#simping for him is a religion

[fangirlforeversthings]

Seeing aotc obi wan for the first time: "Jesus Christ!"

Obi: Oh thank you very much thats so lovely but...."

Me: "No. JESUS CHRIST👆🏻"

[knockandborrow]

The way so many on here dismiss misogyny as a serious issue and get so angry when women rightfully identify our oppressers. . . you will not free yourself from his chains by making excuses for his class.

[honesty-my-policy]

i'm so infuriated

I'm not Jewish and I'm so infuriated at the world.

I can't imagine how it must feel to be Jewish. Especially as this entire ordeal has made me dive more into educating myself about Jewish history and how the world truly has always blamed everything on the Jews.

How is everything their fault?

Even the crucifixion of Christ has been blamed on the Jews when it was a Roman tradition?

Martin Luther who is known as one of the original reformers in Christianity's history wrote a book called "On the Jews and Their Lies". In which he advocated for burning down synagogues, Jewish homes and if that didn't work, Jewish people!

Apparently, somehow, Jews caused the Black Death despite the fact that the most predominant modern theory is that due to climate change in Asia, rodents began to flee the dried out grasslands to more populated areas which ended up spreading the infected fleas they carried, thus spreading the disease. The fleas infected not just rats but ground rodents in general, so once the rats migrated the fleas could jump to any ground rodent and the infection spread.

Some of the craziest modern stuff though has come mostly from the Middle East (i wonder why)...

Apparently, Israel has remote control sharks that can attack Egyptian civilians and tourists, at least that's what a Governor of Egypt things. source

According to a fundamentalist group of Muslims called the Wahhabis, the Jews have a secret ally they've been conspiring with... the Gharqad tree. A tree, they call it the Jew tree. source Which is identified as either nitre bushes or Lycium which is part of the nightshade family, it's such a thing that the TREE WIKI PAGE TALKS MORE ABOUT THAT THAN THE TREE ITSELF source

Palestine once said that Israel was breeding super rats that could grow twice the size of a normal rat - just to chase Arabs out of Jerusalem, note this was in like 2008, where are these super rats NOW? source

The Nation of Islam (an organization) accused Jews of tricking people into thinking slavery exists??????? Sorry, "still" exists. This was originally in 1996, the gall this motherfucker had in 1996 to say "Where is the proof?" - oh, his name is Louis Farrakhan btw and there is an entire section dedicated to him on the anti-slavery website iabolish.org - his page

Also, Pokémon is a Zionist conspiracy plot to overthrow Saddam Hussein, at least, in 2001 that was what some Iraqi security personal reported. source

listen... I won't lie. I love a good conspiracy theory because to be honest, the amount I trust my government or anyone in authority is so small that just about anything could come out as true and I'd be so un-phased.

but blaming the Jews for everything when they make up an estimated 0.2% of the population versus say the 23% that is Muslim? Which there are approximately 50 Muslim-Majority countries in the world, though depending on sources the exact number differs.

If anything Christianity (32%) and the unaffiliated (16.3%) should be eyed at. Also, how come no one ever gives the folk religion people a hard time? Not that anyone deserves to be given a hard time as long as they aren't hurting anyone, it just boggles my mind to be honest.

sources for numbers cited came from this website: https://worldpopulationreview.com/

anyway, woke up this morning and just wanted to say this cause I'm mad and I want to show my support but also call out stupid people. I'm here to fight for Israel and the Jews, fuck off pro-palestine simps.

[motherofdogs1010]

A Jedi in Arrakis III (Paul Atreides x Reader)

Summary: While on the run from Empire troops, Jedi padawan Y/N comes to find out that hyper-driving in a compromised craft can have some major setbacks when she discovers not only is on a new planet but a whole new galaxy as well...

Warnings: 18+ only, eventual smut, eventual pinv! sex, current fluff and eventual angst, kissing, simp!Paul, spoilers for Dune 1 and 2, somewhat canon aligned

A/N: Sorry for the hiatus, loves! I'm back and ready to grace you with my works!!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics Banner by @vase-of-lilies

Part I Part II Part IV

The Baron was a man of heavy weight and heavy glutton, he liked food and power with women waiting for him. He liked the power that Geidi Prime gave him, but most of all, he liked the power that controlling Spice, no controlling Arrakis gave him.

This is why he felt anger towards the Emperor for forcing his soldiers off-planet and handing his cash cow to the damned soft-hearted Duke Leto and his house.

He hated House Atredies with a passion and he could recall the countless interactions he had with Duke Leto, the heated arguments he had with the man.

Which is why he felt happy when the Emperor proposed the slaying of House Atreides, the slaughtering of those damned fools.

"There is a rumor floating around", one of his advisors said, "of a girl from not of this galaxy that the Duke has taken in, someone with some extraordinary abilities. The Emperor wants her alive, especially since the na-Duke is said to be quite taken with the girl."

The Baron grumbled as the sound of the Sardaukar's throaty chanting filled his ears.

It was another hot day on Arrakis, the dry heat of the planet making Y/N wonder why Paul and other members of House Atreides were wearing all-black. Y/N had been offered a loose, beige dress that she wore with a scarf covering that concealed her head and neck from the harshness of the sun that came down on the planet.

"Tell me more about Arrakis", she said to Paul as he led her outside. "I feel like we've only ever talked about our home planets."

"Everything I learned is from the archives", Paul began as she noticed a place of worship ahead of them. "The people who inhabit the planet call themselves Fremen, they're the only ones to ever to successfully live here. The sandstorms here are brutal, they ravage and destroy anything that crosses them... maybe not a sandworm, but anything yes."

Paul spoke in a gentle yet enthusiastic voice that made her stomach flop around and she felt her ears begin to get hot. She was embarrassed at the way he was stirring feelings, forbidden feelings in her as they walked along the compound.

"They value water here the most and the Spice they are constantly exposed to gives them blue eyes. Not much is known about them since they prefer to remain to remain remote."

"And you said Spice is what is needed to travel?" she said, Paul nodded.

"We rely a lot on Spice, which is why it is so unheard of that you traveled here without Spice", Paul clarified. "The Emperor gave my father control of this planet to find peace with the Fremen People but before, House Harkonnen controlled it."

Y/N saw inside the temple many people praying; religion wasn't something uncommon back home, there were so many from the Mandolorians to the Sith but she had never really seen such worship before.

"What are they praying to?" she asked, gesturing to the people.

"To Shai-Hulud", Paul said as a warm breeze came by, "it is also a Fremen custom to spit at one's feet with how they value water."

"We greet and say goodbye by saying 'may the force be with you'", she said with a small grin.

She missed home despite the intrigue this galaxy brought, although she wondered how much was about the galaxy than it was her interest and growing intrigue with Paul.

🪐

Jedi law dictated that love or any form of romantic feelings were forbidden yet Y/N could recall a conversation she had with Anakin about the law.

"It's an odd law", Anakin had said, "love is the strongest form of the Force yet it can also be your weakness."

Y/N wondered about it as she walked the halls of the compound; Paul had been pulled away by his mother, Lady Jessica as she said that the Reverend Mother was wishing to speak to Paul. It gave her time to contemplate on her growing feelings for Paul with BB following behind, letting out a little chirp every so often.

Lady Jessica had been pleasant to her, the woman reminding her of some of the older Jedi Masters with her way of speech and stance, but Y/N had managed to piece together that it had to be from strict upbringings and belief of the Bene Gesserit.

"Ah, F/N", a familiar voice called out to her and turning around, she saw it was the Duke, himself.

"Oh, Duke Leto", she said, "how nice it is to see you. Thought you'd be caught up doing Duke stuff."

Duke Leto chuckled as he said, "I'm on my way to find Lady Jessica."

"She took Paul to meet with some Reverend woman?" Y/N said with a questioning tone.

Leto sucked in a breath and nodded, Y/N wondered just how this Bene Gesserit ideology worked. It was nothing she had ever seen before back home and seeing the way the Bene Gesserit sisters carried themselves intimidated her just a bit by how their eyes singularly focused on you as if they were truly trying to dissect you right down to your core.

She just hoped that she wasn't about to fall into their cross hairs.

Another night came to Arrakis with cool air and a beautiful night sky that always kept reminding her of Tatoonie as BB charged in the corner. Her hair was down again and she was in another loose muslin nightgown to help with the heat of the planet; she had the doors closed along with the windows as she sat in her room, watching a hologram archival documentary on the planet.

The Duke was pleasant to talk to, he was knowledgeable and kind, and for some reason reminded her of Obi-Wan.

A knock, a familiar knock echoed in her room and she tried to suppress a smile as she knew it was Paul.

Walking to the door, it slid open to reveal the young na-Duke but she could see something was troubling his mind a bit as she greeted him in.

"Something troubling you, Paul?"

Paul looked at her as they sat on the small sofa that was in the room.

"Your way of believing is so simple yet so understandable", Paul breathed, "my mother was supposed to birth a girl, it's how it's been for eons with the Bene Gesserit."

"Why?" she frowned.

"I think... it's so they could eventually get their Kwisatz Haderach", Paul voiced, Y/N frowned. "It's their Messiah, a male heir that possesses the abilities of the Bene Gesserit."

"And you think it's you?"

"I hope it's not me."

She remembered Paul's earlier explanations of the abilities of the Bene Gesserit sisters and their use of something he called 'the Voice', which reminded her of the way the Force could be used to manipulate weak minds.

Paul was quiet for a moment before he scooted closer to her and she felt her breath get caught a bit in her throat as she stared at him.

"I have these... visions", Paul said, staring into her eyes. "I dream of things that I'm never too sure of and for months, I dreamed of a girl... I dreamed of you."

Y/N felt heat rushing through her as the sound of the hologram documentary rang quietly in the room.

"And ever since you've arrived, it's felt like I've been living a dream... a dream that I never want to wake up from."

And before she knew it, she felt Paul's lips against hers in a soft, gentle kiss and her heart raced as she felt a surge of electricity go through her...

So many thoughts were running through her mind in that quick moment and maybe it was the instant connection she had felt towards Paul, maybe it was some odd corruption from the Sith side of the Force that made her entangle her fingers through his dark, curly hair and push her body against his lithe frame.

But all she knew at the moment was that Paul felt like home.

TAGLIST

@cloudlst

@khlaeesihavilliard

@colors-for-the-world-please

@senhoritaapple

@dark1paradise

[akiswife1237]

AMORALITY

When the king of curses stuns himself by falling for someone who represents everything he's not.

This will be a series! I'll try to update frequently but again, tag if you want to join the ride!

tw: smut, violence, mentions of violence, angst,

true form sukuna, this also takes place in the lovely heian era

This story will kind of go backwards LOL, it starts with Sukuna being a confused simp and then it delves more into the angst hehehe

Again, I'm not religious at all so heavily religious ppl i mean no harm or disrespect! there's no specific religion mentioned as well

The sky was adorned with an intense blue, the clouds scattered all across as they hover over the blossoming flowers that have grown beautifully over time. The warm wind blew gently over the grass and you smiled peacefully as you tended to the community garden in front of the church.

Your, church.

Due to the good deeds you had done for your village and decently populated community, the people decided to appoint you as their priest. Someone who would spread the word of their god, someone who would provide wisdom and comfort, and someone who was pure.

You thought the task too heavy at first, but afraid to let down the people who relied on you, you gave in.

Things got easier over time, and you performed just as everyone expected of you; you gave them everything they needed and more. It was the least you could do for the people who adored you so dearly. 

As you continued to tend to your garden, you halted in tilting your watering can when you felt a strong aura behind you, it was so heavy that you could feel it all throughout your body, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as you froze in place.

As you fought against this unknown feeling, you forced your self to turn around, your eyes widening when you saw an absolute beast of a man standing in front of you.

He was as tall as ever, definitely taller than 6 feet, thats for certain. His well-kept and muscular body was nearly covered in what seemed to be tattoos? You couldn't tell. But what caught your eye the most was the two pairs of arms that he had, one pair was seemingly ready to strike you as the other hands on his lower arms rested against his hips. He did little to cover himself, and you didn't fail to notice the presence of a mouth near his abdomen as well.

Craning your head upward, you were met with crimson-red eyes—no, multiple crimson-red eyes staring down at you—and the pink-haired man's face wore a slight scowl.

Despite looking like a beast and a half, you couldn't deny that, despite his unique qualities perplexing you, he was indeed handsome. 

Sukuna had been busy traveling from his fruitless missions and was as irritated as ever. Though the reward had been heavy in gold and luxuries, the requests he took on were pretty much useless and resulted in him just burning the shameless town to the ground.

He needed something else to satisfy him, and fast.

As he headed north, deep in thought, he suddenly paused, a wicked grin painting his face when he remembered just what was in the town he'd be passing through.

A church.

He had heard from passerbys that the priestess's there were absolutely divine, hopeful, and represented purity itself.

He couldn't wait to ruin them. Perhaps he'd kidnap one after the mass slaughter, if he felt generous enough.

He had nearly made it to the entrance before pausing when he saw someone outside, his wicked grin only growing wider.

Perfect, his first victim.

As he drew closer, he suddenly paused when the priestess tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He now had a full view of her face, which made him freeze once he got a good look at it. 

He felt a sudden rush in his chest, his heartbeat quickening the longer he stared. The rush he felt wasn't the normal one he had; it wasn't one of adrenaline, but one of... surprise? 

He was stunned, to say the least.

He tried to ignore this feeling and drew closer to the priestess, he had his own mission after all, but he couldn't deny the foreign feeling sitting heavy in his chest.

He was now behind you and just as he was about to strike, the priest' instincts suddenly kicked in and she turned around to meet his gaze.

He scowled when he realized he couldn't come as quietly as he hoped, oh well, he was never good at being subtle anyways.

The moment your eyes met, though, he couldn't move, he felt his world slowing down and he gulped as he stayed in place, the scowl still on his face.

Your innocent eyes batted up at him with confusion and your lips parted so perfectly that it was enough to turn his brain into mush. It didn't help that the sunlight highlighted all of your beauty perfectly.

You were unlike anything he's ever seen before, absolutely breathtaking...

...What was he here to do again?

an: that's chapter one! stay tuned for chapter two hehehe, again comment to be part of the tag if you want to be updated !!

tags: @getossluttt @busyreader17 @scarasluvvr @unknown5029 @koshii-meji @genderfluidnuggettt @sterzin

[baby-tini]

Okay, okay, so this is kinda touching on religion, so if you're uncomfortable, please ignore this!!

But I can just imagine Dabi shoving his dick down the reader's throat, knowing she's super religious, saying something like "I am your God now," and before she can reply, shoves it deeper.

Im a simp and I'm not apologizing for it.

No, because I can definitely see this... also I'm fine with writing religious things, don't worry. I do want to say that, I support all religious beliefs and this is not meant to offend anyone, it's all fiction. TW: religious themes, noncon blowjob, yandere Dabi, Dabi has a God complex, disrespect and mocking of said beliefs, implied kidnapping. Dabi thought your beliefs were stupid, he pitied you for your beliefs to someone who would never answer them, they would never come save you. He looked at like, those naive people who still looked up to heros.. they didn't care about you, so what's the point in devoting your life to someone that allowed a monster, like Dabi, too take you away from everything that you once knew. Allowed a villian to break you down and use you for his own selfish desires. He'd watch you pray to a God that never saved you, cause if they cared, you wouldn't still be chained to the bed, stuck in a cycle of naive hope, waiting for someone, you should know by now, wouldn't help you. "I'm gettin' tired of this doll, you'll get on your knees for a non-existent God.. but not for me?" He scoffs, watching you pray on your knees, hands folded on the bed. Standing in the door way with a scowl he walks over to you, pulling you up by your hair. He sits on your bed as he makes you stand in between his spread legs. You try to pull away, you really do, slapping at his hands and trying to back away. It just doesn't work though, with a couple harsh slaps to your naked thighs, your attempted fighting subsides. "Try and pull away again, see what happens." His eyes are narrowed, the bright cerulean now a dark admiral blue, sharp eyes waiting for you to step out of line as his hand tightens in your hair. His free hand coming to wrap around your throat, causing you to bend, face to face with him. His eyes fly over your face as he grins, pulling you down harder so that your situated on your knees. He looks down at you, a faux pout on his mis-matched lips. The hand on your throat eases up when you completely stop struggling, running the hand in your hair, down your face, petting your cheek as he laughs. "There we go, pretty girl... just stop fighting, hm? Be good for me, It's so much more filling to behave for me." Moving both hands to your face, he rubs his thumbs over your cheeks, in comforting circles as he coos at you mockingly. Keeping a hand on your jaw, he unbuckles his belt with the other, popping open the button as he unzips his pants, slightly pulling down his pants and boxers, just enough to pull his cock out. There's an immediate attempt to pull away on your end, wiggling away as he squeezes his hand harder around your face. "Ah ah, you like it on your knees so much, praying to bullshit.. you'll love worshipping my cock then. I'm your new God now, you'll serve me, whether you like it or not." He places the leaky head on your lips, tapping it on your bottom lip before the hand on your jaw squeezes, causes your lips to open slightly and he pushes in. Moving both his hands through your hair, making you bob your head, his grip unyielding on your hair as you gag. His pre cum slipping down your throat causing you too choke as your eyes squeeze tight. "Don't. Look your God in the eyes as he cums down your throat, show him how much you appreciate him.'

[grimoireofhayley]

Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ Content, Stalking, Possessiveness, Dirty talk, Religion talk, Suppressed Mental Health problems (I.e., reader has some issues that she isn't aware of)

Word Count: 1k

Tag List: @ev3ningrain @nerdytif @fanfic-enjoyer123 @darkenwolfie @juda-the-simp @colsons-baker @junnniiieee07 @octaviablakeslove

A/n: YES, two chapters in one night? Let’s gooo! I was squealing and kicking my feet like any normal 23 year old would writing Fanfiction, lmao. This is by far my favourite chapter ever written, let me know what you think! Did I get Billy’s personality a-okay?

All chapter links! 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 9

Billy ignored your attempt at trying to help him, though, it was true, it wasn’t entirely…

He did kill Casey and Steve that night, but he didn’t do it alone, Stu was with him, he did just as much as he did. After the slaughtering was done, he made it clear to Stu that he needed an alibi, hence his short and brief sexual encounter with Sidney before he went to your house for ‘help.’

Billy hated how you were covering for him despite not knowing what was happening, you were smart, but stupid, stupid enough to believe him. You knew better than to do that. However, what he didn’t get was why Stu decided to go to your place, when he knew Billy was going to try and murder Sidney tonight.

He overheard other officers talking about another incident involving the ghost face that took place at your house, something about a heart in a box and a mask that was found… But how could Stu be this dense?

“Officer, I didn’t kill anybody.” Billy defended himself, not wanting to stay the night locked away, especially with his slip up at Sidney’s and Stu’s arrogance because the cops now know there’s two of them instead of one.

“This is bullshit.” You slammed your fist down, startling the taller-male. “He didn’t kill anyone…” Your ears started to flare red.

Officer Brinks drummed his fingers on his lap, “I’m sorry, are you his girlfriend or something? Why are you still here, interfering with my interrogation?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the mere mention of ‘girlfriend.’

“I-I’m not his girlfriend…” You stuttered, “You couldn’t tell by the way he was talking about Sidney? Sidney is his girlfriend…” You licked your lips, looking away, confidence coming back. “I’m just a really good friend who strongly believes he didn’t do it… I mean, the evidence is there. So, why would he try to kill his girlfriend?” You gave the officer a side-eye.

He coughs, clearing his throat, ignoring your comments.

“We’re gonna have to hold you, son, until we get those phone records.” Brinks explains, making Billy look down, upset. A small tear rolling down his cheek as he shakes his leg, nerves taking control of his body.

“This is crazy,” Billy murmurs, turning away, looking at Sidney through the glass pane. “You know that? I didn’t do it.” He finishes.

You step in front of the window, closing the blinds, shielding Billy from Sidney’s scared gaze. “Bil, look at me…” You mumble, taking your index finger and placing it under his chin, tilting his head upwards to look at you. “Can you two give us a moment…” You asked both Hank and Brinks, “Please?”

They nodded, understandingly, leaving the two of you alone.

“I know you didn’t do it and the police will find out soon enough that you didn’t do it, that you didn’t make those calls.” You reassured your friend, trying to cheer him up, “I’m sure it’s all just a big misunderstanding; you know, wrong place wrong time.” You smiled, and for a second, Billy’s eyes softened, his big-brown orbs looked at you with a glint of love and temptation; a hint of possessiveness lingering in them. If only you knew that it was him, that he was the Ghost Face, that these tears and sudden relations with Sidney was all a facade, nothing but lies, he wanted you and only you, he wanted this to be all done, but his revenge was far greater than any feelings he ever had, or was it?

“Billy, honestly, I know you better than any of them; better than Sidney, your father and the police…” You pucker your lips, a small giggle falling from them. “If it was you, I’d know, right? You’d call me to come help with the bodies.” You joked, “We’re a team. We always will be.” You ran your hand through his hair, playing with it, “I would do anything for you.” You blushed, still playing with his strands of brown.

Right then and there, he knew.

“Forgive me…” He whispers.

You were confused, but that quickly faded as his lips crashed into yours.

Your grip tightened in his hair out of surprise as he cups your face, kissing you with such force you’ve never seen him do with Sidney.

He knocked the chair over with his body, tumbling forward in the process. His lips never leave your now plump and swollen ones as you kiss back.

You stumbled into the window from Billy’s movement, a quiet thud emitting around the atmosphere.

He moved his hand from your chin, pressing you harder against the pane, the blinds moving ever-so-slightly, but not enough to reveal the heated session surfacing.

He roughly grabs your sides, making your gown shuffle upwards, his thumbs pressing into your skin, leaving dents. It was painful, but also very rewarding. There were sure to be bruises there tomorrow.

“B-Billy…” You moaned, feeling him press his knee against your cunt, a shrill of excitement bubbling inside the pit of your stomach

He continued to kiss you, his face pink with lust, his eyes undressing you, slowly devouring you whole.

“You have no idea how long I waited to do that…” He started breathlessly, letting go of you, but not completely as he fiddled with the hems of your nightgown.

‘God, why am I now just noticing what she’s wearing?’ He thought, biting the tip of his thumb, soaking in your beauty, his one hand never leaving its grasp on you.

You bit your lip, realization finally hitting you in the face like a bunch of bricks.

“Oh, god…” You whispered, “I-I… We can’t…” You mumbled, pushing away, “I have to go…”

<- Previous Next ->

[pudding-parade]

Sorry, but I have to get political on all your asses, at least those of you who live in the US. It will be a one-time thing on this subject, the only thing that I will say here about the election before it happens. And yeah, I'm going to say this on a blog devoted to a stupid video game. Why? Because I know that I have younger American people who follow me here, and if y'all are like some of the younger people I've talked to in real life and online in other venues, I have concerns. So I'm going to say all this as an old-ass, progressive American. Because if I can wake up one apathetic mind out there, it will be worth it. And if you're pissed at me for making a single political post at this important juncture, then fuck off and unfollow me or send me nasty messages or whatever you want to do. I don't care. And I'm not cutting this, either.

My dear followers: Donald Trump cannot -- CANNOT -- become president again.

Late last night, Trump posted on his Truth Social account a video containing language and images reminiscent of the World War era. It was about his fantasies of what America would be like, should he win the general election in about five months. It contained suspicious imagery and phrases like "creating a unified Reich." Does that sort of language sound familiar? Especially when combined with his rhetoric about immigrants being "vermin" that "poison the blood of our country?" Ring any bells? I'm sure it does for any German folks who might read this.

Trump's post was only taken down about 12 hours later, after backlash over it, and then Trump claimed that a "low level staffer" posted it, not him. Which is either a lie OR he was lying when he said previously that only he and his campaign's communications director have or will ever have access to that account. If you want more info about this, here's a short video from Jesse Dollemore, an independent commentator:

This election isn't about liberal/progressive vs. conservative. It truly doesn't matter what your personal ideology is because this election is about saving democracy. This is about preserving your freedoms, because we won't be able to do anything about any other issue, whatever our individual ideologies and pet issues are, if our basic freedoms upon which this country was founded -- freedom of speech and to protest, freedom of (and from) religion, freedom of the press -- are chipped away until they are gone. Because that's what autocrats do. They want freedom only for themselves, and Donald Trump and his cronies and hangers-on are all autocrat wannabes.

And if you -- Yes, you, even if you're sitting in the middle of blood-red state -- don't vote for Joe Biden, you will be doing your part to hand the autocrats what they want, because a non-vote or a vote for anyone other than Biden is in fact a vote for Trump and autocracy. Similarly, you must also vote for Democrats for all other positions, local, state, and federal so that America's overt flirtation with autocracy that's been going on since at least the 1990s might finally end once and for all.

Yes, yes, I know: "But Genocide Joe!" Think about it: Do you seriously think that Trump, who licks Netanyahu's asshole because he sees him as the kind of "strong man" that Trump wants to be, is going to help Gaza? Or that he'll go against Putin and continue aid to Ukraine? Because if you think that he will do either of those things, I have several bridges I'd like to sell you. No, Trump is going to "put America first." He says it all the time, and what he means by that is that he will do nothing except whatever it takes to keep himself and his cronies in power while also isolating America by severing ties to our allies. Gaza will be given to Netanyahu just as Ukraine will be given to Putin, should Trump win, and he won't give a shit. In the end, Biden (and Harris, should she have to take over) will listen and help Gaza, maybe not as much as we'd like because the Middle East situation is complicated and there are no simple solutions, but a Biden-led government will certainly help more than another Trumpian government would. And Biden will definitely continue to aid Ukraine, because that situation isn't complicated at all.

And in the end, it's not really about Ukraine and Gaza, though they are of course important. It's about us. Should Trump get into the White House again, he will surround himself with people who want America to be a plutocratic and authoritarian autocracy, very similar to Putin's Russia. This is not hyperbole. This is fact. A vote for Trump -- either actual or de facto by fucking around with not voting or voting for a third party because you think it's a "protest" -- is a vote to end democracy, plain and simple, which might very well mean that you'll never be able to protest again another day.

How bad could Trump be, you ask? Who cares who is president? Well, have a look at Project 2025. It's a 900-page "playbook" for the next "conservative" administration. (In quotes because there is nothing "conservative" about these people, including Trump and his cronies; they are radicals.) It is nothing less than a plan to destroy the federal government, the Constitution, and the freedoms that it enshrines and protects, which means the end of democracy. They published a similar tome before Reagan was elected, and once he was in, Reagan followed through with a lot of it. I have no doubt that Trump would, too, given that his "Agenda 47" platform is basically the same. Here is an article that summarizes Project 2025 and details some of its directives. And here is an article from Time Magazine, of all things, where the writer of it interviewed Trump about his vision for America, should he win. The first line of the article is, "Donald Trump thinks he’s identified a crucial mistake of his first term: He was too nice." You can read the transcripts of the interviews, too, so you can rest assured that the interviewer isn't being hyperbolic.

It ain't good, folks. Part of this extreme-right agenda is ridiculously expanding the power of the executive branch so that it would no longer be checked and balanced by Congress and the Supreme Court, which effectively turns the presidency into a dictatorship. And if Biden does not win, at least some of this bullshit will come to pass, especially because Trump already has the Supreme Court in his pocket. And he'll be able to appoint more young, far-right lunatics to that, too, should he win.

I'll repeat that Trump CANNOT win. I'll be the first to say that, as a pretty extreme (but also pragmatic) progressive, I'm not Biden's biggest fan, for various reasons. He is way farther right than I am, though he has been far more progressive-friendly than I expected and he has gotten some very good things done. But even if he wasn't and hadn't, he will preserve democracy and because of that, I will be voting for him without hesitation. I won't even have to hold my nose. Trump and his cronies in Congress and the Supreme Court will destroy democracy if you -- Yes, YOU! -- let them. And if you let them by deciding not to vote or doing some sort of lame "protest" vote, especially if you live in that handful of states where every presidential vote matters, you will have no one to blame but yourself and others like you. People being apathetic or doing "protest" votes is what got us Trump the first time around.

For fuck's sake, do the right thing.

[thedeathlysallows]

Is It Over Now? (11)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon

Summary: And maybe it was ego's swinging

Warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest. Developing Stockholm Syndrome, Aemma is becoming an unreliable narrator. Simp!Aemond appears again (not that he really ever leaves lol). Smut, fingering, religion kink, not sub!Aemond but he does beg a bit, oral (f!receiving)

(We've reached the Alys Rivers arc and it'll probably take a few chapters to settle. Also, we've shifted to this song for the second half of the story.)

Tag list: @callsignwidow

"You know how much I love you," Aemond whispers in your ear as the candles flicker out, plunging your bedchamber into darkness. His arms wrap around your waist and hold you in a vice grip against the hard edges of his body. "Enough with the punishment."

You can't help but scoff. "Punishment? Tell me, my dear husband, how are you the one being punished when I'm the one expected to sit back and watch my family be hunted into extinction?"

"I've apologized countless times for Lucerys."

"Yes, of course you have. All of you have, save for Aegon and that scheming snake of a man you call grandfather. All everyone does is apologize to me."

"What more do you need? What will end this?"

"Give me your other eye."

"What?"

Aemond looks at you, disbelief coloring his sharp features. You stare back, unblinking. Moments pass by in silence as the two of you take each other in. You aren't sure what exactly triggers it, but your lower lip quivers and tears spring to your eyes.

"I don't mean it. Not really. I don't know why I said it..." You choke out a sob and bury your face in his chest. Aemond's hand immediately goes to your hair as he comforts you.

He knew you didn't mean- you would never be so vicious- but the comment was still jarring nonetheless. Aemond knew you would never mean such a thing, but there's still a slight tremor in his hand as he pets you gently. He's worked so hard to get to this point, to have you in his arms, and he feels like he can see the end of it all before it's barely even begun.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me." The tears won't stop no matter how hard you try.

A small flicker of hope flickers in Aemond's chest. "Could you be pregnant?"

"It hasn't been long enough."

"It's been two months at this point. We've both been performing our duties-"

"How clinical." You look up at him wryly, feeling uncertain of his reaction to your outburst. You really hadn't meant to say that to him. You were just so angry and then so desperately sad when you realized how hurtful you'd been.

Aemond smiles down at you indulgently, tilting your chin to press your lips to his. "Shall I be more romantic then?"

Your stomach churns violently in direct competition with the heat growing between your thighs. You love Aemond- at least you think you do- but you also love your mother and brothers. There's a part of you still lost to mourning. You've heard nothing from anyone, locked away inside your ivory tower in the Keep, only allowed news from Aemond's mouth directly. (Or Aegon's when he sends Aemond off some place or another, but even that's becoming less frequent as Aegon becomes more and more obsessed with being King.)

"You? Romantic? Maybe if the Conqueror himself returned." The joke comes easily. Joking with Aemond has always been easy. You can do that. You can tell jokes and make him smile because you like his smile, and because it's safer to distract him than fuck him.

You still keep your master plan in the back of your mind: let all of them think they've tamed you until you can find a way back to your mother's side. When you came up with your plan you didn't anticipate it would become harder and harder to pretend with each passing day. You didn't anticipate actually loving Aemond, nor did you anticipate Aemond's love for you being real.

It's terrifying to feel your grip slowly loosening.

Aemond's voice calls you back from your thoughts while he gently rolls you under him. "I can be romantic if that's what you need. I'll be anything you need. Just let me in."

"Aemond-"

"Please, don't fight me anymore. Stop pushing me away. I adore you, why can't you see that?" His fingers dig in to the fabric of your nightgown, pulling and tugging until it's over your head, discarded on the floor by the unlit fire place. Your skin feels like it's on fire as his gaze travels over your body, hands following each curve and dip.

"So pretty," he whispers adoringly.

"Don't. Please."

Aemond's eye flickers up to yours. He still keeps the patch on, neither one of you fully ready to embrace the consequences of the past when the present is so precarious. You swallow thickly, unable to look away as his hand creeps up to your breast. His fingers toy with the soft buds there, teasing your nipples until you're almost sore. A soft whine escapes you and you see Aemond's face darken.

"Don't what?" He finally says. "Don't worship you as the goddess you are?"

Aemond bends his head to kiss just under your breasts, reveling in the feel of your soft stomach as he drags his lips lower. If you were burning before, you're positively on fire now, desperate for whatever Aemond will do next. He reaches your thighs with a moan, nipping at the delicate skin there.

"Let me die on your altar," he says. "I'll do it happily, over and over."

Your fingertips thread through his silky hair and you pull his face to your cunt. Aemond breathes out a small laugh that sends a puff of warm air over your sensitive pussy. He wastes no time, diving between your folds like a starving man. His tongue is absolutely sinful as he licks you, working a magic you never would've expected from him.

"Aemond, yes, right there." You moan out the words, knowing how much he loves the praise. And you're more than happy to give it as his long fingers enter you, pumping in time with each lick he gives your clit.

"Tell me you love me," Aemond demands while he keeps thrusting and curling his fingers inside your cunt. "Tell me you're mine."

You nod, his words not fully registering, but you repeat them anyway. "I'm y-yours... l-love you... so much."

"Mmm, such a good girl. You've always been so, so good, haven't you?" Aemond's fingers brush against that most sensitive spot inside you and you arch your back off the bed, screaming his name like a litany of prayers over and over.

"Look at you. Haven't even put my cock in you and your already coming." He pulls you into a lazy kiss, all tongue and teeth and you don't mind at all. "I've always believed you're the Maiden come to save me."

Aemond buries his face in your neck, nipping and biting, leaving marks you know the whole court will see. "Will you save me? Absolve my sins?"

You sigh, fingernails digging into his back as you hook your legs over his waist. "Aemond...please, please, please."

"Forgive me, Maiden." Aemond pants the words into your ear, his hips jerking when your warm cunt drags across his cock. "Forgive me so I can worship you properly, please."

You nod, desperate to feel him inside you. "I forgive you."

With a heady sigh he sinks into you, his cock stretching you out in the most exquisite way. You see stars behind your eye lids as he begins fucking you, pounding his cock deep inside your cunt. He's ruthless and desperate in his movements as he watches you come undone beneath him, the very image of Heaven.

"I love you," Aemond moans. "Ah, fuck, I love you..."

You whine desperately, completely at his mercy as he cums inside you and fills your cunt. You have the brief thought that maybe this time you are pregnant, but Aemond is there before you can pursue the thought further. He brushes the hair from your face and kisses your nose before laying down beside you and pulling you close.

"Aegon is sending me to Harrenhal in the morning. I asked to take you with me, but the Council convinced him it would be a mistake. I promise I'll return as soon as I'm able."

"Harrenhal..." You can see Harwin Strong's face in your mind's eye, so similar to that of your brothers'...

Aemond strokes your face worriedly. "Please don't lock yourself in this room while I'm gone."

But you can't promise anything.

[idontknowreallyidontcare]

KÖNIG HC’S FOR MY KÖNIG GIRLS.

- I HC him as being definitely taller than your average man, but not his fanon height. Many people go with the narrative that he’s 6’10/2m 08cm’s, for what I understood this is a made up data, nowhere is it specified that he’s actually 6’10, so what I actually assign him is a height of 6’7, we know how Ghost is somewhere between 6’4/6’5 which it’s still pretty tall (1,89 cm), but we also know by comparing the models, that König is a bit taller, so I am kind of basing his height on this difference between him and Ghost. Also, knowing he could not be a sniper because of his height motivates me even more to think that he is indeed a guy bigger than your average. Again, it’s a personal HC, may or may not be shared, it’s not a canon attribute.

- As I already specified in some of my other posts, I view him as a clean individual, in a sense than he has a routine and will try to maintain it even on duty. Being at the barracks will not obstruct his routine, he washes his hair with shampoo and conditioner, he uses a particular face soap, made for his type of skin, and he uses body lotion instead of a bar of soap. It has to be said that he wasn’t always this organized, for example, thanks to you he got to buy the face wash that he now brings everywhere he goes, you kinda talked to him about using a bar of soap for all the body and explained to him how unhygienic was to use the same towel for face, body and cock/ass, because despite you being ‘clean’ after the shower, you’re still dragging bacteria form around your body onto your face and hair, overall you kinda motivated him to uplift his already good habits. He sometimes lets you do his skincare too, and when he remembers, he will actually put some face cream on. He’s still a bit fearful of coming as not very masculine, but you’re making him work on it, so he can accept that taking care of himself will never be a turn down for you, not when he’s already so hot for his age, he better maintain himself!

- Another critical point about our Köni is his age. We have a vague idea of how old he could be, many HC’ing him from 35 to late 40’s. My guess is he could be somewhere between 38 and 43, I do prefer him as a 39/40 years grandpa tho. Again, personal HC, do not take it as canon! I’d be happy honestly if they would reveal his age, probably because no matter what, I’d still simp even if he turned out to be 50 years lmaooooo.

- Yes, he does come from a village in the country side, but he did join military pretty young, so I HC him as being actually a pretty open minded individual. Remember he gets to work with technology every day, he knows what’s going on around the world, and him joining young actually was a benefit, because he got to form his own opinions in a place that welcomed every kind of human beings. He didn’t get to grow up from the hate he received at school so he kind of escaped a life where he could’ve easy became what we call an inc€l today. He grew some balls, got his priorities right. He was for sure subjected to some kind of morally wrong opinions that grew into him, that’s why you’re spending time on him, being patient and trying to explain to him many things he considered undeniable reality until he meet you. The classic ones are: males should not cry because only girls do, women can work but they would be better at home, men don’t pay attention to their physical appearance that’s for feminine boys, and many similar things. He’s slowly getting out of his habits, and you’re proud of him.

- Listen, people have mixed feelings about this one but imma say it, aside from shipping and all, König is not and will never be Homophobic. He does not have any problem with lgbt+ nor is he disturbed by couples openly showing affection in his presence. Early access to internet and a very religious family could have created the worst possible outcome for him, but he was never big into religion, already redeeming it a waste of time at a young age, but still attending church because of his mom. He knows some recruits are openly gay, he doesn’t see a problem nor does it bother him knowing he could be someone’s crush. Now I do HC him as completely straight, but again it’s MY way of imagining König, I still think that in an orgy or threesome with reader, if he trusts the other male part, he would not be against having their cocks in the same hole, rubbing against each other, or in general he would not be against having some skin to skin contact with another male because at the end he does it because it only benefits you.

- He is a perverted dog, not only because he is ‘old’ and has fucked young girls (not minors! He is not morally fucked up like that), or generally his sexual history is pretty normal for a man that age, he was just always eager to see, learn and search for what he felt was exciting to him. He had threesomes before us, he has sex, he did many things that gave him the skills and experience he’s been using on us, but yes overall I HC him as being the one that always had a porn journal under his pillow, he would even lend them around the barracks.

- He loves pussy. He eats it for HIS own pleasure okay? He would die between your legs. He cums only by eating you out. He gets drunk on pussy. Pussy is what he lives for. He’ll never die on field, living purely out of spite, because he’ll no! What do you mean he’s never gonna enjoy your pussy again if he dies! ABSOLUTELY NOT! He’ll get home, beaten, cut, stabbed, whatever, but he’ll be home to you, and he will lick your pussy for the rest of the night saying “this what’s keeping me alive honey”. And truth is you can’t deny it to him, because it’s so good, no matter the circumstances, it always brings him back home.

[whorety-k]

a song that I really like is bedroom hymns by florence + the machine, which I think would work quite well with lorgar. And even if you don’t write anything with it do listen to her songs cause they’re all utter bangers. I highly recommend them

I'm a simp for Florence + The Machine lovey, don't you worry. I have sang Sky Full Of Song outside in the middle of a storm as the gods intended.

you are SO right about bedroom hymns being perfect for Lorgar, so please let me indulge us all with this one

I hope you intended for this drabble to be NSFW because a song about sex guised as a religious metaphor has me thinking about religious sex. Please enjoy my shaky understanding of structured religion and my attempt at cramming as much blasphemous/religious language as possible.

(my own religion is not very structured so this was actually a fun learning experience)

Pairing: Lorgar Aurelian x wife!Reader

Song Inspiration: Bedroom Hymns - Florence + The Machine [Youtube] [Spotify]

“Sweating out confessions / The undone and the divine / ‘Cause this is his body / This is his love / Such selfish prayers / and I can’t get enough.”

Warnings: NSFW 18+ content, heavy religious tones and language, body worship

Word Count: 462

A feather-light kiss pressed to the inside of your calf causes you to give a full body shudder, and you feel your husband’s broad chest rumble with sweet laughter. 

“So sensitive,” Lorgar whispers, breathless. His amethyst eyes trail over the love bites he’s left between your thighs, full of veneration. Devoted fingertips examine the newest scripture: a crimson bloom situated within the curve of your hip. The way he spreads your pages wide and reveres your texts has you squirming and pleading his name like a mantra. 

A delicate finger runs through your folds, gathering your dripping essence before sinking in sinfully slow. A low moan bubbles in your chest, relieved at finally receiving stimulation after the teasing worship Lorgar has been lavishing your body with.

Lorgar lifts himself from between your legs to hover over you. A free hand tips your chin towards him, smiling when your eyes find his. He kisses away your sacrificial tears as his thumb begins to rub circles in your puffy clit, playing your body the way he knows drives you towards rapture.

Leaving you dripping with tender touches is promise.

Stretching you open on his fingers is liturgy.

Sinking his aching cock into your heat is sacrament. 

Lorgar moans reverence as your cunt parts around him, sucking him in.  “You’re perfect,” he breathes, relishing in the warmth of your smaller body. He aches to press his lips to yours as he worships at your altar, to confess his impure thoughts directly into the ears of his deity, but the size difference is too great. Instead, he finds absolution in the way your hips rock back to meet his languid thrusts, finds grace in each hitched breath or ragged whine. “So good,” Lorgar sighs, “so good…”

The keen that leaves your lips as you reach your peak drives him into religious ecstasy, rutting desperately into you when you clamp down around him. Ragged moans fill your ears, your husband’s thrusts becoming erratic before his hips give a final buck firmly into you– his final offering. Warmth pools within your belly as Lorgar’s cock throbs deep inside. The fluttering of your walls is a blessing as you milk him for all he’s worth, a close to your most sacred of rituals.

Lorgar shifts back to remove himself from you, and you beam up at your husband with a smile, admiring him with heavy eyelids. You’re quick to beckon him back down to cuddle with open arms. The sight causes Lorgar’s heart to swell, and he finds himself completely lost in you once again. His tiny little wife. His world. His stars. A goddess so willing to cleanse his soul and forgive his sins.

How can he be so condemning of himself when you invite him into your hallowed space like that?

[siilvan]

like real people do

characters: yuri

summary: after a mission goes badly, yuri comes to you to air out his frustrations, and what was a complicated situation ends up becoming something more.

genre: explicit, light angst, hurt/comfort, fem!reader (no desc.)

warnings: cursing, mentions of canon-typical violence, brief mentions of blood/injuries, friends w/ benefits situation, soft dom!yuri, slight possessive!yuri, oral (f!receiving), fingering, lil' hand kink, tattoos <3, unprotected piv, creampies, overstimulation, manhandling, praise, some references to religion, idk yuri's a simp, he's drowning in guilt and pussy

word count: 5.3k

note: this is going to get zero notes, but do i care? no. i'm writing for yuri and forcibly shoving him in everyone's faces until people love him. he's my favorite character and that is going to be VERY obvious here. i have more fics planned. so many. everyone thank @froglights-and-pearls for reminding me of who i am.

aaaand a big thank you to @sofasoap for proofreading this <33

"well, that was a fuckin' bust, yeah?" soap comments after collapsing into a seat, earning pointed looks from the rest of the group as you all boarded the transport helicopter.

gaz slumps down next to him and exhales heavily, shaking his head. "think that's putting it lightly, mate." he chuckles, tapping soap on the shoulder.

ghost takes a seat on soap's other side, rolling his neck to stretch out sore muscles - he took a nasty hit during the mission, his mask partially torn on the cheek and revealing bloodstained skin. you end up sandwiched between price and yuri, tilting your head back to rest against the wall as the adrenaline coursing through you dissipates.

to say that this operation went horribly would be an understatement. you all managed to escape with your lives intact, but the valuable cargo that you were hunting down was lost. you fought to get this lead in the first place, and now you're returning to base with nothing to show for your work other than damaged bodies and morale.

your head rolls to the side, and you end up staring at yuri's side profile. he's hunched forward slightly, a pensive look on his face, brows knitted together from clear frustration.

it’s been a few months since nikolai introduced yuri to the team. after laswell brought up makarov in that chicago bar, everything seemed to move at the speed of light; the invasion of al-mazrah, calling a ceasefire with shadow company, teaming up with farah's forces, mobilizing again before you could even catch your breath... the only good thing to come out of this hectic situation was your newest ally.

yuri was an interesting case from the start. nikolai claims that the two go way back and, after hearing the way he talked about the man prior to your first meeting, you're inclined to believe him when he describes yuri as "one of his best."

his status as a member of nikolai's faction is enough to pique your curiosity - you find out that he's ex-spetsnaz as well, but what catches the entire squad's attention is the offhand comment that the pilot makes.

"he's the only person i know that hates makarov more than you, price."

none of you get the chance to ask him to elaborate, and you've since reached the point where his explanation doesn't matter. yuri fit into the team fairly easily, and trust was quickly built upon after a few missions together. he seemed to understand the enemy just as well as the captain, if not even better. soap made a joke about yuri knowing him a little too well at one point, which he brushed off with a dismissive shake of his head.

the sergeants were the first ones to warm up to him, with price and yourself on their heels. ghost, always wary of anyone new, is a little slower to trust, but after yuri took a bullet in the leg for him, ghost was quick to welcome him into your group.

your lips twitch into a tired smile when yuri glances at you from the corner of his eye, his shoulders dropping slightly upon seeing your face. his hardened expression softens for just a moment, and you mentally celebrate the small victory while nudging his foot closest to you with the side of your boot.

the ride back to base is mostly quiet, save for price updating laswell on the situation over the radio. you're all dejected over the loss, even after price reminds you to not let it get to your heads.

yuri seems especially upset over it, though. you doubt the rest of the team picks up on his mood, but it's clear as day to you.

you've spent a fair number of nights under the man, after all. you'd be ashamed if you couldn't read him by now. the subtle flexing of his fingers wrapped around his gun, the way his pupils dilate as he loses himself in his thoughts, the clench in his jaw - you recognize the signs faster than your own reflection in a mirror.

he's angry. pissed off, actually. yuri doesn't often let his emotions show, preferring to keep up a façade of cool collectedness, but it slips out on occasion.

and when it does, you catch it. you always do.

the chopper touches down on the airstrip eventually, and you relegate yourself to the back of the group as you step out onto the tarmac. price excuses himself to his office while ghost heads off to the medical bay, and the sergeants make a beeline for the showers as soon as their boots hit the ground.

you watch as yuri wordlessly sets off towards the training grounds. it's a habit he has: airing his grievances out on a target.

you, meanwhile, loosely trail behind the sergeants and hop in the shower, rinsing off the grime from the battlefield and willing the loss to wash away with it. you stop by the mess hall for a bit, running into a patched-up ghost, before heading off to your room.

the base that the task force is currently staying at is a bit odd compared to most, in that you have more privacy than normal. while most places offer you cramped barracks or small dorms, the team was given proper rooms in a separate wing. privileges, gaz joked upon your initial arrival.

you're left to your own devices until a while after the sun sets. there's a knock at the door that you almost immediately recognize. you've heard it before, always after night has fallen and the sky is blanketed in darkness.

you trudge across the room and swing the door open, revealing yuri standing on the other side. his gaze stays low, not quite looking at you, but not quite looking away, either. you instinctively move to the side, allowing him to step into the room. the door closes behind him with a soft click, leaving you staring at him as a silence hangs in the air between you.

"need something?" you ask, breaking the silence with a soft voice. his eyes finally flit up to meet yours. there's something swirling in those pale eyes of his, an internal conflict that you've never been able to understand or pull out of him.

"company," he mutters, and you know what he means from that single word.

"destroying a few more targets didn't help, huh?" you chuckle, coming to stand in front of him. you slowly slide your hands up his arms, skimming over his shoulders and cupping his jaw gently. "you look angry, yuri."

he huffs, warm air puffing against your cheek. you can smell the tobacco on his breath. he's been smoking, yet another habit that he tries to avoid showing, especially after you commented on it.

"the only thing that will help is you," he replies, hands settling on your waist. calloused fingertips carefully dig into your flesh underneath your clothes, pulling your body closer to his. "only you can make the anger go away." he adds, thumbs tracing gentle circles into your skin.

you hum, keening at the subtle praise. your palms slide down and press flat against his chest, his heartbeat thrumming strong under your fingertips. you two established a set of rules at the beginning of this arrangement, and you've both been rigid in keeping to them. no kissing, no marking, no "i love you's," no jealousy—

no feelings. this is purely for pleasure, for keeping each other sane outside the battlefield. feelings would only serve to complicate things, and you already have enough on your plates as-is. the rules of engagement were clear, though there were those rare times that the lines blurred.

such as yuri's lips dragging across your sensitive skin after his head drops to your neck. he wouldn't kiss you, he wouldn't suck or bite, but the featherlight trail that he would trace might as well be a mark of its own. you angle your head back, a low sigh falling from your lips. his heartbeat speeds up just barely under your touch, your own picking up speed to match.

you let him walk you backwards toward the bed, the backs of your knees pressing into the edge of the mattress. he lifts his head and leans in close to your ear, his next words mumbled against your skin.

"on your back."

you obey without complaint, pulling your hands away and crawling up the bed, laying on your back and propping yourself up on your elbows.

you watch as he stands at the foot of the bed, his eyes never straying from yours while he pulls off his gloves and drops them somewhere behind him. the gauntlet on his forearm goes next, and you stare with great intrigue as he easily undoes the straps holding it in place and tosses it aside, the hard material carelessly clattering against the carpet. your eyes fall from his, landing on the various tattoos that adorn his hands and forearms, the ink telling a story that you're sure would send your adrenaline rushing.

he sinks to his knees after a second, blunt nails digging into the plush of your thighs as he pulls your body across the duvet towards him. like clockwork, he slides your uniform pants and soaked underwear down your legs before grabbing your thighs and spreading them, leaving your core completely exposed under his heated gaze.

he doesn't give you a chance to blink as he dives in, hot tongue licking a stripe up your slit and sending your head flying back against the bed. you push your hips up towards his face as he laves over your folds, fucking dripping the second his eyes landed on you after showing up at your door, pulling a shameless moan from your lips.

contrary to his usual generosity, yuri entirely avoids your clit as he stuffs your cunt with his tongue, greedily lapping up your arousal before pulling back and making wide circles around the sensitive bud. he teases it with a small flick and dips his head to plunge into your sopping hole again, humming and sending vibrations coursing through you.

you whine, fisting the duvet and squeezing your eyes tightly shut. "fuck, yuri— stop teasing—"

he lifts his head from your cunt and groans, throaty and utterly debauched. "patience," he mutters, heaving one of your thighs over his shoulder and digging his fingers into your hip. "you know i'll take care of you."

you choke on a sob when he flattens his tongue against your clit, circling around it and drawing it into his mouth. he sucks on it before delving into your heat once more, his nose nudging the bundle of nerves and making your back arch off the mattress. the lewd sounds filling the room as he fucks you with his tongue light a fire under your skin, covering your body in a thin sheen of sweat as you moan and clamp your thighs around his head.

he moans into your cunt, hands gripping your thighs as his hips jolt forward, eating you out like a man starved.

"yuri— oh, fuck—" you gasp. "please, please— 'm so fucking close—" you're not sure what you're begging for, what you always end up begging for, but as the coil in your stomach tightens, you can't find it in yourself to think about it any longer.

your jaw goes slack, mouth falling open as his tongue swipes up your arousal, his nose pressing into your swollen clit and dragging a stuttering moan from your parted lips.

"oh my— fucking god... yuri—" you whimper as your cunt pulses and spasms around his tongue, gushing into his mouth with another moan of his name that bounces off the walls of the room. he groans into your wetness and eagerly laps it up, working you through your orgasm as you grind against his face, chasing the sweet pleasure.

after your legs go limp on his shoulders, yuri resurfaces from your cunt, hands massaging your thighs while your breaths come out in pants, chest heaving.

"just like that," he whispers, smearing your slick across your inner thigh as his lips drag across your skin. you look down at him, seeing his steely gaze already trained on your blissed-out expression. "you can give me another, hm?" he asks, brows briefly raising with the question.

his voice has dropped low, his russian accent thick and heavy, words slightly slurring together as he stares up at you. his pale irises are hardly visible around pupils blown wide with lust, and you swallow back a pathetic sound at the sight.

"you can give me another." yuri echoes, more as a statement of fact than a question this time. he knows he's right— you know he's right.

you suck in a breath as two fingers prod at your aching heat, sliding up and down your glistening folds and gathering a mixture of your slick and his saliva.

"fuck, just— please—"

your pleads are cut off by his fingers plunging into you, sinking right up to the knuckle and making you writhe against the bed. they're thick, stretching you open as he curls them inside you, scraping against your gummy walls and teasing that spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back in your skull.

a third digit prods at your entrance after a moment, leaving you moaning and frantically searching for purchase on the bedsheets after he adds it in, pumping three fingers inside you.

"taking me so well..." he grunts, pressing his thumb to your puffy clit and circling it in tight, fast motions.

you buck your hips into his touch, legs shaking as your cunt clenches around his digits like a vice. his unoccupied hand releases your thigh and skates up your side, wrapping around your wrist and distracting you from his ministrations for a second.

he suddenly yanks you towards him, making you sit up and stoop over him. one of your hands lands on his shoulder, holding yourself upright as he continues fucking his fingers into you.

"look at yourself— look at how good you're doing for me." yuri sighs, holding your wrist tight to keep you from falling back. you whine, forcing yourself to tilt your head and stare at where his fingers disappear inside you.

the noises coming from the spot are obscene, lewd squelches accompanying every thrust in and out of your dripping core. you admire your own mess until your attention shifts to him— his fingers, his hand, working you open and sending you to cloud nine.

you've been horribly attracted to his hands ever since he first touched you with them. they're calloused, rough, experienced like you'd expect from someone in the field; but, the ink adorning his skin is what catches your eye. there's crosses on his fingers— holy symbols— and you watch as they drip with your arousal, black ink shining with the wetness coating them and dripping down his wrist.

it feels sinful, like you're fucking in the pews of a church. the rush of it makes your body grow hotter, heat flooding to your cheeks as you bite back a moan.

"take off your shirt." he says, eyes fixated on your drooling cunt.

you manage to tear your hand from his shoulder and slip your shirt over your head, your bra quickly following suit and landing in another small pile of clothes somewhere nearby. yuri's gaze flits up and lands on your breasts, a groan rumbling deep in his chest.

he mumbles something in russian before leaning in, drawing his tongue across one of your nipples and taking it into his mouth. you moan as he greedily sucks on it, your hand cradling the back of his head and holding him close.

it's risky— you two are toeing the line, pushing the rules you established at the start of this relationship.

he moves to your other nipple a moment later and lavishes it with the same treatment, reducing you to a needy, whiny mess. by the time he pulls back from your breasts with a wet pop, there's dark hickeys left in his place.

that's a rule broken.

his head dips back down and his mouth replaces his thumb, hot tongue swirling around your clit as you're suddenly brought back to the present with a loud moan. his hand squeezes around your wrist, reminding you that he only let go long enough for you to strip off the remainder of your clothes. you twist your arm, forcing him to loosen his grip—

he places a few more licks to your clit before wrapping his lips around it, and you moan as the vibrations bring you closer to your second orgasm of the night. you escape his hold only to search for his hand, blindly reaching for it as the pleasure forces you to screw your eyes shut. you fumble after finally finding it, but yuri's quick to help, interlocking your fingers and allowing you to squeeze his hand in a near-death grip.

fuck, this is getting too intimate. he's already broken one rule, and you're just about ready to break the rest. he mirrors your action, holding your hand as you teeter over the edge, your orgasm rapidly approaching.

"so close— 'm so close, yuri. fuck, please—!" you moan, trembling like a leaf in the wind as your orgasm slams into you.

he pumps faster still, letting you ride out the waves of pure bliss until you're whimpering and attempting to move your hips away. yuri lifts his head and hunts for your gaze, locking eyes with you as you hazily look down at him. he pulls his fingers from your folds and hums, satisfied, before pressing them to your lips and cocking his head to the side.

you know what he wants. you take his fingers into your mouth and lave your tongue over them, tasting yourself as you clean your release off of them. he watches you, shifting as his other hand releases yours and reaches for his belt.

"tastes fucking heavenly." he utters softly, sending a shiver down your spine.

he pulls his fingers out and chuckles at your pout, before nodding at the pillows behind you. "get comfortable. we're not done yet."

he sits up on his knees and starts to unbuckle his belt as your tongue darts out to wet your lips. instead of climbing up the bed, however, you reach out and start pawing at his shirt, tugging at it with a small noise of complaint.

yuri lets you undress him, a quiet sigh escaping him as your nails gently scrape down his chest and stomach, trailing over rigid muscle and old scars that he hesitated to tell the stories behind and often disregarded whenever you'd ask about them. you toy with the waistband of his cargos, earning an amused huff and yuri pulling your hands back.

"lay back," he commands in a warm tone, lips twitching into a small smile. "let me take care of you."

your gaze narrows at him, but you comply nonetheless. "thought you came to me for stress relief, not spoiling me."

you hear fabric hitting the floor before he's moving on top of you, caging you in with his hands on either side of your body. "spoiling you helps relieve my stress." he replies, giving you a look as if what he said was an obvious fact.

"lucky me, then." you laugh before cutting yourself off with a sharp inhale as the head of his cock prods at your entrance, dragging through your folds and coating itself in your arousal. his cock sits heavy against your core, a firm weight grounding you in the moment.

yuri grips the base of his shaft in one hand as the other rests next to your head, a tight fist in the sheets. you raise your hips slightly and let out a whine, lifting your arms to grasp at his shoulders as his cock slowly pushes in. a deep groan escapes him as he sinks deeper and deeper inside, your gummy walls fluttering and pulsing around him.

"fuck," he rasps, bottoming out with one final push. "missed this— it's been too long. needed you under me days ago."

you breathe out a moan, tossing your head back against the pillows when he dips down to your neck, panting against your feverish skin. he pulls out, dragging back until the tip just barely slips past your entrance, before snapping his hips forward and burying himself to the hilt.

you're already fighting back a sob as he sets a brutal pace, bullying his cock into your aching cunt, your hands clinging to him anywhere you can find purchase. his shoulders, back, arms— your nails dig into his skin, leaving angry crescent-shaped marks wherever they land. the bedframe creaks under your shared weights, headboard knocking against the wall with each pointed thrust.

after seconds of searching, your hands end up sliding up to his jaw, and you nudge him until he moves from your neck, his face hovering just above yours. your fingertips trace over his jawline tenderly as his forehead comes to rest against yours, your breaths co-mingling. it's too much. you manage to catch his gaze, eyes locking while the tips of your noses brush together. it's not enough.

"what are you doing?" yuri whispers, voice hoarse. he doesn't make any move to pull away; he seems to soften under your touch, if anything.

fuck it.

you surge forward, closing the small gap between you. his movements almost immediately stall once your lips connect and, for a split second, complete terror floods through your veins as the severity of the act hits you.

his hand flies to your face, cupping your cheek and holding you in place as he deepens the kiss with a quiet moan. you squirm under him, your hips pinned to the mattress and flush with his, impatiently seeking out more.

more stimulation, more pleasure, more him.

"we shouldn't be doing this," he mutters against your lips after prying himself away. "the— the agreement—" he adds, though the words die on his tongue as he kisses you again, hungry, like he's been starving up until this point. you try your best to keep up, even as the sheer possessiveness of the kiss easily steals all the air from your lungs.

you break from the kiss only when you're forced to, taking staggering breaths while his hand leaves your face and trails down your side slowly, landing on your thigh once more. he kneads the flesh before pulling your leg to wrap around his waist, allowing his cock to push in that much deeper.

"you deserve better than this." yuri says, pressing his forehead to yours.

with an airy chuckle, you shake your head. "i want you—"

yuri lets out a sound akin to a whimper and a moan, his iron grip on you only tightening when you roll your hips into his. "i'm not— hah, fuck— you feel like heaven… i'm not worth it. i don't deserve it."

you shush him softly, thumbs stroking along his cheeks as you press your lips to his. "let me give you a little peace." you murmur, letting out another heady moan after he starts rocking into you again, his cockhead brushing against that spongy spot inside you that has your back arching off the mattress.

"i only know peace with you in my arms." he replies with a choked sigh. the pressure in the pit of your stomach rapidly builds - between his words and his cock practically rearranging your guts to fit itself deeper inside, you're rendered little more than a breathless, desperate mess pinned underneath him.

it doesn't take much longer for you to reach your peak, barely having the chance to give proper warning before it's washing over you.

"fuck, m'gonna cum—!" you cry, fat tears gathering at your waterline and threatening to spill over.

yuri groans, gravelly, drowning in his own pleasure. "that's it, just come undone for me... show me how good you feel— how good i make you feel." his voice drops, a near-growl lacing his words by the end of the command.

"please, любимая— i need it, i need to feel you..." he says against your lips. "you can do it, i know you can, just one more for me."

that's all it takes to send your next orgasm crashing over you, your legs shaking and mouth falling open in a broken moan of his name. he keeps fucking you through it, hands grasping and kneading at your soft skin hard enough to bruise in the morning, pressing his body flush to yours as he chases his own release.

"good, good... i knew you could do it, my good girl," yuri utters, thrusting sloppily into your heat. "almost there— going to fill you up, nice and full— you've been so good, done so well for me. so proud of you."

he finishes with a guttural moan, pressing impossibly closer to you as warmth floods your insides, some of his cum spilling out of your overworked cunt as he gives a couple more thrusts before stilling, both of you breathing heavily. you stay there for a few seconds, yuri's hands running over your flushed skin as yours run along his shoulders and back, silently basking in the moment.

"i don't deserve you," he says, voice quiet as he kisses a small trail to your ear.

you trace abstract shapes into his skin, smiling to yourself at the way he leans into your touch. "we wouldn't be in this position if you didn't," you angle your head and pepper the side of his jaw with chaste kisses. "we are really bad at following our own rules, though." you add with a chuckle.

he hums, agreeing, and pulls back enough to look down at you. a beat passes before your spent pussy throbs, feeling his half-softened cock start to harden again.

"just one more?" he asks, watching intently as your eyelids droop at the sensation.

"no, yuri— i can't—"

"you can, you've done it before." he reassures you, capturing your lips in a brief, but sweet kiss. "just one more, okay? i promise, just one."

he sits up and drags you along with him, sliding out of your cum-soaked cunt and turning your tired body over as you whine and grumble about it. your front is laid flat against the pillows and your hips propped up, his hands massaging them while he shushes you gently.

yuri presses into you again, his cock sliding past your folds with little resistance and nestling deep inside you with a single push. you whimper from the overstimulation, clit throbbing and legs shaking as you try to hold yourself up.

all it takes to make you moan and bury your face in the pillow is a sharp thrust, his pelvis slamming against the backs of your thighs as he starts a pace you weren't at all expecting. how does he still have so much fucking energy?

"see? i told you— my good girl, my perfect girl, you can give me another one." he muses, rutting into you and savoring each lewd sound that leaves your mouth and soaking wet cunt.

"i can't— 's too much, yuri—" you sob, tears finally spilling over and streaking down your cheeks as he tugs you closer, your tired body sliding up the mattress every time he slams back into you. "please, 'm gonna fall— too weak, too much—" you babble between sniffles and ragged gasps, fisting the bedsheets.

one of his arms circles around your middle and pulls you back, forcing you to sit up on your knees as he holds you to his chest. your head falls forward almost immediately, struggling to keep upright, and his free hand wraps around your throat, carefully but firmly moving your head to rest against his shoulder. he's not choking you, he's not even applying enough pressure to affect your airflow, but it made your breath hitch nonetheless.

"you can take it. just one more, just cum for me one more time," yuri says, dipping his head to press wet, sloppy kisses to your shoulder and neck. "my perfect girl, my sweet fucking girl— want to fill you up, милая. make you drip with me." you wince when his teeth sink in to your skin, leaving painful marks that he soothes with a lick and another kiss, before sucking dark hickeys wherever his mouth can reach.

you frantically grab onto his arms for stability, laying your head back on his shoulder as his hand leaves your neck and travels down your front. it lightly skims over your bruised nipples and makes you shiver, before sliding down your stomach and reaching your clit. he settles two fingers on it, grunting against your pulse as your abused walls clamp down around his length like a vice.

you're dizzy, head spinning as you feel your climax approaching, the pleasure coiling deep in your stomach and causing you to cling to him that much harder.

"yuri... i'm gonna— fuck, please, i wanna cum—"

"i know, i know—" yuri buries his face in the crook of your neck, biting down to muffle the animalistic sounds pouring from his lips. "cum for me, just one more. you can rest after, i'll take care of you, just give me one more—"

you break with a sob, his name falling from your lips like some kind of mantra as your cunt gushes and spasms around his cock.

your body might as well be boneless with how much you're trembling, held up entirely by yuri's arms around you and his own body supporting you. true to his word, he lays you down again, your upper half limply resting on the bed as he grinds into you, barely pulling out before slamming back in.

his pace is frantic, uneven, as he literally fucks you into the mattress, and you don't even have the energy to help him get off like you want to. all you can do is moan and look at him with half-lidded, glassy eyes from over your shoulder, watching as he nears his own peak.

"please, want it inside... please, yuri—" the words slip out, almost inaudible over the sounds of your shared panting, the bed creaking, and the arrhythmic knocking of the headboard against the wall. you'd pity whoever has the room adjacent, if you could even remember any names other than yuri's.

your begging seems to be what finally sends him over the edge, his cum spilling into you again as he lets out a broken moan and a string of curses in russian, your slick walls fluttering around him and trying to milk his cock for everything it has.

he nearly collapses on top of you after a few more thrusts, his body falling in line with yours as he lets some of his weight rest on you. you're both spent, taking in greedy gasps of air as you gradually come down from your highs.

yuri's the first to move, pulling his cock out of you and shifting to hover just above your body, his upper half still comfortably pressing into yours. a gentle hand runs along your side as he peppers your shoulders and the back of your neck with tender kisses, his warm breath fanning over you.

"we, um..." you clear your throat upon hearing the hoarse tone. "we're screwed, aren't we?"

he chuckles, leaning in to kiss the spot below your ear. "yes, we are."

"i think i prefer it this way."

"so do i."

translations:

любимая (liubimaya) - my love/beloved

милая (milaya) - dear/darling

taglist: @sofasoap

[watching-sam-and-dean-again]

Watching a reactor on YouTube who just got to Season 4: Lazarus Rising, and I’m so annoyed by the amount of comments with people saying things like, "this is when the series REALLY starts" and "Seasons 1-3 were the prologue, now The Story begins" and "I’ve been waiting for you to meet my favorite character!"

First, I will never be able to understand Castiel being someone's legitimate favorite character. I just don’t get it. He starts off as a massive dick, becomes an ally, uses and betrays both brothers a number of times, rarely takes full responsibility for his actions, and ends up as a totally different and neutered version of himself. But this guy is your favorite!? The only reason I think a large number of fans who love him do is because he comes in the gate treating Sam like crap and he becomes a simp for Dean (or they are shippers). Also, if someone is a more casual fan, I can see enjoying Cass because he’s quirky and he mostly stands up for the Winchesters, but if someone is a big fan of the brothers, Cass makes their lives harder a lot of the time. Also, I’m coming to really hate the fact that the dude is always in a trench coat. How am I supposed to take a character seriously who is essentially like an unchanging cartoon character come to life? Anyway, despite how it might sound from my ranting, I actually do think people are allowed to love whatever character they want, but it just doesn’t compute for me personally that it’s Cass as he is on screen (not in someone’s head).

Next, the idea of people calling the first three seasons "The Prologue" to supernatural is offensive to me personally (well, not offensive but it’s dumb as hell). A prologue is used to give some important background that should be known for you to better understand the main story, but it happened before, or doesn’t quite fit into, the main narrative. I’m sorry, but the first three seasons of Supernatural are the foundation that everything builds off of, and maybe I’m splitting hairs here, but it’s not just the set up to the Real Story. The Real Story of Supernatural has always been and will always be "the epic love story of Sam and Dean," not the angel crap. Calling the basis of the whole show the prologue has an implied message that it’s not as important as, or connected to the rest of the story. Again, people are allowed to have their own opinions about what they enjoy in media, but this idea that what came before Season 4 wasn’t as important as the rest of the show is actually bad media literacy, especially when you consider how much retconning and inconsistency later seasons have (*cough* John Winchester, for exapmle). The early seasons are Supernatural at its most pure, and if you don’t like or care about Sam and Dean's story, what are you doing here?

I was going to go on by listing all of the important things that we learn about Sam and Dean's characters and relationship in the first three seasons, but honesty, I’m tired. If you’re reading my post, I’m sure you already know. True fans of the show, even if seasons 1 to 3 aren’t their favorite, know how important these seasons are. Frankly, if someone claims that they don’t matter as much as the later season, then I’m going to assume that they are probably a heller (and I’m probably right), thus their opinions on the show don’t matter.

Speaking of Hellers, they are the Jehovah’s Witnesses of fandom. They descend on your doorstep (YouTube video, blog post, etc), uninvited and unwelcome, to make you uncomfortable by forcing their literature (head-canons and subtext) on you in a vain attempt to make you convert to their twisted version of a cult religion (Destiel). Some get indoctrinated into their cult, others consider them a joke, and yet others are driven to madness by the constant hounding of the hellers. I wish they would just stay in their lane and let people come to their own conclusions about the show and the characters, but they try to gatekeep the fandom experience by jumping on anyone new and telling them how they are the "most popular ship" and that supernatural queerbaits, but Dean and Cass are still totes husbands, and there is some other guy there, too but Sam is just some jerk who isn’t as important as Wuwu Dean and their Little Meow Meow Cass. If somone actually sees and enjoys Destiel on their own, great, good for them; they’ll find the blogs and groups who love it too. Hellers don’t need to try actively recruiting people. It’s all just a numbers gone to them. We have the most fanfic (um, yes, because the show doesn’t deliver what you want), we are the most popular ship (sure, because the other main ship is brothers which squicks some people out, and because you crucify anyone who admits to being a Wincest shipper), and they tell the stupidest lies (the show shifts away from being about the brothers, and focusses more on Dean and Cass' "relationship," and Sam isn’t as important to the story later). I wish they would just stay in their own sandbox and not come pee in everyone else's. Cult like behavior in action.

Okay, deep breaths. I’m grad I got that one off of my chest, but my blog is getting very ranty. I’m going to try make sure my next post is a positive one.

Happy weekend everyone!

[infinite-orangepeel]

CW: perv!virgin!eddie/camboy!steve, virginity kink, degradation/humiliation, eddie’s lowkey a creep (again), dirty talk, steve’s dick is tiny lol, religious imagery in a sexual context (brief)

thinking about virgin!loser!simp! eddie who gets zero action and has never been touched by anyone else’s hands but his own.

thinking about him rushing home from work each night to make it on time for steve’s camboy livestream.

he speeds, runs a red light or two. doesn’t pause to consider the consequences bc who the fuck cares? his cock strains against the zipper of his jeans bc he only has one thing on his mind and it’s certainly not avoiding run ins with the law.

“can’t wait to fuck you, pretty boy,” he whimpers as he turns left.

he doesn’t know the object of his affection’s real name, of course. only his username which is @prettyboy86. these days, eddie only ever cums with that name on his lips.

fuck, he’s sick in the head.

eddie’s getting more pathetic and whiny by the minute. he makes tiny little thrusts against the inner seam of his jeans to try to find some form of friction. though he has no intention of getting off before he watches steve’s show.

the zipper makes it painful and pinches the head of his weepy dick but it’s better than nothing. somehow he keeps his hands on the wheel and doesn’t get in a multi-car pile-up. somehow.

he’s so desperately in love with this boy he’s never even met, this boy who has no idea that eddie munson exists.

and to an extent, that’s part of the allure. pretty boy’s powerful. he commands an audience of thousands. people from all over the world pay $25/month just to eye a piece of him.

he never shows his face, but sometimes he’ll suck on a dildo and his lips will be visible in the shot. they’re usually slicked with sparkly lipgloss and look like they’d taste like candy.

eddie knows he must be beautiful though if the rest of his body is any indication. he’s an angel, he’s a saint. eddie worships him, prays to him with a level of devotion he’s never been able to find in organized religion.

once in the driveway of his uncle’s place, eddie throws his van in park, grabs the keys, and makes a mad dash for his bedroom. locks the door behind him as is tradition, cracks open a PBR, and logs onto his laptop.

pretty boy’s site is bookmarked, favorited, and left open in a tab from last night.

eddie navigates to the livestream waiting room and moments later, steve settles onto his haunches onscreen.

a flood of messages from similar admirers clogs up the chat quickly as eddie starts in on his own barrage of thirsty compliments:

@ethebanished: looking so cute tonight, pretty boy. i’d do anything to have your cock in my mouth.

there’s no response. steve’s not even looking at the camera or the screen. he’s adjusting something on his lower half that eddie can’t see.

maybe a cock ring or vibrating toy??

eddie’s bought him so many toys from his personalized wishlist and the one time steve took the clear glittery dildo on camera, he came in his pants instantly. didn’t even have time to stroke his cock once.

it felt intimate. it felt like steve was sending him a message, confessing his mutual love.

eddie sends a few more messages while steve holds up a finger to the audience to let them know he needs a second.

he types rapidly, without though, follows his depraved intentions and lets them run wild into the ether.

@ethebanished: i’ve been watching you since the beginning. i can’t cum to anyone else’s videos. did you know that?? you’re so special, pretty boy. no one else takes cock like you. i’d treat you so well. i’d never let you go, i swear. don’t waste time on the other boys.

@ethebanished: when i save up enough money, i’m gonna buy a custom video from you. i’m gonna make you say my name while you fuck yourself on the dildo i bought you. it’s the clear one with glitter. how does that sound?? would you like that baby?? like some dirty stranger making you cum for him?? i’m saving my virginity for you. waiting for you every day. one day we’ll fuck and you’ll thank me.

@ethebanished: i had to jack off in the storage room at work this morning. almost got caught by my manager but it was worth it. woke up so horny from a wet dream about you. you’re perfect. i have to fuck you. have to.

steve smiles. professionally whitened teeth blinding the camera. eddie convinces himself easily that it’s meant for him despite the thousands of other commenters.

he and steve have something special. sure, they’ve never directly interacted, but if they do—when they do—steve won’t be able to resist eddie’s charms.

“sorry for the delay, everyone. we had a few technical difficulties but thanks to my friend, tommy, we should be all set.”

tommy is the bane of eddie’s existence. public enemy #1. steve’s always running his mouth about “owing credit to tommy” and how “the show wouldn’t be half of what it is without tommy’s support.”

apparently, he’s steve’s camera man, editor, and resident tech guy. but eddie’s worst nightmare is steve ever including tommy in a video or stream.

eddie fantasizes—often—about replacing tommy, himself. he’s got a bunch of editing experience, owns all the fancy software, and knows how to operate a camera. plus, he’d do it for free. he’d do it just to be in the same atmosphere as steve for a fraction of a second.

fuck, his dick is leaking all over his black denim. just another pair of jeans to toss out bc pretty boy’s caused him to stain them.

if pretty boy were here, in person, eddie would have lick them clean to prove his devotion.

his attention snaps back to the screen as steve starts talking again.

“i’ve been wanting to challenge myself, lately to get a bit more up close and personal with my fans,” steve sticks his tongue out slowly and flicks it in the direction of the camera, “y’know to show my appreciation. so if it’s okay with you, i’m going to try something new today.”

eddie’s curiosity sparks. warmth spreads through his thighs, abdomen, and chest.

steve’s speaking directly to him (in his mind) and with all those pretty moles on display, eddie’s free hand wanders to tease his own pierced nipples.

he tugs at them and swirls the buds with gentle fingers. his hips buck in response. he’s always been sensitive. knows he’d cum so easily, so constantly, if pretty boy touched him.

“so one of you sweet angels sent me this adorable teddy bear,” steve nibbles on the ears of the pink plushie and eddie’s instantly jealous of whoever sent it to him, “i love how soft and cute he is, don’t you? his fur just feels perfect on my skin.”

steve lightly grazes the fluff of the bear over his inner thighs as he backs up on the mattress to display his full body for the camera. glossed lips in view. eddie gasps sharply and bites down on his knuckles to muffle the sound. he doesn’t need his uncle to know what a fucking freak he is.

“ohhh. see, that’s nice,” steve’s naked except for—and this absolutely annihilates eddie on the spot—a delicate pink ribbon that he’s tied around the base of his wet cock and a pair of thigh-high white socks.

flesh spills over the tight band of the fabric and eddie yearns to feel the squeeze of those perfect muscles around his head.

“here’s how this is going to work—i’m going to fuck my plushie like a pillow while reading comments aloud from you guys. whoever’s comment makes me cum will get a free five-minute video call with me tomorrow night before the regular livestream begins. there’s only going to be one lucky winner so do your worst, angels,” steve giggle to himself and tightens the bow on his dick, “let the games begin.”

“fuck,” eddie murmurs as he realizes how high the stakes are, “fuck. i have to win.”

the chat ramps up with lust and thrill as the audience observes steve taking the medium-sized plushie to the center of his bed. he fondles his balls, waves at the camera, and straddles the pink bear. his cock twitches in the confines of his ribbon and eddie wonders if it’s real silk. what it might feel like.

“bet you can’t wait to see my little cunt squirt on live, can you? poor teddy isn’t going to knows what’s hit him,” steve strokes the cheek of the bear apologetically and begins slowly rutting, “let’s see if he can handle me.”

it’s important to mention that pretty boy’s cock is small and that this appeals to eddie like nothing else.

eddie’s not huge, himself, but in terms of girth and length—he’s slightly above average. on the other hand, pretty boy’s dick is about three and a half inches hard. his balls are tucked right up against his body and he’s always well groomed. he’s muscular. clearly works out. has toned abs, large biceps (much larger than eddie’s), toned thighs and calves, and his ass is round like a summer peach.

eddie thinks it would taste even better on his tongue.

steve’s a seasoned professional which means he knows damn well how to put on a show. he arches his back expertly, tugs at the long brown tendrils of hair that dip towards his collarbones, and moans wantonly.

“okay—@yourgayestfantasy765 says, ‘pretty boy, you’re so fucking hot,’” steve smirks, fucks his teddy slow and precise, takes his time, “that’s so sweet. thank you!”

his words are kind, but his tone is bored and bone dry. the fact is he reads hundreds of comments like this all the time. it’s nothing new, doesn’t catch him off guard. his hips roll into the plushie’s tummy without stuttering.

it’s hard to concentrate, but eddie’s determined to stand out. racks his brain for something interesting to comment. something that will catch pretty boy’s attention.

he has to be the one to make steve cum. he has to win that five-minute video call. it would change his life to have that chance conversation with the love of his life. the only person he’s ever really wanted.

maybe he’d finally get out of bumfuck, indiana. maybe he’d finally lose his virginity and film videos with pretty boy all the time once he got some tangible experience under his—currently—un-notched belt.

eddie spies the signature tramp stamp—a row of three butterflies—between the dimples above the swell of his ass. he’s spent many long showers with his cock in his hands as he imagines sinking his teeth into that exact spot.

steve rambles off a few more copycat, lack luster comments as eddie types. he theatrically yawns midway through one to show his disinterest. the bear looks equally unimpressed below him.

“aw. you think i have a pretty cock? thank you so much, @daddydicklvr!” he blows a kiss, “but i think you can do better than that.”

eddie’s nervous. he wants this so badly. his palms are clammy. there’s chip crumbs littering the keys of his computer and it occurs to him that he should probably clean up the place when pretty boy inevitably comes over for a date.

he presses send.

“hmm—oh i recognize this username! you’ve been a longtime subscriber, haven’t you ethebanished? let’s read your comment,” pretty boy smiles genuinely and slows his movements to read, licking over his lips carefully, “‘this is going to sound crazy but sometimes i think i’m actually falling in love with you even though i’ve never met you. you’re amazing.’”

the rest of the audience immediatley thumbs down eddie’s message. the replies are even worse:

@kissmyaxx7: fuck off the stream, perv!

@nottaken_: guy thinks he really has a chance lmfao. pretty boy doesn’t date fans. you must be new here.

@titsandtats: smells desperate af in here…

@yoyostar6000: are u even trying to make him cum?

he cringes inwardly, worries he’s royally fucked up his chances, and hovers over the ‘x’ on the tab to click off.

but as he moves the mouse, pretty boy moans high in his throat and eddie finds him shivering with pleasure. his own cock jumps at the sight and suddenly he’s back in action, stroking himself from root to tip as he waits.

“in love with me, huh? i can work with that. tell me more, @ethebanished, i’m listening.”

steve’s a fucking temptress, sucks on his fingers as his thighs start to shake from effort. he’s sloppy with it—shows off his missing gag reflex and doesn’t clean up the spit the dribbles down his chest.

eddie can’t look away. doesn’t want to. his body is on fire with want and he types furiously one-handed:

@ethebanished: idk…it’s everything about u. ur smile, ur voice, ur cute little cock, ur attitude. i just feel like we’d get along great.

other audience members try to compete for steve’s attention, but he ignores them. lets their comments disappear into the chat as he reads eddie’s aloud.

“oh i’m sure you say that to all the girls and boys, cutie. there’s probably a line at your door right now,” steve’s dick is milky at the tip and he’s pressing it between his tummy and the bear. ends of the ribbon peeking out.

eddie sucks in a breath. pulls hard on each nipple for….confidence?? he can’t believe he’s about to admit this to the hottest guy he’s ever seen.

send.

@ethebanished: not quite. i’m a virgin. never had sex before let alone a boyfriend :/

pretty boy’s face—or, what eddie can see of it—lights up at that. his grin widens, reaching around to toy with his rim while he thrusts faster.

“holy shit. i gotta admit that’s hot—ah.”

eddie responds quickly:

@ethebanished: thx. no one else seems to think so. i’m kinda a loser but i promise i’d be so good to you. i’d do whatever you asked of me. idc. only have eyes for you.

steve’s little cock rabbits forwards. he pins the teddy with one hand and edges one finger into his ass with the other.

“fuck. i wish this was your cock, @ethebanished. my fingers just won’t do. i bet you’d be all messy your first time. probably cum inside me before you’d even gotten two inches in,” he whines—going deeper into the fantasy, “i’m mean, though, baby. i’d trap you inside me. i’d ride you until you begged me to stop, honey and then i’d suck you dry. how’s that sound, perv? you wanna stretch my cute cunt on your cock? i’ll teach you how to be a good boy with my pussy.”

pretty boy sticks a second finger in his ass and his balls smush against the fuzzy leg of the teddy as he grinds. his hips move in tight clockwise circles. humping the plushie with primal desire.

what eddie would do to have him rut on his face in the exact same way—

eddie’s getting close. he’s thumbing his cockhead roughly and biting down hard on the hem of his shirt. it’s almost painful to be this turned on. if he doesn’t cum soon he might just pass out or implode.

he sends one final message before he spills onto his hand and keyboard:

@ethebanished: so you gonna make me your bitch or what??

“@ethebanished says—oh fuck my pussy’s so wet, i’m not gonna last—he says—ah—oh my god,” steve shakes, groans like he’s been mortally wounded, and shoots cum all over the body of the pink plushie, “fuck yes—yes—be my bitch. gonna fucking ruin you, sweetie.”

steve humps himself through the rest of his orgasm and slowly withdraws his fingers. the little silk ribbon is somehow still attached at the base of his cock but it’s drenched. he unties it and licks his own release from the soft pink fabric.

eddie’s brain is fried. he’s still horny. he’ll likely jack of at least twice more before bed to prerecorded videos of pretty boy but he’s content.

he won.

he has a chance.

pretty boy smiles into the camera, kisses the lens with pink gloss as is his trademarked move, and squeezes the soggy teddy to his chest.

“alright that’s all i’ve got in me for tonight. but congrats to my horny little virgin @ethebanished. teddy and i look forward to meeting you on our call tomorrow! i’ll dm you the link. everyone else, good luck next time and have a slutty saturday! mwah.”

the livestream ends, eddie can hardly breathe, and his uncle knocks on the door.

“eddie, dinner’s ready! i made lasagna!”

instinctively he covers up his body.

“be out in a second! i’m—i’m working on a song!” he yells back and then pulls up a pre-downloaded video of pretty boy to prepare for his big day tomorrow.

THE END.

taglist (message me to be added or removed at any time <3): @estrellami-1, @disastardly, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @the-redthread, @asbealthgn, @bestofbucky, @shrimply-a-menace, @vampireinthesun, @carlyv, @lordrrascal , @jjoesjonas , @malachitedevil , @anxiouseds, @feraleddiekinninghours, @gay-little-bitch, @jhrc666, @pinkdaisies98, @mcneen, @perseus-notjackson, @eiddets, @corroded-coffin-groupie, @three-possums-playing-human, @stevesbipanic, @plutoshelm, @arkenstoned, @indiearr, @they-reap-what-we-sow, @gleek4twd

[to-thelakes]

I feel like Luke could also call them baby girl (ik its Morgan's thing but imagine Luke saying it) or pretty girl

Also think about Luke worshipping reader. Like full on having notes in his phone or on paper with favorite foods, flowers, music. Everything! And also just nsfw worshipping obviously

i love the idea of him calling his partner 'pretty girl' that would actually have me weak at the knees. and i do actually kind of see 'baby girl' as being something he would say but derek saying it is so ingrained in my head that it is hard to really see it any other way, if that makes sense? but i absolutely see it

and now... the worshipping, oh. my. god. he would worship his partner, it would be beautiful. here's just some thots;

SFW

starting with the safe for work things, he is very very sweet, like he has a couple of notes in his phone full of lists, lists of your favourite foods, stuff that you have mentioned that you want and present ideas, date ideas, so many things

also, we know that luke usually cannot cook for shit but he would absolutely learn for his partner, he wants to be able to cook their favourite things and give them the perfect date nights

like, he is downbad for his partner and it's honestly a little embarassing

but he would also constantly give them little kisses on the cheek/forehead etc. and he would get blankets to wrap them up if they were cold

i also would say that this is NOT one-sided like worshipping because his partner would absolutely be the same

like they would be a tooth-rottingly cute couple, constantly talking about each other, bigging up their achievements, lists and notes about things to do, constant text messages

aND luke would always get a postcard for his partner from the places he went for work, sometimes they'd be blank, sometimes he'd write to them if it was a hard case and then they'd be given to his partner whenever he got back

like they are on his mind 24/7 and they would get constantly praised, CONSTANTLY

NSFW

now, the nsfw worshipping... well

he is a giver

luke alvez is a giver and i will take no criticism on this

he would literally settle between your legs and stay there for fucking hours if you would let him

like he would want you to cum before him and as many times as you'd let him, like he absolutely is a giver and the whole time he is between your legs, he is fucking praising you constantly

he wants you to know how pretty you are, how beautiful you are, how much he loves you letting him do this, literally the most filthy shit would come out of his mouth and he would just have you folding in seconds for him

he is also just very skilled with his mouth, he would kiss you everywhere and he can do magical things with his tongue, whether he's kissing you, he's between your legs or he's kissing your body, he's so fucking good at it

and he does in fact kiss everywhere, not a single part of your skin is left untouched by his lips (within your boundaries obviously) and the whole time he is telling you how perfect and beautiful you are

okay and also, if you have stretch marks/scars/marks that you don't like, he will give them special love

like if you have stretch marks on your belly, he will press kisses across them and tell you how you are breah-taking and the marks on your skin don't change that, whether you have them or not, he would absolutely adore you either way

luke just wants you to know how perfect you are and he would make sure before he got his own release, you were feeling so loved and worshipped

i feel like false god by miss swift is very luke-coded in this situation like "Religion's in your lips / Even if it's a false god / We'd still worship / We might just get away with it / The altar is my hips / Even if it's a false god / We'd still worship this love"

like luke would just absolutely worship at your feet and he is a fucking simp for doing it but he loves it

and even when he inside you, he's still constantly praising you, telling you how perfect you fit around him, how perfect you are and how much he loves you

and if you ride him? oh. this man. he is seeing heaven, he is gone, like he would praise you even more,

this has just turned into me rambling about luke & a praise kink but... he would play into it if you had one and he would fucking worship every part of you while praising you endlessly

this man loves his partner, nobody can change my mind

im a whore for luke alvez, that's all.

[simpingland]

Wolfs and dragons, both have claws and teeth // Aemond Targaryen x Stark!preg!oc

Aemond aims to be a legendary Targaryan, but his wife Evanna founds more amusing his new interest on becoming the father of a legend. But traumas exist and pregnancies can feel like centuries.

Oc and Aemond are BFF but won't admit it, they also fall in love very subtly and Aemond is such a quiet simp for Oc.

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Aemond was a good father, but a quiet one. That was Evanna's first observation when he aproach the baby. She had fear he wouldn't appear until need it. Her father barely dined with her or her siblings. So, why would the prince, the one obsess with training and who didn't even liked her, be different? Her mother, the former Lady Lannister, warmed her once, at least a child will make the unhappiness feel like a duty completed. Yes, she had given the crown a proper heir, or thats what she thought, before birthing a girl.

The marriage was arranged easily, the second daughter of Jason Lannister was to wed the third child of the King. Maybe that was the only time her father counted on her and to be rewarded by a men like Jason meant danger for Evanna. She loved her mother deeply, she stayed by her side for fourteen years. Her mother's name was Lyrra, a Stark, always the best storyteller in Casterly Rock, a northern woman by definition, a mother of three children, none of them with her brunette hair or grey eyes. But she could see the roots of herself on her little Evanna, always quiet, but noble and truthful, her eyes never lied and she wasn't able to keep a secret. But she was also feisty when she was angered, and sensible when needed. A child with a dignity that didn't suited her blonde locks. Mother and daughter longed for something more in their lives. She wanted to take her mother back to the north, to send her protection and company, she wanted Lyrra to be part of the family that recognised her talent and personality, she would do her duty to free her mother from her owns. But when she died on the labors of a future baby brother, Evanna was left with ashes in her tongue and a cold hand between her small ones. She remembered the blood, she only remembered her blood, and the pain was so huge, so dark and blurry, she buried her mother deep in her memory. Because remembering her meant that her duty was pointless, that fate was cruel, and that every great soul could drown on their own puddle of blood and bones.

She told this to Aemond on their wedding night. The bedding was done, he denied to be pushed by people and Evanna thanked him by kissing him when he put her near. They didn't like each other, he saw in her a dull girl who inherited nothing but the golden hair of the Lannisters and a few golden jewellery. The rest of her was pure north, that cold country, strange and folkloric. But she was pretty, as every Lannister was, and her silence made her invisible in room full of snakes. He knew that she not only could hear, but she guarded everything in that little pretty head and judge with her eyes what she found interesting. Aemond had been the center of that interest the first two weeks of their betrothal, but he thought it was, obviously, because of the missing eye. But it wasn't only that. On the celebration, the now princess Evanna gifted him one of the rarest books in the Seven Kingdoms. A book about the diverse religions on Westeros and legends circulating around villages he didn't even heard about. All those stories were collected by more than a thousand maesters, each from different parts of the world.

"There's a chapter dedicated to Valyrian blood and it's descendents" she told him when a drunk Aegon laughed at the gift.

She knew about his interests of politics, and as a good northern girl, she included people's believes and traditions in the same aspect. At the end, isn't a king chosen by the gods to protect their people? He even felt ashamed of gifting her a simple silved ring.

"Little wolfs, little lions and little dragons... all have claws and teeth, sharp, always sharp" said Helaena the moment she greeted the bride.

The first time they laid together was better than what Evanna expected. They kissed gently and she was kindly treated by the prince. It hurted a bit but for the softness of Aemond made it simple and easy. They rested on the same bed, the limits of confidence already crossed and there was no need of looking for another bed when they already laid in that huge one.

"You are smarter that I thought" he said, looking at the cealing.

"I'm doing what I have to do, and to do it well I have to numb myself..."she looked at the ceiling too "It takes a bit of time, tho"

"You can be smart with me"

"You won't like it, my prince. Men think they want to be corrected until they reach perfection, but the hard truth comes and flaws appear. And at the end of they day they only want a wife to fuck at night and a wife to hush their babes at morning"

"Where did you learn all that gory philosophy" he looked at her.

"My mother"

"A Stark, sounds about right then"

It was then when she told him about her. Aemond could not relate, but he was the kind of person who found more confort in others point of view about pain. Maybe an absent father like Viserys wasn't as bad as Jason Lannister, and even tho he loved her mother Alicent, the bond between a mother and daughter was something else. And to lose a mother like that...it was a bigger ache than most.

On the weeks that followed, the newly weds barely changed their routines. Only at night the things were different. They would sit together at dinner when the family reunited, often commenting in the background, other times Evanna dined alone but ate a piece of lemon cake with Aemond, who just finished training or reading. They would share pages of books, the nights on the bed ended with conversations about the old Westeros, talles about beyond the wall or a bit of gossip about the Red Keep. They slept together because Aemond found a strange friend on that chamber, he felt no need of a bigger bed. Some nights he would kiss her again like the wedding night, and another attempt for an heir accured. Evanna enjoyed those nights, but because he insisted on ignoring her the majority of the days, she kept her illusions out of her mind.

Soon she found herself with a child. She vomited every single morning, Aemond already gone for the day. Alone, she cleaned herself, she pitied the maidens too much. She felt humiliated by her own body. When Aemond was told the news he felt divided. He was contempt about entering this part of his life, the father of a future Targaryen, a child who could build his own legend, like he was doing at the moment. But he thought of Evanna, such a beautiful woman, she now will be reduced as a mother of a Targaryen. She won't be able to ride every morning as she used to, or read as much as she likes to, or dance careless as the young lady she still was. All the looks she received for herself will be pass to the heir she will bleed on a few moons. One night, Evanna felt asleep before Aemond, something unusual. So he stared at her for so long one can't even count. Why was she so tired all of a sudden? It was she the one who spend her day fencing and traveling. The lack of sleep made Aemond woke a bit later than usual, so when he was about to leave, he heard the early morning sickness of his wife. He had never seen her in such pain. She was criying softly and tryed to push him away, not letting him help her.

"I've lost an eye when I was barely twelve,I've seen blood on the most violents of combats, I train day and night to kill my enemies when the time comes...you think this will repel me, Evanna?" He pulled softly her hair, caressing her back. He had seen her mother do this to Helaena back when she was pregnant.

"It does repel me" she said, tearing up for the pression.

"I'll call the maidens, you'll go with me and take some fresh air and fresh water" he said, helping her up.

The fatter she got, the more fake smiles she was giving around the halls of the Red Keep. The only one acting normal was Aemond, he kept eating cakes with her, he kept holding the chair besides him on the big dinners, and he acted as his there wasn't a bundle the size of a watermelon under Evanna's dress. She liked that, she felt good around him, because he respected her loneliness and at the same time, he was the only one making her forget about it. Aemond on the other hand, spend her days thinking about her, he made sure that lemon and flour arrived well, thinking on names and writing down every name that made a mark on history, to inspire their future son.

The week Rhaenyra came back to King's Landing, she was on the final days of the labors, according to the maester. The princess recognised the pregnancy as the first one of Evanna and she also remembered her mother's fate, a very similar one to her own dear one. Rhaenyra reached her late in the night to congratulate her on the baby, as everyone does to a pregnant woman. She eyed the girl first, thinking about what she would have liked to hear during her first pregnancy.

"I know mothers should never safe a bigger place for any of their children...but the ones that scares you the most always drags you the furthest. For me was Jace...the first one" she smiled looking at the teenage boy who drank with his own grandfather and step-father. "I was absolutely terrified when I was pregnant with him...and the fear continued with Luke and Joffrey..." she turned to look at Evanna. "It is a hard thing to do, my mother said it was our own batterfield...but to create them, to have a creature that makes you feel need it...your love for them would grow inside you the moment the get into your world... I deeply believe that my mother's love was so big that it keeps protecting me and my loved ones. And I believe deeply that your mother's love will be with you when the time comes".

She spoke and instead of caressing Evanna's belly like everyone did, she caressed Evanna's face. The soft exchange was not missed by Aemond at the other side of the room. They wished each other a very sincere goodbye and when they left back to Dragonstone Evanna embraced her out of an impulse.

The night he saw the two woman talking he came to bed quieter than usual. She looked at her husband cautiously because for the first time since the pregnancy, he looked stroked by the belly of Evanna. He stared at it as if he was impressed by a pregnancy, maybe he just realised that I'm going to pop up in any giving moment, she thought. But when he lied by her side she knew what it was.

"He has never kicked you" he spoke.

"He moves, i can reassured you" Evanna smiled at his concern "but he hasn't kick yet, such a good baby". She then slowly took his hand and put it in her belly. "Let's see if he's awake, maybe he likes you more". Aemond remained still, both waiting for a response.

"Do we agree on the baby being a boy?" He asked.

"Well, you were the first one doing it...I just follow, kind of manifesting our wish"

"I didn't know you wanted a boy...always thought woman preferred girls" he moved his hand around the belly trying to awake the occupant.

"I'll be glad if he's a boy, everything would be so easy..."

"You would be "glad" if is a boy, but you do "wish" for a girl. Confess it" he looked at her, half smiling.

"I just want everything to go well" she half confessed. Of course she wanted a girl, a girl for her to raise, a loyal companion, maybe a selfish wish that would be enjoyed until she has to marry her little girl off. She now became the puzzled one when Aemond put his head under her shoulders, his face extremely close to her belly.

"Maybe this little dragon is so offended by our assumptions that refused to move...Is that the case? Is my little dragon a feisty baby girl?" He whispered, stroking the belly.

It was then when a kick was thrown. Evanna cryed out, not too laud or alarming. Just a little scare, but Aemond sense it too. They exchanged a look. She decided to rise her sleeping gown up to her breast, fully showing the belly. They observed it for a few moments, hesitating. "Speak again"

"Was I right? You would do well by listening to me so early, making me a proud father...if for the contrary you are just rebelling against me...we will have a talk before you even learn how to, little dragon" he said in a serious tone, Evanna smiled, she barely saw the goofyness of his husband. He did have a sense of humor, but not the kind of humor that included to degrade himself just to make a kid laugh. He enjoyed this version of him. The baby kicked again and they both let out a stupid noise of surprise.

"I couldn't tell which option he, or she, chose" she smiled at him. "Buy the baby certainly likes your voice".

That made Aemond smile. The baby started to kick softly. Evanna hummed the first song that came to mind, maybe the baby could feel the vibrations. Aemond then putted his head in Evanna's chest, his hand still on the moving belly. They slept like that for the rest of the night.

Three days later, Jason Lannister visited her daughter. A dinner was held, even though the maester recommended rest for the pregnant woman, she felt the need of showing for her father, to remind him that she was as part of the family as he wanted her (or himself) to be. Viserys order to put her chair by his side, he had grown font of his good daughter and Alicent wanted her closer than usually as well. The night was full of stupid comments by the Lannister, only his brother Tyland felt confident enough to shut him. Aemond could feel the uncomfort of his wife.

"I want to propose a toast to my daughter, Evanna" he didn't even stood up. But Aemond did, cup in his hand, and the rest raised with him as well, only Jason was awkwardly left down. He stood then. "My only daughter, you completed the dream I dreamed for yourself. You may look like me, but the Seven made you with your mother in their eyes, kind and dignified". Evanna was emotional, the first time she heard his father praise her mother, she loved to be compare to the person she loved the most. He then chucked "Let's hope the Seven gave more hips to the daughter than they did to the late mother".

Only Jason laughed alone. To stunned to speak, they looked at him, he only quickly stopped at the silence. Evanna stood up, breath heavy on her chest. She got closer to her father. She spoke slowly once she faced him.

"I hate you so much, father....I hope you die slowly, chocking on your own blood, nobody to save your body and soul"

Anger possessed the lord, his hand raised to hit the girl, but the noise of a sword unsheathing made him stop. It was Aemond, pointing at the lord.

"Don't dare touch my wife ever again, Lord Lannister, or you won't have fingers left to put your pretty rings"

The tension kept the room in silence. The King was offended, his late wife's death came into his mind again, and he was willing to punish the Lord. But the girl started to panic.

"I...I think something happened" she cryed, fear eating her face. Alicent ran to her, Helaena tried to help, holding Evanna by the hands and back while Alicent look at the girls underskirt, the water broke, a little blood dropped too.

It went to fast, but too slow too. It was more of an endless compilation of fast pacing around. She heard the King's word to Lord Lannister, letting him know that her daughter was what would keep him alive after that comment. Aemond did not know what to do. Few men entered their wives labors, the screams of Evanna scared him too. She was in pain, that was for sure, but he knew it was something else in her mind.

Evanna only could say a word, "no". She said no to everything. To knee in front of the bed she said no, to hold still she said no, to breath deeply she said no, to push when the pain strikes she said no. Alicent took her face in her hands.

"Lyrra Stark survived and succeed this pain three times before she was took by the gods. She was as much of a wolf as you, she is here with you tonight".

"I CAN'T FEEL HER HERE" she cried.

"She is, Evanna, but you can't barely breath how are you suppose to feel her. Now, my dear, look at me, breath deeply. Do it for her".

She breathed, Alicent with her. Hands tight, eyes locked. The pushes started and the cries travelled the castle.

The men of the family paced on the dinner room. Jason didn't left immediately, he was willing to meet his grandson. So he drank alone, Tyland looked at him trying to scold him in silence. At the screams, Viserys touch his sons shoulder.

"It's in their nature, Aemond. It makes you wonder if soldiers are lucky their pain is quicker and smaller"

"Women have this tendency of exaggerating, your grace...when a baby was delivered on my house our Father used to take us for a hunting. He was annoyed by mother...I undertood him after my first son..." said Jason, he was already drunk, so Aemond only gave him a look. He looked at the King and bowed before heading to his wife's quarters.

He reached the door when the last pushed was announced. So he was there when the crying started. It was a baby's screams, a healthy angry baby. The now mother was bleeding, sweating and crying. She didn't saw him, but Alicent did. The Queen smiled at him and stood up, leaving Evanna to catch her breath.

"Evanna did amazing. So quick, very clean. She hasn't bleed to much. In my experience, I say she will be fine" she steped behind.

The maids cut the umbilical cord, the after birth was easily done and the baby covered in a blanket. The mother begged to see the baby.

"A girl, princess" said the midwife, a serious tone.

The little of hair she had was brunette, pail like a Targaryen but when she opened her eyes, they were grey, Stark grey eyes. For a moment she feared for Aemond's wishes, but she was mesmerised by her baby. She had in her arms the evidence of her heritage. She had made a little werewolf. She saw her dearest friend alive once again.

Everyone left, except Aemond. The bed was properly accommodated for the mother to rest. Aemond helped her get into it, but he didn't hold his daughter yet. He only saw. She was sleeping at the arms of her mother. Maybe he thought she had been unfaithful, that the baby was a bastard. But he had a feeling, something in his chest made him trust his wife, and she recognised in the baby some features identical to Helaena's and Aegon's babies. The lips form, the long of the noses. And the baby had her grey eyes open so wide...it was Aemond's eyes, the same distance between then, and the way her mouth rested. She was her daughter too, she was a Stark, but a Targaryen as well.

"I guess you were right, we offended her the whole time" She tried to joke.

"Well, that explains why she refused to look like a proper Targaryen" he said, also joking, but being as dry as always. He laid next to them. It was then when he decided to take her in his arms. The baby started to cry. The mother tried to hushed her softly but she cried more and more. So Aemond did something that worked once.

"High in the halls of the kings who are gone...Jenny would dance with her ghosts..." he started to recit. He didn't sing, he just spoke. "The ones she had lost and the ones she had found...And the ones who had loved her the most...The ones who'd been gone for so very long. She couldn't remember their names...They spun her around on the damp old stones. Spun away all her sorrow and pain..." he started to rock her, she stopped crying and started to close her eyes. "And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave...Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave".

The baby was sleeping. Father, mother and daughter cuddle up in the bed, both parents looking at the little person inside the blanket as if it was a box full of explosives. When she left a sudden but soft sigh they couldn't help but smile, feeling relieved at the sign of a peacefully sleeping creature. The wife looked at the husband and the husband looked at the wife. They both did it at the same time, perfectly connected, they kissed. Long and sweet. She then felt asleep on his shoulder. He was left with the two woman. What was he doing now with all those names annotated? None of them were female names...well, if he looked again, a Targaryen name wouldn't suit her. Aemond remembered a story then and his mind was made up.

Her little dragon, her little werewolf, both have claws and teeth, sharp, always sharp.

Lyrra Targaryen, first of her name.