde smiled and quietly said hi back. Y/N cleared her throat. "If you weren't doing anything tonight, would you maybe wanna go to dinner and a movie tonight? I know this really good burger place a few miles from school."

Leighton blushed. Her brain was unable to function and she stuttered on her words once again.

Kimberly answered for her. "She would love to! She doesn't have any plans tonight!" Y/N smiled and looked at the girl. "Great! I'll pick you up at say 6:30? Dress casual." Leighton nodded as the girl walked off.

Her roommates squealed as the girl blushed harder. "We told you she was gay! You got a date!" Leighton smiled at how happy her girls were for her, joining in on the squealing, not noticing Y/N watching with a wide grin.

When Leighton came home later that night, hearts in her eyes and swollen lips, the roommates squealed again, sitting her down and making her give them the details.

Their baby gay really had grown up.

[perseidlion]

The Interview With the Vampire TV show is a perfect example of how adaptations do not have to follow the source material closely to be an excellent adaptation.

(This is a spoiler-free commentary, but it does discuss the dynamics of the characters in general.)

I read the books back in the day, and of course, saw the original movie. Despite a laundry list of big changes, the series still feels extremely true to the books because it captures the spirit. It gets the characters and their fucked-up dynamics right. It doesn't shy away from them being melodramatic monsters. It keeps to the rules established in the source material. The show also makes sure to preserve key moments and key scenes, but always with a twist.

Since they did that, they were free to shift things in time, amp up and adapt certain dynamics, and change the race of characters in a way that deepens the story and complicates already extremely complicated power dynamics.

The original movie stuck more closely to the era and the appearance of the characters as described by Anne Rice, but I don't think the story loses anything by changing those two elements. In fact, it gives it modern relevance and room for political and social commentary.

I have never ascribed to the idea that an adaptation has to be slavishly accurate to the source material to be a good adaptation. It just has to be smart enough to identify what to keep and what can change. An adaptation adapts. Honestly, I find it boring when I see exactly what was in a book up on screen with no surprises. Where's the fun in that?

The difference between a good adaptation and a bad one is not how accurate it is to the source material, but how well the adaptation respects what made the story compelling to begin with.

What's important here?

Lestat is dramatic and powerful and a monster who is deeply charismatic, but also manipulative.

Louis is overdramatic and self-hating, but oddly drawn to Lestat.

Claudia is fierce, but bitter about her eternal childhood.

Their relationship is deeply toxic but with true affection. They are monsters, but monsters capable of intense love and devotion - to the point where it has the power to destroy them.

THAT is at the core of this story. THAT is what they keep intact. This frees up all sorts of avenues for play around a few key plot beats.

This room for play also gives opportunities to expand on thinner characters or rewrite them entirely. It's been a long time since I read the books, but I don't recall Daniel standing out as more than a framing device, especially in earlier books. But in the show, he's one of the best parts. Not only does he take a much more active role in the story, he delivers some of the most hilarious and cutting lines of the entire series. If the show had stuck closely to the source material, we wouldn't have this Daniel.

It was also smart of them to make Claudia a few years older. The eternal child element is preserved, but the layer of arrested teenaged hormones and womanhood that will never blossom adds an extra layer of angst and sadness. She is stuck forever in a state of rebellion, never allowed to settle and come into her own.

Having her be a young Black woman also deepens her attachment to Louis, visually, socially and symbolically. They are different from Lestat and they understand each other in a way he never can. She's still very much the Claudia from the book but with layers added to deepen her character and add new, fresh dynamics and complications.

It's also delightful to see the show take the homoeroticism that was subtextual in the early books with Louis and Lestat (and in the original film) and making it unapologetically text. Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles have always been incredibly queer and subversive, but it's amazing to see that side of it fully embraced and stated plainly with no ambiguity or qualifiers or hints. It's queer and that queerness is woven into the fabric of the entire narrative. Louis and Lestat are the toxic beating heart of the Vampire Chronicles.

It's also important because we need messy, dark, fucked-up queer narratives. Sweet, coming-of-age stories and romances are of course, important - especially for younger queer people. But us older queer folk not only want to see ourselves in multiple genres, we want permission to see imperfect, messy, and yes, even evil characters. It's a way of reclaiming the monstrous queer that was villainized for so long and making it our own. We want to find something beautiful in the dark.

If we all thought about it, we could probably think of dozens of examples where a show or movie went far off-script from the source material and was still an excellent adaptation.

Interview With the Vampire is just the most recent and one of the best examples of a stellar adaptation that respects the source material but also builds and expands on it.

I look forward to seeing how they surprise me next season.

[bluestarjay]

I don't like kiyoyachi, mainly bc the age/maturity difference, but I love the thought of yachi totally having a crush on kiyoko. Like, having a crush on an upperclassmen is sooo real, I've definitely had my fair share yk, but I think it definitely would've been an eye-opening experience for yachi.

I think it would've been a bit like the movie, But I'm a Cheerleader, in the sense that yachi had never noticed that she thought about girls differently than her friends did, and that choosing guys to have a crush on was NOT normal. She was definitely in denial. "Oh no, I'm not a lesbian, I just haven't met the right guy yet!" And thinking about what other girls were wearing, "Wow, she looks so good in that top!! She's so beautiful!! 😖😖" Like, mhm, that's it!! You just haven't met the right guy yet,, totally!! And then meeting kiyoko and totally gay panicking.

When she starts to hang out with the first years a little more, yamaguchi asks her when she realized she was a lesbian, and yachi is just, ???? Bc she thinks she's straight. And then Yama apologizes profusely for assuming, he just noticed her behavior towards kiyoko and assumed she had a crush on her. " Well, she's incredibly beautiful, I mean, like, yeah, I get really nervous and sweaty, and all that when I'm around her, but I get like that with everyone! It's just an anxiety thing. She's just older than me, and wayyy more beautiful and talented too, oh and wayyy smarter!! Tanaka and Nishinoya are right, Kiyoko really is like a goddess!!" And she just kinda rants about kiyoko whereas everybody is just staring like ...😯😯 bc they can tell she's deep in denial,,

kageyama, as blunt as ever, goes, "Well, it sounds like you're a lesbian. That sounds like a crush. I've only known you for like a month, and even I can tell you're in love with her." And Yama, "yeah,,, I mean, there's nothing wrong with being a lesbian!!! I mean, we're all queer here, too!! Tsukki and kageyama are gay, and hinata is bisexual, I think, and idrk what I am,, but I like guys!!"

But plot twist!! Kageyama is also deep in denial!!

"What?? Well, yeah, there's nothing wrong with yachi being a lesbian or with you guys being gay or whatever, but I'm not,,, I'm not gay??? Where'd you get that from???" And yachi just kinda stares at her food, connecting the dots that she is, in fact, a lesbian, and Tsukishima and hinata are holding back laughter before they start cackling, bc kageyama?? Straight??? And yamaguchi starts panicking for assuming again.

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Hi! Can I request an Alicent's innocent daughter who pregnant dark!Daemon's child? I'm really curious about how the relationship between Daemon X Reader in this story will develop! Maybe reader was on the way to tell Dae she was pregnant again only to hear a conversation that Daemon was just using her (he really isn’t but Rhaenyra making sure she hears) she leaves and takes her son, and Daemon realises who he really loves and switches to the Greens! Plot twist, a Happy Ending please filled with much SMUT and Otto dies and a little flirt scene with Aegon or Aemond to make Dae jealous hehe.

A/N: I hope you like it! Maybe I went a little overboard with this and the character was not as innocent.

pairing: dark!Daemon Targaryen x niece!Reader

summary: Alicent's innocent daughter who is pregnant with dark!Daemon's child? I'm really curious about how the relationship between Daemon X Reader in this story will develop! Maybe reader was on the way to tell Dae she was pregnant again only to hear a conversation that Daemon was just using her (he really isn’t but Rhaenyra made sure she heard) she leaves and takes her son with her, and Daemon realises who he really loves and switches to the Greens' side! Plot twist, a Happy Ending please filled with much SMUT and Otto dies and a little flirting scene with Aegon or Aemond to make Daemon jealous

Word count: 8,5K

Warnings: Smut, Angst, spanking, fingering, P in V, pussy eating, spit play, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, orgasm control, cum play, jealousy

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

You could not believe, you pregnant again, you were happy of course. The moment the maesters announced you were healthy again after the birth of your son, Vaenys, Daemon and you coupled like a bunch of rabbits so it was no surprise really, it was a matter of time.

Your father married you to your uncle after you turned ten and six name days old. You were not his heir nor were you even the second born so he married you to your uncle. You innocently agreed and was overjoyed by the match, at least he was not some fat old lord who could barely move a hand. Your mother was against it deeming the relationship queer however your father and insisted. Daemon seemed content enough with this marriage so hearing this conversation now made you feel confused at first.

"I do not understand why you still humour this marriage" Rhaenyra's voice was hushed not wanting anyone to hear but she was doing a terrible job at being discreet.

"She is fun to indulge into" You peeked into the room through the small between the door and doorframe. Daemon was sat beside the fireplace with a cup of wine in his hand and Rhaenyra stood beside his chair.

"My little half sister is no fun. She is just a dumb little girl who follows you around like some dragonling, she has not even ridden her dragon in over a year" She snickered. You had not been able to ride your dragon because you were very week during your pregnancy and then later on Daemon left you too sore or exhausted to ride.

"She is a cute little thing" Thing? Is that what you were in his eyes? A thing to toy with and fill with heirs until he got his fill? You turned around and left not finding the courage to face the both of them. Tears streamed down your face freely and you had no control over them.

You made it to your room in record time finding it empty, your son was down for a nap and your handmaidens were probably preparing for the feast tonight. A feast in Aegon's nameday honour, another one for you to watch him embarrass himself in. Your fingers shook as they quickly undid the laces. You felt breathless, no matter how many deep breaths you took you still felt like your lungs were closing up and unable to store any of the air coming inside.

You pulled the dress off followed by the corset and your linen leaving you completely naked in the middle of your room. You stumbled over to the washroom attached to your room and over to the bucket of cold water. You splashed your face with the water intended for other reasons. The water on your heated face felt refreshing but not enough. You sobbed harder as you slid down feeling like an idiot for falling for your uncle's games. Of course he only cared for the throne and would throw himself at Rhaenyra the second she gave him an opening, the throne was what he wanted and he won't be getting it with you. You were the fourth born child of King Viserys and third born of your mother.

You pulled your knees up to your chest wanting to sink into the floor and never emerge ever again. Your poor boy would grow up in a lie that his father cared but he never did. All those nights Daemon sung lullabies for him to sleep were for show only, to get closer to you and manipulate you into obedience so he can do anything he wanted without you noticing.

After what felt like hours your eyes dried of any tears having none anymore to shed. You bathed with the help of your handmaidens who shut their mouthes after you snapped at them to cease their questions about your wellbeing. You knew that they meant well but you did not wish to talk about the incident. You put on a dress you have never once touched in your wardrobe before, a dress your mother gifted you many moons back, a green dress. The dress covered your shoulder but dipped down into a deep V neck showing the insides of your breasts tucked closer to one another with a special corset from Dorne that pushed them inwards. The slit stopped just about your belly button, something you were shocked your mother sent for you to wear considering how religious she was. The sleeves reached your elbows before a thin fabric continued from there in a lighter shade of green in bell sleeves, the front reached your wrists but the back of it resumed to touch the floor. The dress kissed the floor as you walked even with your golden heels on. The back of the dress was only a little low showing your shoulder blades but not more. Over the right breast there was a golden dragon embroidered there still showing what house you belonged into. You placed two emerald earrings in your ears with a matching emerald necklace to shine under the candlelight.

Your sworn guard ser Lormer was stunned to speechlessness and remained so until you reached the great hall where the feats was being held The guard announced your arrival upon seeing you. A hush fell around the room as you stepped down the steps with your head held high. Your mother's face brightened at the sight of your choice of dress and a smirk grew on your grandsire. Otto's face. Daemon's face showed only shock and horror at the colour you chose.

"The beckon on hightower, do you know what colour it glows when the Hightowers call their banners?" You heard someone whisper the question somewhere in the room but it was heard perfectly fine in the silence.

"What father?" A younger voice asked. Your eyes watched your father's expression, he seemed to have been under a spell or maybe remembering a memory?

"Green" Was the answer. You paused in front of your father on the other side of the table. He looked up at you watching you as your bowed down in a graceful curtsy.

"Your grace" You greeted rising back up. You moved to round the table and paused behind your grandsire leaning down to place a kiss on his bearded cheek making his smirk widen.

"Good girl" he praised. You smiled and moved to take your seat on Daemon's left with Rhaenyra on his right.

"What in the seven hells are you wearing?" He leaned over to hiss, glaring at you. You leaned your elbow lazily on the armrest as music filled the hall again yet there were still stares on you.

"A dress, husband" You replied. Daemon's hands curled into fists in his lap. A smirk grew on your face seeing that you had irritated him.

"Did you not have any other one? A black or red one perhaps?" He asked infuriated with you. You turned to watch as some couples moved to the dance floor to some upbeat song before turning back to Daemon only then realising that he has never asked you to dance or let you dance with someone else, an activity you enjoyed before marriage, an activity you participated in at your wedding only once and never again.

"I am afraid they all are being either washed or thrown away" You responded apathetically with a bored smirk on your lips still. You could hear even from the other side of the table as Aegon demanded for some more wine. Besides you both new that was not true, you had way too many for all of them to be washed at the same time.

"Thrown away?" He was surprised now. Why would you throw away the clothes he brought for you, after you married he brought you a hole wardrobe and threw away your old one and made sure your wardrobe was of the newest fashions from all around Westeros.

"Yes they found mold on them and their foul smell filled the room" You hissed resentful and now Daemon knew your words had a double meaning. You pushed your chair back using his moment of surprise to move away from him. Rhaenyra watched in shock as you left Daemon behind, usually you stuck by his side even when he got up to talk with some lord. The both of them watched you make your way the Greens' side and to your brother Aemond specifically.

"Care for a dance brother?" You held your palm open for Aemond to take. Aemond was surprised seeing as you had not danced with him since before your marriage. He accepted the offer happily and guided you down the steps to the dance floor. Aemond was only one year younger than you so you two used to be the closest between your siblings.

"What caused such a change, dear sister?" Aemond pondered. You smiled gently moving to hold one of his hands in yours and the other around your waist. You placed your other hand on his shoulder and led the beginning of the dance moving with the beat of the music.

"Nothing, I just opened my eyes" Was your reply. Aemond chose not to push for more enjoying this moment in between each other's arms.

He lead in the dance twirling you around along with the other ladies in time. When you paused in front of him with a genuine smile on your face he placed both his hands on your waist and pulled you off your feet watching as you moved your arms above your head expertly before placing you back down on the floor. You two gazed upon each other the entire dance moving and twirling together you with the hobby of dancing and Aemond with the hobby of sword fighting.

"Another, dear sister?" Aemond asked once the dancing ceased and the tone changed.

"Gladly" You moved to his side with a grin. He held out his arm for you to hold as you moved along with the other couples.

Daemon watched from the high table as Aemond moved you, held you and felt your body, your body that belonged to him. He gulped down the cup of wine in front of him as Aemond held you from behind swaying from side to side before moving to twirl you to face him.

Rhaenyra watched Daemon's every facial expression with worry eating at her. What if he was rethinking what he said and promised? What if changes his support? What if he does not marry her the second Laenor was gone from the front? What ifs circled her head making sweat build up up her back.

You laughed when Aemond gave you an extra twirl as the song ended. Aemond's eyes twinkled as he watched you but then something behind your back caught his attention making him stoic again. Your turned to find Aegon standing behind you surprisingly with no wine anywhere near him, for now.

"If I may, brother, I would like to dance with our sister as well" Your older brother held out his hand. Aemond grumbled something under his breath before placing your hand in Aegon's hand and moved back to the table.

"Aegon, it has been a while" This time it was a much slower dance. A very provocative dance, it initiated no physical touch but the partners stood very near to one another, dancing and teasing one another.

"It has, dear sister, Uncle has been hiding you all to himself " Aegon chuckled darkly looking you up and down, eyes pausing on whatever flesh peeked from under your dress.

"Yes it seems so" You moved to walk behind Aegon. You broke one of the rules of this dance and placed a hand on his shoulder leaning closer to whisper in his ear as you other hand run up his side.

"You can have me all you want now" You let your breath hit his ear before pulling away and moving to stand in front of him again. Aegon's hand raised wanting to touch you but paused and moved back down to ghost over your waist. The both of you moved in a circle with not a singular inch touch but you were the closest to each other between all the couples.

"You have grown sister, your mind is no longer as naive" Aegon whispered. You moved closer hiding your actions with your body. You grabbed his hand with both of yours running your thumbs over the sensitive skin on the inside of his wrist feeling his heart race. You looked at him through your lashes with a smirk.

"You mean I know the ways of the body now" You responded. Aegon's eyebrows shot up in surprise. You giggled turning to look at the high table noticing three people watching you, five eyes, Daemon, Rhaenyra and Aemond. Your smirk dropped when you saw the maester move closer to Daemon.

"I have to go, Vaenys is awaiting me" You spoke hurriedly before moving away from Aegon. He did not have time to stop you and watched as you sprinted in the direction of the exit.

"My prince" Daemon snapped from staring at you and Aegon, standing close, touching one another.

"What is it?" Daemon snapped annoyed. He did not even think twice if he were being rude to the older man but turned to glare at him anyways.

"I wished to congratulate you myself, your grace" The old man said. His back was slightly hunched and his bead touched his belly and sweat was evident above his brow.

"Whatever for?" Daemon's eyebrow ticked up in confusion. The older man grumbled a little maybe also annoyed with Daemon.

"Your lady wife's pregnancy" The world stopped around Daemon. You were with child? Why did you not tell him? What has gotten into you today? Daemon's eyes snapped back to the dance floor but you were already gone and Aegon was now entertaining some other lady. He stood up so fast he almost fell from the blood rush. His eyes filtered through the crowd trying to find your green dress, your white-blonde hair but you were nowhere to be found.

You however were hurrying down the corridors now with a cloak over your shoulders and your sleeping son of one bundled up in your arms. Daemon cannot now of this new child. He will surely kill you when it is born and marry Rhaenyra now that he had his heir and his spare. Your handmaidens did not question you seeing the maddened look in your eyes and merely watched you bundle your son and leave with a sprint.

You were thankful to find that the Dragon keepers were also celebrating somewhere leaving the dragons to their own. Yours was a light blue one laying closest to the exist of the dragonpit. He was a newly hatched dragon when you were born that you bonded with during a visit with your father to dragonpit at your second nameday and your egg was forgotten since then.

Your dragon raised his head feeling your presence and the urgency in your steps. He kept his body low allowing your to climb and chain yourself and Vaenys tightly. With one word your dragon clambered out of the pit and took to the skies with ease. You felt a rush of relief fill your body. You had the urge to open your arms and feel the wind but you would never endanger your son.

Flying above both land and water it reminded you of the days you used to fly alongside Aegon and Helaena as children until Aemond claimed Vaghar and joined you three. How happy those times were, how happy you were. You would not trade Vaenys or your other child for the world but maybe you would trade the circumstances.

Your peace did not last long when you heard a second pair of wings beating against the wind behind you. You turned your head and looked over your shoulder to find the unmistakable red of Caraxes. You turned back around tightening your grip around your son.

Your dragon sensed the danger swerved down to land on a nearby island not wanting to risk you or your children. He has always been protective of your child and now he probably also sensed your pregnancy and wished not for harm to befall you. But this ruined your plan of traveling to the free cities and hiding your children there. Your dragon laid down on the sand watching as Caraxes landed not far away from the three of you. You feared what was to come, what Daemon's reaction would be. Speaking of Daemon he looked furious as he walked closer to you and Vaenys.

"Where do you think you're going? And you're taking our son too" Daemon hissed furiously. You took a step back and away from him but he followed you.

"I was merely flying around to clear my mind" You lied. Daemon laughed almost darkly. His eyes looked crazed and the way he flexed his fingers by his sides made you feel an unknown kind of fear bubble inside of you.

"Liar, you are a terrible liar" Daemon accused. He stepped closer until you were almost touching with only Vaenys in the pace between you two.

"You intended to take my son and run away" His hand shot up to grab a handful of your hair pulling your head closer to him. You whimpered in pain feeling some of your hair being ripped out.

"I heard you, you have no need of a dumb little girl like me" You cried. Tears welled up in your eyes again at the reminder of the words. Daemon closed his eyes as if he was trying to compose himself.

"Those were not my words" He reminded. You shifted the sleeping child to one arm and used the other to push his hand off your head.

"No because you think I am fun to indulge into" You yelled. Your child whined annoyed at being disturbed. You shushed him urging him to go back to sleep, rubbing up and down his back.

"Is that a bad thing?" Daemon smirked shrugging his shoulders. You wanted to punch him, hit him and show him how hurt you were.

"You do not love me, Daemon, you seek fun with me. You love Rhaenyra" You whimpered. You turned your back to him making your way back over to your dragon. He watched you with his huge eyes filled with worry for you.

"You stupid girl" Daemon was quick to catch up with you and moved to stand in front of you. You paused your walking and looked up at him.

"Just because I seek fun with you does not mean I do not love you" Daemon pointed out. One of his hands moved to grab your chin gently.

"You love her more and you will always choose her over us" You shook your head. You tried pulling away from Daemon but he was quick to wrap an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him with only Vaenys in between you two keeping just a breath of space.

"I would never, you three are now my whole entire world, you do not understand how much you all mean to me" Daemon leaned his forehead to rest on yours. Vaenys squirmed in your arms a little but did not complain.

"I heard-" You began but he cut you off with a kiss to the lips. You pulled away to look him in the eyes, trying to study him, see if he was lying.

"You heard lies so come back with me, sweet wife" He Moved to place a hand on Vaenys' head pocking out of the blanket a little. The boy let out a sigh of content snuggling deeper into your aching arms.

"Come home, our home" Daemon moved to pull your son out of your arms. You breathed out a sigh letting him take Vaenys from your arms. Daemon hugged the sleeping boy close to his chest placing several kisses to his head.

"You swear you do not love Rhaenyra" You spoke before he could walk over to Caraxes. Daemon turned around to face you again growing annoyed with you and your stubborn head.

"I love only you" He responded. You nodded your head still not entirely believing him but followed him nonetheless. You climbed atop your dragon and rode behind Daemon silently and back to the Red Keep.

You went to your chambers while Daemon went to return Vaenys to the comfort of his own bed in his room. You undid the cloak once you were in your room which was dimly lit. You undid your hair leaving it cascade down your back. Daemon walked in as you took off your jewelry, first the earrings followed by the necklace. He walked over to you and wrapped his arms around you from behind.

"Green is not your colour" He whispered in your ear. You shivered from the closeness of your bodies. His hands found home on your hips massaging the skin there slowly rising up to your waist before moving to rest atop your stomach.

"It does not suit my child" He placed a kiss below your ear. His hands pushed slightly in onto your stomach to indicate that he now knew of the child growing in your womb. Your eyes dropped from watching him through the reflection of the mirror to look down on the clutter laying atop the vanity table.

"It is my mother's house colours" You reminded him. Daemon did not respond too busy kissing up and down your neck. One of his hands rose up to your shoulder pushing down the fabric to reveal the skin below. His lips followed the path he drew with his fingers.

"Daemon" You did not know if you were warning him to stop or resume. Daemon pulled away to look at you in the mirror, violet eyes clashing with lavender eyes.

"You do not get to speak after what you did" Daemon hissed. His hands moved to your waist turning you around to face him.

"I should punish you for running away" He smirked almost evilly. Your heart dropped with fear but you felt excitement course along with your blood in your body.

"I could not bare hearing you almost confess your love for my sister and sit about" You pushed him back. Daemon did not even more an inch but his eyes showed his surprise that you found the courage to respond in his face.

"It seems I have let you free to much, wife" Daemon used both of his hands to rip the dress clean off of your body. You gasped in shock as the cold air hit your bare skin. Daemon was even more surprise to find you not wearing any other layer except a weird looking corset he easily removed.

"You will receive your punishment with pride and thank me for it" Daemon pulled you by your forearm to the nearest chair by the fireplace. He sat down and patted his lap.

"Daemon, no" You whimpered shaking your head, you regretted ever rebelling against him if he were to hurt you. Daemon ignored you, he surged forward wrapping his arm around your waist forcing you to lay down on his waist.

"Daemon, no, please" You tried pushing yourself up but he kept his hand on your back forcing you down. His other hand rubbed on the skin of your plump behind.

"Count or it will get worse" He warned. You felt your face warm up at the wetness that started to coat your lower lips. Daemon leaned closer to you grabbing at the flesh of your behind earning a small moan from your lips.

"Understood?"

"Yes, husband" You braced yourself on his leg awaiting the harsh slap. This was not the first time he had spanked you before but this still felt different than before.

"Good wife" You yelped when his hand came down on your behind. You cried a 'one' not wanting to anger him. Daemon placed his hand over the mark that will surely form there and rubbed it gently to sooth the pain away.

"I wonder how many more can you take" He voiced his thoughts noticing you beginning to squirm. His hand came back down on your behind harsher that earlier. The 'two' that you squeaked almost sound like a mouse screaming for it's life. Daemon chuckled darkly leaning down to place a kiss on top of the reddening flesh.

"It hurts" You complained wiggling your hips. Daemon watched as a small trickle of arousal ran down your thigh and your exposed cunt glistened in the candlelight.

"But you enjoy it" He teased. His hand trailed down running over your soaked slit. He breathy moan escaped your lips and your hips squirmed harder wanting even more friction. Your whole body was on fire with excitement and fear at the same time.

"Daemon please" You whimpered, burying your face in his thigh. Daemon delivered another slap to your bottom earning a quite scream from you. You still did not dare stop counting and whispered a 'three' between sobs. This pain was so pleasurable you needed and wanted more. Daemon could see the way your cunt clenched around nothing with the third spank so he delivered another one.

"Fuck, Daemon, four" You wiggled your hips desperately. You felt like you were going to cum any second now. You hated how easily your body submitted to him, how much control he had over you.

"Good girl, one more but do not dare cum" He placed a kiss between your shoulder blades, hand soothing over the sore skin, you relaxed in his hold at his affectionate touches that when he slapped you one last time it came a shock to you.

"Shit, five" You wiggled trying to get out of his hold. Daemon guided you to your knees in front of him. He shifted in his seat proudly showing off the bulge in his pants that grew tighter and tighter by the minute.

"My naive wife, running away like a coward" Daemon grabbed your chin and pulled you head up so you would look him in the eyes. His heart picked up speed at the sight of your teary eyes.

"Daemon I need release" You begged. Daemon noticed the way you were squirming in your place and realised you were rubbing your aching cunt against your legs under you from where you kneeled.

"Naughty wives do not get to cum" His hand wrapped around you bicep pulling you up to stand in front of him. He also stood up from the chair and moved you to sit on it instead.

"What are you going to do?" Your wide eyes watched as he unbuttoned his tonic and took it off. Your body trembled with excitement with the more clothes he shed. Your hands moved on their own accord as they raised to touch his bare skin when there was no more clothes left on his body. Your fingers run up his thigh to his hipbone.

"Like what you see, wife?" Daemon questioned snapping you back to reality. You withdrew your hand from touching him and looked up at him with wanting eyes. He slowly came down in front of you until he was on his knees. His hands laid on your thighs rubbing affectionate circles there.

"Did you truly think I would chose Rhaenyra over you?" He asked, a flash of anger passed by his eyes. Your own eyes trailed down look at his hands atop your flesh feeling tears build up in them. One of his hands raised to force your head up so you would look up at him.

"Answer me" He demanded. His hands trailed down to your knees pushing them apart as much as possible. Your hips wiggled unconsciously reaching for the edge.

"You love her more" You whispered. He pulled at your hips so your were as far away from sitting but more like laying down on the chair. The movement hurt your behind but you did not dare complain. He leaned closer to your mount but instead turned his head to your thigh instead leaving a trail of kisses on it.

"I love you most" He replied. His tongue licked a trail up your thigh to the side of your cunt. You gasped when he blew a little on the soaked skin. One of your hands snapped to grab at his hair pushing him closer to your pussy.

"Please, Daemon" You begged thrusting your hips up in the air seeking friction. Daemon showed you mercy wrapping his lips around your swollen clit giving it a gentle suck. His hands trailed down to your calfs giving them a gentle squeeze.

"Ooh yes" You moaned. His tongue toyed with your clit before he buried his face deeper into you and let his tongue slid inside of your clenching hole. Your breath was stolen from your legs as he shook his head from side to side letting out vulgar sounds, devouring you as if you were his last meal.

"Daemon" Your voice was so weak you did not know if he heard you. Your stomach was tightening wanting release. Your fingers dug into his head attempting to push him closer which was impossible.

"Do not cum" He ordered from below, his voice was muffled by your cunt but you understood him perfectly. The vibrations his voice sent through your pussy did not help your situation.

"I can't" Now you were trying to wiggle away so you would not have to disobey his ordered. Your hand tried pushing him away but he was quick to grab your wrist and move it away from his head and trap it on the armrest of the chair with his serving as a lock around it.

"I'm going to cum" You cried thrashing around even harder. Daemon used his other hand to push your hips down and steady the rocking chair so you would not tip it over. His tongue resumed to torture your clit and hole that was crying for release.

"Please, I'm gonna cum" Now you were begging to cum, you did not care of you disobeyed. The second you made up your mind to defy him and cum he pulled away with your wetness coating his lips and chin. You cried at the loss legs curling to close protectively in front of your weeping cunt. Your free hand slapped over your lips to muffle the cries. Tears leaked out of your eyes, despair filling your body.

"Naughty wives do not get to cum" Daemon repeated his words from earlier. He stood on his feet with his chest puffed out proudly. He picked you up from the chair as if you weight nothing and moved over to your bed laying you down gently, you were still pregnant with his child.

"Please Daemon, I need to cum" You begged clinging to him. He shushed you holding you close to his chest. You let him run his hand down your spine and over your bruised behind and over your thigh pulling it up to wrap around his waist while you both laid on your sides facing each other.

"You will get to cum on one condition" He promised against your hair. You gulped fearing whatever he wished of you. Your mind went blank when you felt his tip rubbing up and down your slit gathering your arousal but did not push inside, it remained as the weapon Daemon used to tease you, mould you to his will.

"What is it?" You whimpered hugging him closer to your body wanting, no needing an anchor to remain sane. You never really fared well with teasing.

"Swear you will never run away again" He leaned his head down to place a kiss on your cheek. His lips moved to your eyelashes then down to your nose. He avoided your lips on purpose awaiting to hear you swear yourself and your children to him forever.

"Promise me your husband, stay by my side and I will do as you want, as you wish" He bit at a piece of skin below your ear. He slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside but no more. You squirmed with a whine needing more than just his mushroomed tip inside of you.

"I- I need you to promise me something in return" You whispered in his ear. Daemon smirked loving this new side of you, the side that negotiated with him.

"What is it, dear wife" He pulled the tip of his cock out of you teasing your clit with it instead. Your hips squirmed with neediness, missing this tiny piece of friction it got from his tip inside of your tight walls.

"Never support Rhaenyra, never even talk with her" You pulled back from his ear to look at him. His eyes darkened and his jaw tensed a little. This time he shoved his cock inside of you fully almost as punishment. Your lips parted into an O shape with a silent scream of pain and shock. He watched your chest freeze unable to take air in for a hot minute.

"Why would I do that?" He smirked rocking his hips back and forth. His hand on your thigh, that was thrown over his hip, tightened to compose himself. You wrapped around his cock so good, if the seven hells felt anything like your cunt then he'd happily remain there.

"Because you love me, oh- or were you oh- lying to me?" You finally composed yourself. Moans slipped passed your lips with each movement of his cock. Your nails dug deep into his shoulders drawing blood be he did not care at all.

"Do not ever question my love for you" His his snapped roughly against yours. You cried out breaking eye contact to throw your head back against the pillows in ecstasy. His cock felt amazing inside of you as it always did.

"Then p-promise me that" You panted. Your hands moved to pull him on top of you instead. Daemon happily complied moving to pull your other leg up to wrap around his waist. His hips were snapping furiously against yours now. Sweat was build up above brow and his hair fell over his shoulders. Your fingers entangled into the hair that matched your own in colour.

"I fucking promise" He growled pushing himself up to look you in the eyes, giving you no room to doubt him.

"I swear to love and fuck only you and your cunt" His eyes trailed down watching how his cock slipped in and out of you. The way your arousal coated his cock letting it slid in and out easily and with no discomfort for either of you and how your walls swallowed him in clenching around him seeking both your and his peek.

"Your turn" He reminded. You surprised him when you pushed him back with both your hands and legs. He laid for a second beside you his mind not registering what has happened. By the time he focused again you were sinking down on his length hips already rolling back and forth, side to side and up and down, taking him from all angels.

"I swear to be only yours" You leaned down to press your lips against his, this started out as a punishment but now you had him under you, at your mercy. Your hips jolted with each movement needing to find release. Daemon held your hips trying to assist you from below by snapping his hips up to meet your thrusts.

"I'm going to cum" You warned. Daemon moaned feeling your walls clamp down on him. He did not even dare tell you not to when he saw the fierce look in your eyes and instead moved his gaze to your bouncing tits. He took one of them in his mouth sucking on it to hide his own sounds. Your hand moved to play with your other nipple tweaking it between your thumb and forefinger imagining it producing milk soon for your unborn child which proved to be your undoing making your release crash down on you.

"Fuck! Daemon" Your cried, hips now moving on their own accord to ride out your orgasm. Daemon used this moment of unawareness to flip you back around.

"Yes darling?" he smirked down at you. His hips jackhammered inside of you with no mercy. Your eyes opened to look at him, you looked like you were under a spell. His eyes trailed down to your mouth, lips open letting moans and whines of pleasure slip through. Your cheeks were flushed red along with your ears. The only sound other than your sounds of pleasure and his groans was the sound of skin slapping and the wetness of your cunt.

His eyes trailed to your breasts, moving with the rhythm of his thrusts inside of you, remembering the green dress that covered only a small portion of them at the beginning of the evening making his blood boil with anger. You were a Targaryen by both birth and marriage.

"You shall wear red and black from now on" He informed, not asked, not ordered or demanded but informed. You shook your head from side to side. Your insides were twitching with a second orgasm approaching you.

"You shall wear green" You shot back. Daemon's hand that was not holding his weight up from crushing you, snapped to wrap around you throat threateningly. You sobbed from the intensity of the pleasure, you never thought threatening your life would be so pleasurable.

"Red and black" He hissed. His stomaching tightened with pleasure, he was so close. He knew you were already pregnant but he shall fuck you full of another child even when you were so full, yes it did not work this way but he will make it work, he will make it work because he was a god, he rode two dragons, Caraxes and you.

"Green" You cried out head falling back as your climax washed over you, your legs shook furiously and you lost all feeling in your toes. Daemon ignored the wetness that coated his length and thighs, this was not the first time he managed to make you squirt. Your hand snapped up to wrap around his neck with the same threat of choking him to death. That was his undoing, he came with a loud groan, he has never came so hard before in his life but his hips did not relent and kept rutting inside of you.

"Filling me up so well my husband" You rolled your hips up teasingly as his thrusts stopped. Daemon whimpered at the friction and scrambled to pull out his cock.

"You little whore" He moved to lay beside you facing you. He placed a hand over your belly feeling it's flatness that will soon go away. He smirked evilly knowing that you grew more sensitive while pregnant and especially now that he drew two orgasms from you. His hand crawled down to grab at your mound.

"Daemon" You mewled legs snapping close to stop his movement. He did not listen and shoved two fingers inside of your cunt. He grinded his palm against your overstimulated clit.

"Gotta make sure my cum stays inside" He whispered in your ear. Your body gave in to his request and your legs fell open giving him the space to move his hand. He moved the two fingers inside of you gently at first before picking up pace into a punishing pace. The sounds your wetness created filled the room and usually you would be embarrassed but the pleasure of his fingers inside of you and his palm rubbing your clit was too overwhelming.

Your judgment was clouded but you refused to show it. Your hips rose to grind against his hand desperate for release, a release you know will be a little painful and you would grow to regret the next morrow but now you gave no fucks.

"Fuck me" You cried holding on to his arm for support. Daemon leaned down to capture your bouncing teats with his mouth. He bit down on the flesh before soothing it out with his tongue. The climax that washed over you was surprising to you as well from how fast it came, you did not even have time to warn Daemon.

"Good girl" He praised pulling his fingers out of your cunt. He held them close to your lips and you opened them willingly and let him shove his finger in, you let him shove them in so much you felt them in your throat gagging. You closed your lips around his digits and sucked as if they were his cock. He pulled them out slowly letting you clean them. Your tongue swirled gathering whatever you could find loving the taste of your own release.

"Very good girl, keep your mouth open" He leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead. You nibbled on his fingers before opening your mouth. He pulled away to glare at you but you only looked at him innocently sticking your tongue out wiggling it from side to side. Daemon gathered whatever saliva he had in his mouth and spat it inside of your mouth, some of it even going back to your throat.

"Swallow, wife" he demanded. You pulled your tongue back inside and swallowed before sticking your tongue out to him to show him that it was all gone.

"Good now do the same down here" He took your hand and moved it to his cock that was hard again. The sight of you cumming on his fingers ignited the fire of arousal inside of him again. You shimmed down on the bed until you were between his parted legs. He watched you as you pushed his hand away and took control over the action.

Your smaller hands wrapped around his shaft pulling the skin up and pushing it back down. You stuck you tongue out and leaned down to tease his slit like he did your clit on the chair what felt like hours ago and maybe it was hours ago, you did not know you had not kept track of time, not when his tongue was inside of you, or his fingers or his cock.

"Do not tease" He groaned. His hand moved to pull your hair away from your face and held it behind your head, he did not take control of the movement of your head, instead he merely watched you as you finally took all of him inside of your mouth.

You bobbed your head up and down making sure to swallow whenever he was deep enough inside of your mouth. Small whimpered escaped his mouth, his hips pushing up for more. Your hands moved down to place with his balls. Your eyes watched his face scrunch up with pleasure trying his best to maintain eye contact with you.

"Fuck" His thighs tensed on either side of your head, legs shaking with each suck you gave. One of your hands trailed down prodding at his own hole and ignored his whine pushing a finger inside. Daemon thrusted his hips up pushing his cock as far as possible inside of your mouth at the new friction making your nose bury in the little hair he had above his cock.

You gagged and used your other hand to push his hips down on the mattress again. You pulled away from him with a pop. He whined as your left his cock standing proud and needy leaking precum and his tip red. When you were sure he was going to keep his hips in place you wrapped your fingers around his cock pumping it up and down.

"Good husbands do not attempt to suffocate their wives" You teased. Daemon now used the hand behind your head to push your head down so you would take him in your mouth again. You giggled wrapping your lips around him again and sucked.

"Fuck, cumming" He warned holding your head down. You held your breath already expecting his white seed that shot down your throat. You swallowed it with him still inside of you making him cry at the tightness of your throat and push your head away.

"Naughty wife" He opened his arms. You crawled into them cuddling by his side. The both of you went to sleep covered in cum, sweat and filled with love for one another and had stupid satisfied smiles on your faces.

The next morning you woke up peacefully with Daemon sitting beside you playing with your hair. You had half a mind to fall back to sleep but could not leave Vaenys alone for too long. You turned to lay on your back stretching you arms out feeling numb and sore all over your body, a good kind of soreness.

"Morning, my love" Daemon greeted. There was a weird grin on his face but you just assumed you were imagining things.

"Morning" You sat up with the sheets wrapped around your body. There was a bath awaiting you in the corner and a breakfast on the table.

"I asked them to prepare your bath and breakfast here, I did not know when you will wake" Daemon watched as you got up with the sheets wrapped around your body still. You walked over to the bath dropping your sheet to get in. You sighed content with the warmth leaning back almost as if this was your throne.

"Thank you, dear husband, this gesture is very much appreciated" You smiled warmly at him. Daemon also got up and walked over to you.

"I have some business to attend to, I will be back soon" He leaned down and placed a kiss on your forehead.

"I will await your arrival impatiently" You flirted. He smirked and moved to leave the room, closing the door with a click. You took a deep breath and dunk down in the scented water letting it wash away the sticky sweat and cum. You scrubbed your skin clean and washed your hair thoroughly. Then you lathered your skin with oils and dressed in a blue dress, neither red and black or green.

You hated that you had to break your fast alone but enjoyed the delicious food, everything you liked was on the table. From honey to chocolates and creams. When you were done you decided to go see your son now that you were clean and full. With a sweet hum you walked over to the doors attempting to pull them open only to find them locked. You tried again thinking maybe the door was stuck but to no avail.

"Ser Lormer!" You called your sworn sword. You feared Daemon had done something to him.

"Yes my princess" You sighed in relief at his reply. However the quiver in his voice made you sure something has happened.

"Are you alright?" You asked leaning closer to the door so you would not have to yell.

"Y-yes my princess" He stuttered. Now you were more than sure Daemon had hurt him somehow.

"Do no lie" You growled. Your fingers curled into your palms creating fists out of your hands.

"Prince Daemon cut my finger off Princess as punishment but it is alright I have nine others" Ser Lormer, always the worried sworn sword, never wanting to you to feel any pain even if it was not physical.

"I am so sorry" You felt tears build up in your eyes. Guilt was eating you from the inside out, you were the reason someone was in pain.

"It is alright princess, I am alright" Ser Lormer tried to comfort you. You took a deep breath pushing back the tears.

"Did prince Daemon lock the doors?" You questioned. It did not need a genius to know that but still you needed confirming. Was your sweet Daemon from yesterday just a character your husband played in front of your eyes?

"Yes princess, he said it was for your own safety" Ser Lormer answered. You moved away from the door with a small 'thank you'. You were terrified for yourself and your son. Why won't Daemon let you see him? Why did he not lock you two together? Did he mean to kill you? No, he couldn't or could he?

The sky darkened and you were going out of your mind. Daemon did not even send food for you to eat leaving you famished, worried sick and on the verge of madness. When you finally let your mind wander off to the idea of jumping out of the window to get somewhere other than the room did the door to your chambers open and Daemon strutted in with a tray of food in his hands.

"Oh dear wife forgive me, I was busy and forgot to feed you" Daemon said apologetically. You pushed yourself to stand up from the chair, wincing when you felt just how numb your backside had become from sitting on it for so long and it was already sire from the night before.

"What is going on? Why am I locked here? Why can't I see Vaenys?" You threw one question after the other at him. He moved to place the tray on the table beside the old food from breakfast.

"Some very unpleasant things. For your safety. And whoever said you cannot see our son?" Daemon walked over to you. He placed his hands on your shoulders when he was close enough.

"What happened?" You stood your ground with your question. You fisted his tunic to keep him close to you.

"Otto Hightower has passed" Daemon said plainly. Your knees turned into lead and your body leaned onto his. He held you close letting you slid back down on your chair.

"My grandfather?" You whispered. Your stomach dropped when the news registered in your brain. A hand snapped to your mouth in shock. Your eyes locked with Daemons just as a tear rolled down your cheek. He crouched down in front of you and raised his hand to catch the tear.

"It was peaceful in his sleep" Daemon tried assuring you. Of course that was a lie, he had poisoned him but you needn't know that. You were too innocent for this.

"Oh my poor mother must be divested" You whimpered. You leaned down to rest your forehead on his shoulder. He rubbed up and down your back trying to comfort you.

"Everything will be alright my sweet wife" Daemon whispered. Now Daemon had a new plan, first to show his alliance to the greens, for his pretty and innocent wife's sake and make sure Rhaenyra is out of the way, he cannot have his love running away again or doubting him or his love. He will punish Rhaenyra for choosing a room close to your route and for leaving the door open. He will make sure to rain hell upon her for what she did. At least now he had his lovely wife wrapped in his arms accepting him with no second thought. He will do anything and everything for her.

[tevanbegins]

This is a long rant to shoot down mad BoB theories insisting that Tommy is a villain / secret spy in cahoots with Gerrard / plot device / temporary LI. The show's writers are mature adults who surely wouldn't go so out of the way to villainize a queer character? To the extent that he'd fool all the main characters into thinking he was a good guy and great for Buck for an entire season, and then start revealing his true colors in the next season? To make a beautiful storyline about queer joy blow up into flames with such a major negative plot twist? All so that Eddie can suddenly realise he is gay and he and Buck can get together? I seriously don't think a 60 year old showrunner would allow such childish nonsense to happen on his show.

I'm not saying queer characters can't play dark / negative roles — Eva's character is an example from this very show itself. But the writers always told us that she is a bad influence on Hen's life right from the start, never got us attached to her by depicting her as a great person in the beginning and then revealing later that she is bad. If Tommy was meant to be horrible for Buck, the narrative would clearly tell us that from the start the way they did with Eva and Hen. The writers cannot be so insensitive as to give the LGBTQ+ community such significant mlm representation with Buck and Tommy, first making us fall in love with their romance and then humiliating us (as well as Buck) by completely destroying Tommy's character — all to serve the end purpose of making a fanon ship go canon? That might happen in B*ddie fanfics written by teenagers, but it can't happen on a show being written for a sensible, mature audience by grown-ass career TV writers!!!

B*ddie would have happened a long time ago if the writers wanted to make it canon. They are not going to do it now, definitely not by making Tommy the scapegoat in that awful mess, just so the toxic portion of the fandom can be appeased over the rest of the audiences who appreciate the show for its thoughtful and sensitive storytelling.

Why is maligning Tommy even necessary to make B*ddie canon? Like Eddie and Buck have seen each other dating one woman after another through the seasons but only Tommy being the bad guy will suddenly lead to a feelings realisation arc? Why didn't it happen before, or why couldn't it happen without reintroducing Tommy if B*ddie canon was always the end plan? Probably because the writers aren't interested in going there at all, and Tommy is genuinely being written as a long-term LI for Buck?

Backing this argument is the fact that most of the conversations had by the other characters after Buck's coming out have not been explicitly about him now identifying as bisexual, but more about him being involved with Tommy. If Tommy was being written as a plot device or a short-term LI, I don't think the other characters (including Eddie, mind you) would be hyping him up during these conversations. The writers would have probably framed the conversations on the lines of, "Oh wow Buck you realised you're bisexual? Congratulations!" instead of "OMG you and Tommy? Tell us more / We love him for you and approve of you two together!" They wouldn't take the efforts they've been taking to make Tommy a pivotal subject of these conversations if he was just a plot device as the BoBs believe. And if he was supposed to be a villain, the other characters would have told Buck to find someone better if they thought Tommy's vibes were off. Not all of them can be foolish to not see through Tommy if he was truly as bad as BoBs say he is (especially not Bobby.) Yes, Buck's bisexuality is valid regardless of who he dates or even if he doesn't, but the fact the characters talk so positively about both him + Tommy during these convos clearly implies this is an important love story blended into the coming out arc.

If B*ddie canon was in the works, JLH and Kenny Choi wouldn't have said on their IG lives that it's not going to happen, Ryan Guzman wouldn't be referring to Eddie as heterosexual, etc. So, we cannot let the BoB comments get into our heads because they are not the ones writing the show. I think we can expect a lot better from Tim & Co. than them giving in to the delusional fantasies BoBs want to see being manifested. Wanted to say this piece because I am fed up of seeing the BoB conspiracy theories all over and don't want to give them the power to steal our joy. That's all for now!

___

[archiveofliterature]

i see a lot of criticism about the friendships between the babel characters and how we were told a lot of things about their positive dynamic, yet shown barely any of it (but are instead mostly presented with the negative aspects). i don’t know if other people clocked this but i feel like it was intentional

rf kuang was commenting on friendships made through trauma-bonding: they were doomed from the start

tldr; the characterisation is (one of) the subtly(ies) people were looking for in the colonial theme. they criticise the latter but i love the fact colonialism is more of an upfront theme because lord knows i am tired of it being subtle so people can ignore it

robin says from the very beginning after they formed their little friend group:

“why had they been so quick, so carelessly eager to trust one another? why had they refused to see the myriad of ways they could hurt each other? why had they not paused to interrogate their differences in birth, in raising, that meant they were not and could never be on the same side?”

the next small paragraph goes into a raft metaphor about how they saw themselves in each other and that’s why they stuck together. they shared one thing they could not ignore – their otherness. their friendship was purely built on the fact they were discriminated against and that they had to spent the next 4 years with each other. their first pleasant conversation is them discussing how they were treated at oxford. of course, the characters didn’t see this because they had never really befriended people their age before. this feeling of belonging felt like love to them (considering their upbringings, ramy’s i will discuss in a bit)

it makes perfect sense why robin would repeatedly imply that they loved and cared about each other. in his eyes, they did. what was it they had if not love? robin, who has ignored so many problems in the past before babel as he knew it would cause him issues, wouldn’t address their friendship dynamic or how strong the arguments and animosity were. he, an abused child, would rather have this than nothing at all

in actuality (demonstrated, i think, through the photograph they took at the end of chapter 9), they were together because of academia’s and discrimination’s forced proximity. robin feels specific emotions about them that feel strong to him because he’s never experienced it before, but that doesn’t mean they are strong enough to keep them together, which is why when they see the photo, they feel weird about it because why isn’t it portraying their dynamic ‘correctly’?

it’s true that perhaps to get robin’s perspective across, it would’ve been good to see the positive aspects more but i think that would’ve made it harder for us to see how weak their friendship was. people wanted more positive to show that they loved each other, which isn’t the point rf kuang is trying to make

rf kuang chooses to show the negative aspects more because they show where their friendship will end up. when letty did what she did, i didn’t see it as a plot twist, i saw it as an inevitability. this was going to happen. honestly, i feel this with most of the ‘plot twists’ of babel except the end of book iii (i really didn’t see that coming). it was easy for letty to do what she does in book iv because their friendship had such unstable foundations. when they no longer benefitted her, she turned her back on them

the only dynamic i feel was actually strong was robin and ramy. i’m not just saying this because i think they’re queer lol. they were close not just because they were both men of colour and had similar upbringings – they actually liked each other. they admired each other and adored each other’s personalities, they bounced off each other and knew what the other meant when they spoke. when they argued, it was over something that actually considered each other’s beliefs and goals and desires, not over their differences.

(unlike letty and ramy, letty and victoire and maybe even robin and victoire, though i think they lean more to ramy/robin than they do to letty/anyone lol. ramy and victoire have a dynamic that i personally feel like robin didn’t really see because ramy understood victoire in a way robin couldn’t. you kind of see it when robin is the one who letty complains about ramy/victoire to, but that’s it i think?)

speaking of ramy, linking it back to their perspectives of love, it makes a lot of sense why he caused the most disruption in the friend group. he’s the only one with an actual family that he stays in touch with. he knows what love feels like. so of course he’s the one that is strongly anti-empire, compared to robin and victoire who have been emotionally manipulated in their childhood by said empire, the one who argues with letty the most. he still feels what robin and victoire feel, of course, but to a lesser extent

honestly i don’t know how to end this analysis, i just think rf kuang is a genius lmao but i may add more onto this as i continue to reread the book we shall see

[ladyloveandjustice]

My Top 12 Favorite Anime of 2023 (and more)!

This was a great year for anime, so here's a long list of my top 12 (including some bonus great anime). If you get tired of clicking the review links, check out my anime overview collection for all of them here.  You can also check out my list of favorite manga here!

Some of these are ongoing, so consider those only a review of the first cour-- no official endorsement on the rest because it hasn't aired yet!

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch From Mercury (Season 2)

When I listed G-Witch in last year's top anime list, I prayed the show wouldn't betray me. Fortunately, it didn't! Though the final half of the show was a bit rushed, it remained must-see, compelling sci-fi full of exciting twists and turns. And I adore the well developed romance between the robot-piloting protagonist and precious girl, Suletta, and her fierce fiancé, Miorine.  Whether you’re here for starcrossed queer lovers, robots wrecking each other, tense battles between opposing political factions, or morally-horrifying moms on a revenge spree, you’re in for a treat.

See my full review here.

Yuri is my Job!

Hime is roped into working at a cafe where the waitresses playact as students of the fictional all girl’s school from a beloved novel series. However, Hime finds her co-worker, Mitsuki, has an inexplicable grudge against her. Thus begins a tangled web of romance and wounded feelings among the girls in the cafe! Yuri is My Job seems like a fun comedy boasting a cast full of quirky lesbians, but then reveals itself to be a complicated and fascinating examination of performance- as it intersects with queerness, girlhood,  and the desire to be “likeable” and “cute". It's top-tier lesbian drama full of fraught relationships and it's absolutely worth a watch.

See my full review here.

The Apothecary Diaries (still ongoing, review is for the first cour)

Though it's still going, I have to sing the praises of this dazzling anime about a saavy apothecary who uses her medical expertise to solve the many murders and betrayals in the Emperor's palace. MaoMao is a fantastic lead, a poison-obsessed gremlin who's whip-smart, deadpan, and fun to follow. The Apothecary Diaries has intrigue, well-developed characters, and an impeccable atmosphere. It tells a great range of stories, from romantic triumph, to bittersweet tales of recovering from grief, to pure tragedies. I'm totally hooked.

See my full review here.

The Magical Revolution of the Reincarnated Princess and the Genius Young Lady

When Euphie is dumped by her fiance at a ball, the oddball princess Anis rescues her.  Euphie becomes Anis' assistant in her quest to develop magical tools. The girls also start to develop feelings for each other, while discovering a conspiracy among the nobility. I'm always desperately in need of cool lesbians having action-packed fantasy adventures, and Magirevo delivers. The characters grow in entertaining ways, we get to see them fight dragons in killer action scenes, and the romantic development is completely satisfying. It's a simple story at its core, but the lovable characters, joyous queerness and jubilant execution make it a great watch.

See my full review here.

Birdie Wing: Golf Girls' Story (Season 2)

In the second season of the anime about girls homoerotically golfing while dealing with the mafia and ludicrous family drama, Birdie Wing remains a bombastically absurd sports anime that is fun all the way through. Please come watch these girls get ridiculous sports  injuries, scream their super golf attacks, experience extremely extra plot twists--and be super gay with each other, of course. The finale didn't go quite as hard as I wanted (and the romance is more subtexual than I wanted), but you need to allow yourself to experience the madness of Birdie Wing.

See full review here.

Skip and Loafer

An endearingly dorky, earnest, and driven girl moves from her small town to Tokyo. While she struggles to adjust, she befriends a nice popular boy who's got some baggage. Skip and Loafer is a show that’s like a warm hug. It's sweet, entertaining and funny. It handles adolescent struggles with tender nuance. There's a emphasis on kindness, connection, and looking past stereotypes and misconceptions. It also includes a trans character who's treated with respect (and is a great character in general!) Let this show touch your heart.

See my full review here.

Undead Murder Farce

An immortal woman has had most of her body stolen by a mysterious man. Reduced to a head carried around by her maid, she teams up with a half-demon man to track the thief down while solving supernatural mysteries all across Victorian England.

This a fun, campy mystery series starring three asshole weirdo protagonists,  it’s bursting with supernatural creatures and literary references. We've got Sherlock Holmes, The Phantom of the Opera, Carmilla and more...along with a vampire murders and werewolf drama galore. UDM is a wonderful romp with stylish, slick direction... and it’s unexpectedly really gay.  I’m aching to see more of these scrappy misfits and their adventures.

See my full review here.

Migi & Dali

A story of twins who are pretending to be one kid in order to fool their foster parents and find out who killed their mother. It starts out as an utterly absurd comedy becomes a impressive and genuinely tense murder mystery that is incredibly moving at times, all while keeping up it’s signature brand of goofiness. There’s genuine commentary on abuse, the damage you can do to children by forcing perfection on them, the struggle of being a foster kid, grief and recovery and more. There's also some great character development. It's a weird one, but it's absolutely worth sticking with.

See full review here.

Pluto

Somebody is killing the most advanced robots in the  world and murdering humans alongside them. A robot detective is trying to track this killer down, but he might be compromised as well. Pluto is a tense, tense, tightly plotted robot murder mystery that keeps you on the edge of your seat. Through robots, it explores the idea of being a tool in a corrupt system, and tackles subjects like war, imperialism, and the nature of hatred. It's a masterful psychological thriller with stunning animation and a rich story.

See my full review here.

Scott Pilgrim Takes Off

This anime approaches the story of Scott Pilgrim and Ramona's seven evil exes from a brands new angle, and the results are great. We get a exploration of relationships and regrets, the messiness of communication and connection, the trials of becoming an adult, all with the signature goofy video game antics. Characters neglected in previous iterations finally get their due, new facets of the story are explored, queer relationships are delved into more, girls kiss...and it's all accompanied by phenomenal animation and a killer soundtrack.

See my full review here

Soaring Sky! Precure

Sora lives in a world called Skyland and wants to be a great hero. When rescuing the kidnapped baby princess, she falls through a portal to earth. There she meets her fellow magical warriors, and as Precure they protect the princess from the villains!

This vibrant, warm-hearted adventure got me back on the Precure train! This series boasts a lot exciting firsts for the franchise--the first official male cure, the first main cure that's eighteen years old- but above all, it has a lively team of characters with who have an entertaining dynamic and enjoyable individual journeys. It's often very funny, the baby has a surprisingly good character arc, and it's bursting with magical girl (and boy) goodness! It's also not afraid to give you an emotional gutpunch when you've been lured into a false sense of security by all the fun times. If you're new to Precure, this is a great jumping on point, and if you've watched it before, this is a series you won't want to miss.

I'm in Love with the Villainess

Rae is reincarnated as the heroine of her favorite dating sim. But she has no interest in romancing any of the boys- she’s head over heels for Claire Francois, the snooty villainess.

Villainess may not be as polished--storywise or animation-wise-- as these other entries. It's a messy series, it has plenty of problems...but it's also very fun, and it touched my queer little heart like no other. Queer people get to indulge in our imperfect faves too, and the silly shenanigans, blatant lesbian wish fulfillment, honest advocacy for queer people, and the joy and earnestness of the series works for me!

See my full review here.

Some Other Great Anime:

Frieren: Beyond Journey's End (still ongoing, review is for the first cour)

Frieren is a long-lived elf who was once part of an adventuring party that saved the world from the Demon Lord. But now her friends are passing away and the world is moving on. She decides to retrace her old party's journey so she can understand what she's feeling.

Frieren is both an interesting examination of what happens after the hero saves the world, as well as a meditation on mortality, grief,  and the endless march of time. It takes you on a quiet, beautiful and sometimes touching journey though a pastoral fantasy world. There's some breath-taking animation and excellent atmosphere to enjoy.

See my review here.

Spy x Family (Season 3)

Spy x Family is pretty much staying the course from when we last checked in,  though this season gives a lot more attention to Yor, and I love the cruise ship arc and all the ridiculous fights she gets into a lot! That arc contains some of my favorite gags of the series too (like Loid’s  attempts to be a cool dad). Otherwise, Spyfam has settled into a series that intends to be around for the long haul, so don’t expect too much forward plot momentum. And Yuri (the man, not the genre) unfortunately still exists. Overall it was good season and remains a fun  adaptation. Yor, please step on me.