#under your command

[bookpalace]

Ausgelesen Dezember 2024

Haunting Adeline - H. D. Carlton ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆

Cleopatra und Frankenstein - Coco Mellors ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆

Der Totenarzt - Christ Carter ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆

Hunting Adeline - H. D. Carlton ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Games Gods Play - Abigail Owen ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Die Auswahl - Ally Condie ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆

Der literarische Adventskalender- Diverse ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆

Call-a-Dom: Under Your Command - Magaux Navara ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆

Die Flucht - Ally Condie ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆

[crystallizsch]

okay hi so listen hear me out

sea snake is a bit too obvious (and too boring)

so i made him based on some kind of lionfish??? (bc something something venomous marine animal) also with a LOT of creative liberties i made with how the fish looks like

let’s also give his fins some rips and tears here and there bc what are the implications of that??? that’s for you 🫵 to decide

anyways chat i lowkey dont know what i was doing

i had no other thoughts but haha funny snake man i turn into fish

[robo-beasty]

Tepid, miserable child. Enver Flymm.

Then, a warlock offered us a pretty penny for Enver's service. He was a smart boy —too smart. It was give him up —and all of us live— or refuse, and die.

[arrowheadedbitch]

My favorite part of Ruthlessness is the implication that Poseidon counted how many men Odysseus had

[opal-owl-flight]

So theres an arc I have where 4 becomes the new captain while 3s down after the Biggest Run, right. The Cap4 arc focuses on 4s efforts to investigate the strange changes happening to the salmonid migration patterns via infiltrating Grizzco.

Epic the musical’s songs are one HELL of a way to tell the tale, even if its not one to one!! Since the Wisdom saga releases in 3 days Im going to be drawing up one scene per song and how it would play out in the Cap4 arc :)

[adragonprinceswhore]

The Way I Feel Under Your Command

Chapter IV: The Way I Feel When I’m in Your Hands I Prev I Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen x Reader (she/her pronouns)

Summary: Yesterday's tryst lingers in Aemond's mind, refusing to let him rest.

Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, allusions to smut (oral f. receiving), perfectionism, self-doubt

Word count: 2700

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my darling @randomdragonfires for being this fic's number one fan. ILY Sam 🩵

He still tastes it.

Her.

Tangy and wanting and addictive. 

The rush Aemond felt from being with her still bubbles inside his veins as he laces up his running shoes. Not even a night's sleep has helped his inner craving for more. 

More of her. 

After their tryst last night, when he couldn't contain his want for her, and when she came twice on his tongue, he’d been so dumbfounded as the reality of what they'd done settled in, he left wordlessly while she was still panting, slumped against the grimy wall of the boathouse with her shirt ripped open and skirt hiked up around her waist. 

She must despise him now, leaving her yet again. 

If she only knew of the panic swirling inside of him. The conflicting feelings of wanting to run away from her and needing to feel her close, just for a little longer. 

Maybe it’s for the best. 

Nothing can come of this anyway; it’s a relationship doomed from the start. 

Like everything belonging to summer, it flourishes now, only to slowly decay and rot away as the dreamy shimmer over Red Lake dulls out.

Autumn, and the promise of an ending, lurks around the corner.  

This morning, Aemond doesn’t bother with stretching, eager to just run, until his legs give in and his lungs hurt. He needs that soothing numbness that comes after a good workout; the kind that kills the rowdy demons in his head and allows him to just exist; just be, even if only for a few hours. 

Mindlessly, he sets sight on the path that twists around the small hills and trees outlining the resort. There’s no thought behind his direction, he doesn't need one. He knows the ruins of House Crane as well as he knows the spiralling cobblestone streets of Oldtown, and the skyscrapers towering over King’s Landing. 

Every well-trimmed tree and carefully groomed bush he passes is familiar. He’s watched them stay the same his entire life. Just like Red Lake, they never seem to age, never grow outdated. 

There’s an eternal charm to the resort, in the way it stays the same. 

It must’ve looked like this when mum was a kid as well. 

Like most mornings, Daeron had asked him if he wanted to join his daily outing. 

Today was something about mountain biking close to Goldengrove, a two-hours drive away. For a moment, Aemond had considered taking his younger brother up on his offer. Seemingly the perfect escape; a nice, physical activity with just the right amount of recklessness to keep him alert, without any real risk of permanent brain damage. But there was this voice in the back of his head that told him to stay. 

A barely-there, low hum that kept him tethered to the resort. 

That voice whispered about her, urging Aemond to seek her out. For what reason, he’s not sure. He can’t imagine that she wants to talk to him. She might even be looking for a new dance partner right at this moment, given how yesterday’s session ended. 

By the time his legs ache and lungs fight for oxygen, he finds himself back by the Targaryen villa. And just like the other day, accompanying the familiar scent of roses, is the sight of her. 

The fierce pounding of his heart has nothing to do with the run anymore.

There is something that stings in his chest when he sees her, a stab that isn’t entirely uncomfortable, more like the chilling rush he felt when he was with her last time. Addictive and terrifying.

She wears the same radiant smile as always, teaching a small group consisting of mostly men, eager to pull her into their arms as she teaches them a slow-paced couples dance. 

But something about her seems different. It’s all a bit too perfect, too polished, like a performance she’s trying too hard to pull off. 

And now he sees it. Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

Unsure of whether he should approach her or just leave, Aemond hovers at a distance, temporarily mesmerised by the gentle way she moves, a gracious contrast to the fumbling geezers trying to keep up with her. 

Her voice is soft but commanding as she corrects their postures. Despite her overly cheery smile, there’s something magnetic about it. It’s a mask, he knows that much. And yet, he feels her draw him in. 

Her hair catches in the sunlight, glinting with each turn, and his gaze follows her almost without realising it.

Aemond leans against a nearby fence, the morning breeze cooling the sweat that clings to his skin. 

There’s a tightness in his chest. Not the physical ache from his run, but something else, something deeper. 

As she demonstrates proper hand-placement, he can’t help but admire the ease with which she moves, the fluidity in her steps. It’s as if she was made to do this; to dance. To exist in a world of grace and movement.

Still, the memory of yesterday plagues him. The way he left, abrupt and thoughtless, gnaws at him. She doesn’t know how often his mind has returned to her in the hours since, or how he can’t seem to sort his otherwise cooperative mind out. 

He told himself he wouldn’t seek her out again. What happened between them was a mistake better left forgotten. 

But now, watching her, he feels that same familiar pull. It’s not just the desire simmering beneath his skin. No, something else hides there, a strange sense of regret and the faintest whisper of something more severe. 

Something he’s not ready to acknowledge.

She catches him off guard when her eyes flicker toward him, her smile faltering for just a fraction of a second before she recovers. Her mask slips back into place, but in that brief moment, he sees it; the hurt she’s hiding behind the façade.

Aemond pushes off the fence, guilt, embarrassment and longing fighting within him. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to move toward her, determined to say something, anything, to fix what he’d broken.

But even as he walks toward her, the unease in his gut tells him that it’s already too late. 

“Can we talk?” 

Aemond’s voice is low, almost drowned out by the chatter of her elderly students. 

She turns to him, still smiling, but there’s a coolness there now. A distance. 

“Talk about what?” she asks, tone light but guarded.

“About… yesterday”

For a brief second, something shifts in her eyes. But she blinks it away, that fake smile widening.

“It is what it is, Aemond. Don’t worry about it. It won’t happen again”

Her nonchalance stings. He thought he’d feel relief hearing her dismiss his worries, but there’s a tightness in his chest, a sharp stabbing he can’t quite identify. It feels too much like the rush he’d felt when they were together; frightening in the most compelling way. 

He forces himself to nod,

“Right. It won’t happen again”

Without another word, she turns and leaves him standing there, a hollow sense of regret the only remainder of their interaction. 

An entire day goes by, yet Aemond can’t shake the lingering feeling she has instilled in him. 

He barely talks during dinner, even quieter than usual. By the time dessert is served, some white chocolate treat he won’t bother reaching for, Helaena lays a comforting hand on his restlessly tapping fingers and asks in a whisper,

“You okay, Aemond?”

“Mm”

Not long after, he excuses himself, and heads up to his room. 

The restless energy that had driven him to run this morning has returned, creeping beneath his skin like an impending catastrophe he can’t outrun. 

He knows he won’t be able to sleep, or even rest, in this state, and mindlessly grabs his pack of cigs before heading out the door again, moving carefully and with light steps so his family doesn’t notice his departure. 

He needs time to think and sort out his feelings, and listening to his brother's endless yapping, or his sister’s concern, won’t help. 

He rounds the back of the villa, and walks aimlessly around the abundantly green landscape of Red Lake resort, hoping that the cool night air will settle his nerves.

His mood causes agitation to fume inside him, clouding his own self-hatred and uneasy state. 

Why did this bother him so much? Why does he give a single fuck about what a dance instructor at a dusty old resort thinks about him? She can stay disappointed with him until he dies, and it won’t affect his life in the slightest. 

As his mind spirals, for the second time today, he is forcefully confronted with the woman that won’t leave his mind. 

She’s alone, moving in the dim light of the evening, her figure illuminated by the soft glow of the nearby lanterns. 

Aemond watches her body twists and turns in graceful arcs, fluid yet tense, like she’s lost in her own world. The movements don’t have the same seamless elegance he’s used to seeing from her. 

There's an edge to them, a sharpness that betrays frustration.

Her arms cut through the air, precise but forceful, as if she’s trying to carve space around her, or push something away. 

Her feet slide across the grass, fast, then hesitant, as though she’s caught in an unspoken argument with herself, torn between surrender and resistance. 

Every step is deliberate, but there’s a tension in the way she moves, a stiffness that shouldn't be there. She’s fighting the rhythm instead of flowing with it.

Aemond stops in his tracks, hiding in the shadow of a tree, not wanting to disturb her. 

Something in the way she dances, so fervent and desperate, tells him to not interrupt. 

It’s not the same careful grace she shows when she teaches or performs in front of others. This is personal. She moves as if the dance is both liberating  and restricting; a place where she can express what words can’t, but also where she’s trapped, unable to find peace.

Every sharp turn of her body is a silent shout of frustration. Each spin is a desperate attempt to reclaim control. 

There’s an anger in her movements, the kind that comes when someone has been pushed too far, and Aemond recognizes it. He’s felt it before; the need to throw yourself into something, anything, to drown out the chaos in your mind.

To Aemond, there’s a beauty hidden in the way she’s unravelling. 

It’s the rawness of someone who’s vulnerable, unguarded, and for a moment, he feels an unexpected pull in his chest. A need to reach out and stop her from pushing herself too hard. 

But something keeps him rooted in place. 

Maybe it’s the knowledge that she wouldn’t want his help anyway. 

Still, he can't tear his gaze away. She’s captivating, even in her frustration, maybe especially so. 

The fierce determination in her eyes, the way her body refuses to give in, even as her movements falter, reminds him of himself. It’s both mesmerising and heartbreaking to watch.

He’s so used to her being in control. 

Always composed. 

Always effortlessly graceful. 

He watches the tension settle in the arch of her back, the clench of her jaw, the way she bites her lip when she stumbles again, refusing to acknowledge her misstep.

Cautiously, he moves out of his hiding spot, 

“Why didn’t you tell me we were practising?”

Her head aggressively snaps to the side at his voice, 

“I’m not practising. I need to figure this out on my own”

She sounds as irritated as the tension in her body displays. Aemond watches her for a moment, recognizing the passion and determination etched in her features. It reminds him of his own relentless drive when it comes to perfecting his skills. 

Never good enough. 

Never satisfied.

“You’re overworking yourself,” he says, tone softer this time, “Take a break” 

She sighs heavily, exasperated, but after a beat of contemplation, she nods, 

“Maybe you’re right”

She moves away from the grass, and from him, slowly walking towards the nearby dock, feet dragging behind her in a silent invitation for him to follow.

She sits down on the edge of the dock, her legs dangling over the water. Aemond, who’d heeded her wordless instructions and followed her, remains upright, shifting his weight from one foot to another, unsure of whether he should stay or leave her alone. 

A suffocating silence hangs in the air. He observes her, but she doesn’t look up to meet his gaze. 

Her eyes are trained on her legs, a frown forming between her brows as she digs her thumbs into the muscles of her thighs. She winches and bites her lip to prevent a whimper from escaping, but still continues to amateurishly press into her flesh. 

By the sound of a third thinly concealed groan leaving her, Aemond kneels next to where she sits and grabs her leg in a firm hold, steering it so that it rests on his lap. 

His touch is firm but gentle as he works his fingers into the tight muscles of her legs, easing the tension that’s built up from her relentless practice. He focuses on her calves first, then moves up to her thighs, covertly enjoying the soft heat of her skin a bit more than he’d admit. 

She closes her eyes, leans back slightly, and hums in satisfaction as his hands continue their careful work.

“That feels really good”, she murmurs after a while. 

Aemond’s heart beats a little faster at the sound of her voice, so content and inviting. The irritation from before has been swept away by the light breeze of the lake, and he can feel her slowly relaxing under his touch, her body accepting the comfort he’s offering.

“It’s something I picked up back when I did weekly competitions. Your legs need rest” 

When he finally pulls his hands away, she glances at him, intrigued in a way Aemond can’t really decipher.

There’s a vulnerability in her eyes now; a crevice in the walls she’s built around herself. 

It mirrors the way he feels; scared shitless that the warmth spreading in his chest is anything more than shallow desire. 

He moves to sit next to her, careful so his long legs don’t touch the water beneath them. They both observe the lake shimmering in the moonlight, so tranquil and peaceful. 

The silence persists between them. 

It doesn’t feel natural, not when his mind is swirling with things he’d like to ask her.  

Have you thought about me all day too?

Do you ever think about me? 

Do you regret what happened yesterday? 

Aemond Targaryen wouldn’t call himself a coward. He’s always been fearless, always been eager to prove himself. Never backing down from a challenge, no matter how strenuous. And yet, here he sits, glued to his spot, unable to break the silence suffocating them. 

A few more moments go by with his eyes locked on the dark glitter dancing on the surface of the water. Then, the familiar warmth of her fingertips tickles the back of his hand, and he realises that she’s far braver than he’ll ever be. 

She moves closer and rests her head on his shoulder, eyes still admiring the beautiful allure of Red Lake. 

Aemond flips his hand, and lets her fingers run over his palm. 

He gently grabs her hand and lets his thumb run over the thin skin over her knuckles, 

“I don’t regret what happened yesterday” 

“Me neither”, she replies. 

“Good”

The suffocating air between them clouds his senses, and without thinking too much about it, Aemond shifts to the side. He carefully cups her cheek and steers her away from his shoulder and towards his lips.  

There is a vibration within him that only starts to buzz when he touches her. Perhaps it’s his greediness; his wish to take all she has, indulge in her touch until he grows tired of it. 

He doesn’t think he ever will. 

A/N: Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a comment or reblog, it would mean a lot. Kisses!

[stuck-in-jelly]

I don't know why I am just realizing all the souls that come out of Viren's cave in the In-Between were all the human soldiers he mutated against their will and all their souls died with great trauma and regret, being unable to pass into the afterlife

I kind of makes me really sad we didn't get to see a return of the likes of Kasef or even mutated human soldiers

[darlingod]

Cardan was so real for giving up on life for a moment after confessing his feelings to Jude in tcp. He was like yeah, actually, maybe you should shoot me. Knife? Okay, whichever method you prefer. I respect your decision.

[fatedroses]

Chance encounters in Costa del Sol.

[my-dumb-obsessions]

💕 Happy Anniversary, Carie & Nate! 💕

A year ago today, I completed a short fic based on a random prompt that had been sitting in my inbox for 3 months. That was Silverite Moon, and it was the day I decided that Cariane Amell and Nathaniel Howe had more story that I needed to tell.

Since then, I went backward and forward (and backward again) in their story with 3 more fics, and there's still more story to come!

But I'm so proud of this work I spent almost a year on, and this romance that still owns my whole soul. So I wanted to celebrate and share it again:

Nathaniel Howe returns home to the wreckage of the past and builds a new future with an unlikely partner. Warden-Commander Cariane Amell is thrown into a role she never expected and never prepared for and finds family and love along the way.

[popsixsquishcicerolipschitz]

Under Your Command

Stina Nordenstam

[op3n-arms]

Polites! Hi!

[He perks up at his friend's voice, smiling at the man.]

"Hi, Eurylochus!"

[fire-on-fuel]

look I know the clones are in the prequels for a total of 30 seconds but without the rose colored glasses of the clone wars show it's so obvious how unpersoned they are and I think the worst part is it doesnt have to be shown through drastic means it's all through what isn't said. The scene that's lasered into my mind is when windu, yoda, and obi-wan are on that laat-i talking about incredibly high security clearance information that hasn't and won't leave the jedi council and you can see the armor of 3 or 4 clone troopers standing less than 2 feet away- but why would the jedi censor themselves? who are these clone troopers going to tell? what would they even do with the information, their whole purpose is to serve the GAR. There is the off chance that the info could be used against them if the republic turns on the jedi, but they aren't thinking about that possibility, they haven't even thought of the possibility they're listening. It just settles over you and festers as you watch. Sure obi-wan has a rapport with cody, sure the average jedi general is civil to their troopers, but these things are paint slapped over the rot shredding the republic. There's nuance in what a clone's life looks like, how much power they hold, how they're allowed to wield it and who they're beholden to first, but its the social segregation and the tone of interactions writing the obvious equation that tells you there's a world the clones build for eachother underneath the natborns' world and that is the biggest tip off of that word no one involved wants to think about that starts with an s

[redcoatsuggestions]

My Dashes are absolutely Spattered, Sir

[constantvariations]

Aura makes fight choreography so damn frustrating. What do you mean that this character that hasn't taken a single hit thus far gets knocked out by a chair?

[my-dumb-obsessions]

🎵 9 Ship Songs 🎶

Rules: List 9 songs for one (or more) of your ships. Optionally, tag 9 people.

Not tagged, but I saw a bunch of people do this so I wanted to 😅. Tagging (if you haven't already and you want to play) @sillyliterature, @nowandthane, @wardenkay, @psalacanthea, @anderstrevelyan, @cullenvhenan, @sinquisition, @glowing-blue-feathermage, @thedastrash.

9 OTP Songs - Cariane Amell & Nathaniel Howe

Dream of the Archer (Heart) - HIS song, theme from the fic of the same name.

Wayfaring warrior soul, still wild The archer stands Arrow measured to the goal, sing of Strong and living man

Trouble Me (10,000 Maniacs) - early friendship/pre-relationship song, applies to both of them; theme from the fic Familiar Roads, Forgotten Roads.

(Trouble me) disturb me with all your cares and your worries (Trouble me) on the days when you feel spent Why let your shoulders bend Underneath this burden When my back is sturdy and strong? Trouble me

Dreams (The Cranberries) - theme from Silverite Moon.

I know I felt like this before But now I'm feeling it even more Because it came from you Then I open up and see The person falling here is me A different way to be

Crash Into Me (Dave Matthews Band) - HIS love theme, a mix of boyish wonder and sweet affection that is also incredibly horny.

Touch your lips just so I know In your eyes, love, it glows so I'm bare boned and crazy for you When you come crash Into me, baby And I come into you

Because the Night (orig. Patti Smith, cover 10,000 Maniacs) - HER love theme, also the theme from As the Sun Descends.

Come on now, try and understand The way I feel under your command Take my hand, as the sun descends They can't hurt you now Can't hurt you now Can't hurt you now Because the night belongs to lovers Because the night belongs to us

Head Over Feet (Alanis Morrissette) - their "friends to lovers" theme.

You've already won me over in spite of me Don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are I couldn't help it It's all your fault

(I Can't Help) Falling in Love With You (UB40 version) - yes, I prefer the reggae-fied cover...it gives me fun Rivaini wedding vibes.

Take my hand Take my whole life too 'Cause I can't help Fallin' in love with you

Hold You in My Arms (Ray LaMontagne) - theme for a future installment of their series, post-Awakening, when shit hits the fan and they really need to be there for each other.

Don't let your eyes refuse to see Don't let your ears refuse to hear Or you ain't never going to shake This sense of sadness I could hold you in my arms I could hold on forever

I Belong to You (Lenny Kravitz) - an overarching theme for what Carie and Nate are to each other.

You are the flame in my heart You light my way in the dark You are the ultimate star You pick me up from above Your unconditional love Takes me to paradise I belong to you And you You belong to me too You make my life complete You make me feel so sweet

BONUS: Fight Song (Rachel Platten) - not super tied to their relationship story but this is Carie's song, since I included Nate's.

I might only have one match But I can make an explosion And all those things I didn't say Wrecking balls inside my brain I will scream them loud tonight Can you hear my voice this time?