#who cares about history books saying you were right! the time that matters is the now!

[rusquared]

the news coming from columbia and ucla is driving me insane, what the hell? now i'm thinking of the older folk who had protested (and been villified for it) during the vietnam war, or during the south african apartheid. was it maddening, later, when you were hailed as heroes and institutions got to write pieces in your 'honor'? it feels maddening right now. i think if a decade from now i hear about a memorial being erected on one of these campuses for the Palestinian people or for the student protesters, i'll go insane, i'll lose my mind.

[colorisbyshe]

I just came across a tweet saying that Aaron Bushnell--the man who burned himself to death while yelling Free Palestine until he couldn't anymore--will be "in the history books" and that phrase has been coming up a lot. And it chafes me every time I read it, every time I hear it.

Cause, a. no, a lot of this won't be in the American history books. American atrocities, especially those overseas but even those against American people (especially American people of color), don't go in the literal history books. Or the figurative ones. Most American atrocities are wiped from the collective memory... sometimes as soon as they happen. They go unreported (like the first person to self immolate to protest this genocide), they go erased, they go whitewashed, they go falsely recontextualized, and they get twisted into pro-America sentiment--we were right for those atrocities, we were wrong for them but we learned, we didn't learn from it but we felt bad about it and should be comforted for that soreness.

And b. is harder to verbalize but I'm gonna try. It feels... performative in the literal sense. Like we only value what is happening today out of deference for how people in the future will perceive it. We aren't doing anything to change anything NOW, to care about other people NOW, but so that one day... we'll be remembered a caring. Like this man killed himself as gesture, as a move for his legacy.

And I see this phrase--"this will be remembered in the history books"--whipped out in extremely horrific contexts. A child's dead body hanging off a wall, "oh, this will be in the history books." What does that even mean? Was her death worth the historical context? Was it necessary to embellish the horror of it all?

Would the people reading these hypothetical history books not get the wrongness of the genocide without the death of a little girl that you're using as... window dressing?

It just seems so weirdly self satisfied. Like you're eager to note you just witnessed a real moment that people will remember decades from now. When... a lot of people won't which is what is so tragic. A lot of people don't even know it's happening right now.

Because, again, it's not being reported. And when it is being reported it's not being reported honestly.

I'm not saying this well but it just feels like such a gross reaction to things we're seeing in real time.

Why does it have to matter later to matter now? Why is the hypothetical reaction of a history book reader the thing you think about?

A lot of people won't live to read those "history books" because people, right now, aren't doing anything to help them.

[gojos-thot-patrol]

It's the horniest time of the year Dear reader.

Now Loading, Kinktober Week one...

Synopsis: Suguru has loved you since he met you. Or maybe lust is a better word. Either way, it never really mattered. You were a good girl who would never give a dirty fuck boy like him a chance. You were smarter than that. Even now, as you sit on his lap learning how to smoke for the first time, you'd never give him a chance. Right? Kinks: Pussy drunk, corruption, non/dub con, stoned sex, and slight yandere behavior. Viewer Discretion is advised.

It was the laugh that got him. Light and sweet, delicate even. A wind chime giggle that drew Suguru’s attention away from whatever the fuck his roommate was talking about, and right to you. You were adorable. Bright vibrant eyes and a shy smile, trying to hide behind a red solo cup as Shoko continued to tease you. It made his dick twitch.

“Yeah, so true Satoru- hey who’s that?” He asked Gojo, cutting off whatever rant he was on to point at you.

“Oh, you haven't met Y/n yet?” Gojo asked.

“You have?” Suguru didn’t like the jealous pang he got from that. He didn’t like the idea that Gojo got to you first. Satoru knew this, and smirked back at him.

“Sure have,” He winked, “She’s Shoko’s new roommate. This is apparently her first party ever.”

“You don’t say?” Suguru hummed, looking over at you in time to see you decline a joint being passed your way. You screamed sheltered kid, and you probably didn’t even know it. “You should introduce me.”

“And why should I?” Satoru scoffed, “So you can fuck her once and then never answer her texts again?”

“Are you planning on treating her any better?” Suguru snorted back.

“Hey man, that’s!-...Fair enough, actually, come on.” He sighed, nodding his head towards you as he escorted his friend over. “Hey, Y/n!” He yelled with a laugh, and you waved to him.

“Hi Gojo!” You smiled, drowsily swaying back and forth as you enjoyed your buzz.

“You look like you’re having a good time,” He chuckled, “Hey, I got someone I want you to meet. This is-”

“Hi Suguru!” You waved at him, your smile growing. To Satoru’s, but more so Suguru’s surprise, you seemed to know him.

“Oh, uh, Hey.” He smiled with a soft wave.

“I thought you said you hadn’t met?” Satoru asked, looking puzzled. Your confusion etched your features as well as you looked up at him.

“Why would you say that? We have Music History together.” You gently reminded him. Geto ran though his mind palace, ripping books off the shelves as he desperately tried to remember who you were, and how the fuck he could have possibly forgotten you. 

Wait…wait…No fucking way, you couldn’t be the same girl. The one who passed out almost the moment class started? The girl who wore exclusively sweatpants and band hoodies? He had noticed you before, mostly for your good taste in music, but seeing you when you weren’t just a walking corpse was like seeing an entirely different human being. 

“I never said that, Gojo doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” Suguru swiftly threw Satoru under the bus, sitting next to you and draping his arm around your shoulders, “How have you been Y/n? Enjoying the party?” his smile was so charming, it was the only thing you could really focus on. 

“Backstabbing asshole-” Satoru muttered as he went to find better friends. 

“I’ve been good!” You smiled with a nod, leaning into his side, “Little nervous about last week's test though. I kinda struggle in that class.” You confessed.

“Really?” He asked with a precious tilt of his head. “You know, I have an A in Music History, I could tutor you if you wanted.”

“Really?!” You gasped, eyes dazzling like all of the glitter in the world was contained in them, “That would be so nice!” He laughed softly and nodded. This was almost too easy.

“Of course Sweetheart. Here, let me get your number.” 

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

You hated how much you liked Suguru. How special his attention made you feel, how sincere his care seemed to be, and how sweet his actions were. Mostly because you knew it was all an act. You thought it was funny how he tried to talk you up as if Shoko wasn’t your roommate. Did he really think she wouldn’t warn you about her friends and their natural fuck boy tendencies?

After the party that night, Shoko had told you exactly who Suguru Geto was when it came to women, and made it clear in no uncertain terms that the only thing he wanted was a one night stand. It hurt at first, considering you did have a crush on him at one point. But, you were thankful for the warning nonetheless. You knew your judgment when it came to guys was less than phenomenal, and this whole ordeal confirmed it. 

Still, you happily accepted the free tutoring. If there was one thing Suguru knew a lot about, it was anything having to do with music. His passion for it leaked into how he taught, and soaked up into you. You found yourself actually engaged in topics you previously found boring, and your grade did genuinely improve. You hated that it only added fuel to your ridiculous crush. There was some truth in the saying that the quickest way to fall in love with someone is to see them talk about their passions, and you were falling into that trap. 

Of course, the hours spent together outside of tutoring didn’t help. The parties his frat held, movie nights hosted by Shoko, randomly bumping into him at the library. You almost always found yourself somehow alone with Suguru. Often it was friendly: talking about whatever new band he discovered, or about whatever movie was playing. 

But, sometimes it got more intimate than that. Him pulling you onto his lap to “make room for more people” on the couch. Hiding in a corner at some basement show together, close enough that you could smell the tequila on his breath while he openly wished to kiss you. It took willpower you didn’t even know you had to deny him. You quickly came to the realization you needed a distraction. 

That’s what led you here. “Who are you texting?” Suguru asked, completely giving up on trying to teach you about the effect the LA riots had on the rap music genre. 

“Why do you want to know?” You questioned back, lifting an eyebrow. You were a little more than two months into your friendship with Suguru, and at some point during that time he decided he was privy to whoever it was you were talking to at any moment. He said it was because he cared about you and wanted to keep you safe. You knew it was because he was jealous.

“I’m just curious who you think is more important than getting a passing grade?” He smiled so syrupy sweet as the sarcastic comment dripped from his lips. Asshole. You sighed and shook your head. You wanted to argue with him more, but, you couldn’t keep this secret from him forever.

“So, you know Keigo from class, right?”

“Why the fuck are you talking to Keigo?” Suguru snapped as his eyes narrowed, a stark contrast from just seconds before. You flinched a bit at the venom in his question. Suguru never really cursed, and it always made you feel small when he did. Still, you couldn’t back out now.

“Simple, he’s my boyfriend.” You shrugged, trying to feign a confidence you truly did not have.

“Your what?” 

“Oh my God, you’re acting like I just told you I fucked a republican, it’s not that big of a deal!” You scoffed at his utter disgust, your shame from earlier being replaced with indignation at his reaction. You weren’t sure when he got the idea that he owned you, but you were determined to kill it.

“How long have you been “dating” Takami?” He more accused than asked.

“Only like a week. It’s not that big a deal, almost no one even knows. We're going to make it official at ABO’s Halloween party next week.” Oh, of course. You would choose his frat party to try and make things “official.” Like you were trying to make him look like a fool. He rolled his eyes, dramatically leaning back in his chair, as if he was trying to get away from you.

“Oh, well isn’t that just cute.” He sneered, the word “cute” cutting deeper than any insult he could have thrown out at that moment. You bristled at the comment, fighting back the urge to punch his stupidly cute throat.

“What crawled up your ass and died?” You scoffed, “Like you have any say in my relationships.”

“I just think it’s really funny that you say you want nothing to do with fuck boys, and you want a real relationship with someone who cares about you” he mocked, “Just to start dating the second biggest fuck boy on campus, right after Ryomen of all people.” He shrugged calmly despite the rage setting a fire up his spine.

“Well, aren't you just a nice guy.” You all but hissed. It was his turn to flinch now, your words clearly hitting a nerve dead on. He clenched his jaw and his fist, before visibly letting it go.

“Whatever. You’re a grown woman, make whatever mistakes you want.” He sighed, not willing to escalate the fight any further. Right now, that is. It wasn’t your fault you wanted to give Keigo a chance, you saw the good in everybody. Even him once, before Shoko got to you. His fight wasn’t with you, it was with Keigo. 

“You’re right, I am!” You announced, proud of your perceived win. 

“Yeah, you go girl, you’re so empowered. Now can we please get back to studying?’ He scoffed with a shake of his head. 

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

“You sure Takami isn’t going to show up tonight?” Gojo asked as he adjusted the fangs in his mouth.

“Not if he knows what’s good for him.” Suguru chuckled a bit as he finished putting the wolf paint on his face. His knuckles were still a little sore from where he cut them on the other man's teeth, reminding him of the night he reminded Keigo to stay away from you. He wondered if his eye looked any better. “How do I look?”

“Like a dollar store werewolf.” Satoru smirked, taking in his friend's torn up flannel and cheap wolf ears (definitely not cat ears) combo.

“Perfect.” Suguru grinned.

“So do you think he told Y/n what happened?” Gojo asked as he put on his vampire cape, finishing his own look. 

“Nope,” Suguru smiled, “That’s the best part. She told me the next day in class that apparently he got mugged by a stranger. She was pissed too.”

“So he kept the secret.” Gojo laughed, “Maybe he isn’t a bird brain after all.” He hummed as the doorbell rang, alerting them to the first wave of guests coming. They made it down the stairs in just enough time to see Nanami and Sukuna open the door for you, Shoko, Mei Mei, and-

Motherfucker.

“Keigo!” Suguru smiled, warm and friendly, as he wrapped an aggressive arm around your date. “I didn't expect to see you here after what happened the other night! Welcome!”

“Hey man, you can’t let one asshole run your life, ya know?” Keigo grinned, playing along despite glaring daggers into the wolfman next to him. 

“You’re so brave.” Gojo sighed with mock irreverence, “Your eye looks terrible.”

“Gee thanks.” Kegio grinned through gritted teeth. “I made it a part of the look.”

“Is the look meant to be a mugging victim?” Gojo asked with a mocking tilt of his head.

“No, he’s a zombie.” You scoffed with a playful eye roll.

“Apparently Mad Hatter was “too cheesy” for him.” Mei Mei tsked. Oooh, an Alice in Wonderland theme. It made sense, Shoko was clearly Alice- meaning Mei Mei was probably the Cheshire Cat and you were The White Rabbit. Suguru was wondering how the other girls convinced you to go out in such a short dress, the satin bunny ears and bowtie reading more Playboy Bunny than The White Rabbit. 

“You all look fantastic ladies, come on in.” He smiled, going to wrap his arm around you to lead you inside. Only for Keigo to intercept him, snatching you away from Suguru’s side and into his own with a swift arm around your waist, making you giggle up at him. Apparently, he wanted another black eye to match his current one. 

Two hours later, and Suguru was considering the ethics of murder. Clearly, knocking a molar out of Keigo Takami’s head wasn’t enough, he needed to be put in the dirt. A fact he was making all too clear by the way he blatantly felt you up, on Suguru’s couch no less. It made his teeth itch to watch, the way you drunkenly swayed into that dirty asshole. How you shyly batted his hand away from the hem of your dress, probably knowing it would be there later anyway. 

“Want me to take care of that fucker for you?” Ryomen asked, having long ditched the Micheal Myers mask and now just looking like a regular blood splattered mechanic. He knew how long Suguru had coveted you, and had no problem looking for a bullshit reason to kick your boyfriend out if it meant his boy got a chance. 

“No, If we kick him out now she’ll just go with him.” Suguru scoffed, taking a drink of his cheap beer. “Honestly, that’s probably what he wants. To get her home and alone.”

“I don’t think they’re gonna wait to get home.” Ryomen grimaced as the two of them watched Keigo slowly try to lead you away to an empty room. Suguru scowled, suddenly understanding Keigo’s game. He could hear that blonde asshole in his head now, laughing in his victory. You want me to stay away from her? What if I fucked her under your roof instead? He felt his damaged fingers twitch, craving violence.

“I’ll be in my room.” Suguru grumbled, making sure to bump into a party goer as he stormed off, begging someone to start a fight with him. Sadly, no one had the balls to try and square up, so he made it to his door with no problem. He sighed as he entered his room, vacuum sealed away from the rest of the party. He felt pathetic as he flopped on his bed. A loser as he pulled his stash out, rolling a joint and turning on the album Pablo Honey by Radiohead. If he was going to be in his sad boy feelings, he was going to commit to the bit.

Creep had just came on when you came sniveling into his room. He wasn’t sure who was more shocked about the situation, him or you. You looked up at him with wide wet eyes that probably should have made him feel some sort of sad, but just made him want to rip that strip of fabric you called a “dress” off you instead.

“Oh, uh, I didn’t expect to find you in here.” You sniffed as you leaned against the door.

“It’s my room?” He asked more than stated. 

“Yeah, and it’s your party too.” You reminded him as you joined him on the bed. He blatantly watched the way your thighs doubled in size as you sat, and desperately wished to be in between them. Drying your tears while he showed you why that asshole you were with now would never compare to him. “I thought you’d be mingling.” You mumbled.  He shrugged and took a drag off of his joint.

“I got bored,” He lied, “Too many jagoffs.” Okay, that was honest. 

“Yeah, tell me about it.” You chuckled humorlessly with a sniffle. He reached out and wiped a tear away with his thumb. 

“Where’s your boyfriend Doll?” He questioned, ignoring the frustration building up inside of him. Where the fuck was that loser? What, was he too much of a “man” to know how to deal with a few tears? Too bad- he was the one that wanted the boyfriend label. Your emotional comfort was his job now, not Suguru’s. 

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore. He got upset when I wouldn’t sleep with him and ended up taking Tinkerbell home.” OH. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry Sweetheart,” He cooed, voice dripping in sincerity as he pulled you into his lap for a warm hug. You accepted gratefully, wrapping your arms around him and shoving your face in the crook of his neck, letting the familiar smell of his soap fill your senses. 

“It’s okay…” You sniffled softly, “You tried to warn me…we weren’t that serious anyway.” You sighed. He massaged gentle circles into the small of your back, holding you close.

“Still, I know it must hurt.” He muttered to you.

“It doesn’t feel good.” You confirmed with a sigh. You watched him take a drag off the joint in his hand. You watched the way his lips wrapped around the paper, felt his chest expand under you, smelled the smoke despite the effort he made to blow it away from you. Something about the performance was mesmerizing. You never really considered drugs before, but now? Knowing they were supposed to make you feel good even when you felt like shit? Your interest was piqued. 

“Does weed taste good?” You asked, catching Suguru off guard mid puff. A laugh turned into a mild coughing fit. You pat his back to help him through it.

“Where did that come from?” He asked with an amused smirk as he caught his breath again.

“I’m just curious about it.” You shrugged, avoiding his gaze in embarrassment as you felt your face heat up. 

“Eh, it depends on the weed really. Different strands taste different.” he explained, ashing the joint into one of the soda cans Gojo left around the room. “Dirt weed tastes like dirt.” 

“What does that one taste like?” You asked, pointing at the spliff in his hand. He shrugged.

“Hard to explain. Why, you wanna try it?” He asked with a soft grin. Your face felt like it was on fire, hiding half of it in his chest and shrugging with one shoulder. 

“I mean…kinda.” You confessed. Suguru tried to figure out when Halloween passed and Christmas came, because normally a gift like this required a Christmas miracle to make happen. He handed you the joint, placing it between your thumb and pointer finger. He watched with intense eyes as you brought it up to your face.

“Um, so…Is there anything like, special I’m supposed to do here, or?” You sheepishly asked, and Suguru had to slightly adjust your position on his lap so you didn’t feel his hard on. God you were perfect. A soft innocence clung to you, one even that dirty asshole Keigo couldn’t taint, but Suguru knew he could decimate. 

“Just take a deep breath,” He said, taking your hand and guiding the joint to your lips, “Hold it for a few seconds in your lungs, then let it out.” He instructed. You tried to do what he said, sucking in hard and deep, like you were trying to impress him. Turns out, weed tastes like fire. The smoke barely hit your lungs before the burn burst out from you, lighting an inferno in your throat as you attempted to cough your lungs out. 

“Whoa, slow down there Puff!” He laughed, leaning over and pulling a water bottle from the mini fridge he used as a nightstand. “You’re gonna green out if you keep that up.” He took the joint and opened the bottle for you, watching as you tried to waterboard yourself to sooth your ragged throat. 

“Why do people enjoy that?!” You gasped as you finally came up for air. 

“Normally they don’t try to smoke half a joint in one drag,” He teased you gently, rubbing your back as you shook your head. “Here, let’s try a softer approach, okay?”

“Okay…” You muttered hesitantly. You hated that burn, but you were curious what he had in mind to make it gentler. You watched him bring the joint to his own lips, taking a deep breath before balancing the joint on one of the soda cans. He turned your head to face him. 

You didn’t even realize what was happening until his mouth was on yours, soft and sweet, coaxing your lips to part. Despite your better judgment, you leaned into the kiss, opening your mouth for him, letting the smoke pour from his lungs and into yours. He was right, it was softer this time. The burn was mellowed from him taking it in first, giving you room to taste the earthy- almost piney flavor of the weed. You were able to hold it in your lungs longer this time, if for no other reason than because the kiss forced you too. 

As he pulled back, you blew out the gray fumes, coughing a little, but not nearly as much as you did last time. Oh, okay, you got it now. “See?” He purred as he watched you watch the smoke, “You’re token’ like a pro now.”

“I feel light headed,” You confessed as you leaned into him, “And heavy.” He was a little shocked it was already starting to hit you, but then again, you probably didn’t have a lot of experience with…well anything.

“Makes sense. It’s an Indica strain.” He informed you as he repositioned you in his lap, pressing your back to his chest. 

“What does that mean?” You asked as you watched him pick up the almost dead joint again.

“It just means it mellows you out,” He gave the short version, not really having the time or the patience to give you a thorough run down of cannabis strains. At least not right now. “Want to try the joint again?” He asked. You shook your head.

“Absolutely not.” You said, not wanting to feel your lungs explode again. 

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He said as he took another puff off the joint, killing it this time and shoving it into the ashtray formerly known as soda can. He leaned down and pressed another kiss to you. You focused more on him than the smoke this time. On the way his lips moved hungrily against yours, on the way you could taste vodka and redbull on his tongue-subtle under the taste of weed. On the way his hand found the hem of your dress, teasing it in between his fingers before massaging your inner thigh. 

“Sug,” You giggled as you let the burning smoke out, squirming under his touch and pushing yourself further into his lap to try and make some distance between your skin and his hand, “What are you doing?”

“I’m just trying to make you feel good Sweetheart,” He purred, “What, did Keigo not touch you like this?” That had more edge to it than he intended, not that you noticed.

“No, he didn’t.” You admitted with a chuckle. Apparently you got the giggles when high. Your little confession went straight to Suguru’s cock though. He knew you were a good girl, saving yourself for him even before you knew you were his. 

“Probably for the best.” He laughed, moving his hand further up your inner thigh, making you gasp slightly. “He probably wouldn’t even know what to do once he got your panties down.” He huffed, “Or worse, bust in ten seconds and leave you unsatisfied.”

“Sug,” You sighed, having so much to say but not enough brain function to say it. He felt your thighs tremble under his hand and his heartbeat speed up with it. He had to have you or he was going to lose his mind. “Be nice…” You mumbled.

“And why should I be?” He asked, hand now slipping under your incredibly short dress, touching you in places you had never been touched before. “He wasn’t nice to you. I’d take such good care of you baby…” His lips were on your neck now, sending rolling waves of electricity down the column of your spine. You pressed your thighs together, unwittingly trapping his hand there and doing yourself no favors. You could feel yourself getting uncomfortably wet.

“Promise?..” You muttered. He had been sweet to you these last few months, and he had been actively pursuing you for this long- maybe Shoko was wrong this time. 

“Swear.” He whispered into your neck before kissing it with a force, surly leaving a purple bruise in his wake. “Let me show you…” He said as his other hand came up to massage your right breast. You took a deep breath, trying to think through what was happening and the consequences of your actions. You didn’t get very far. All you could think about was the way your buzzing skin reacted to his warm touch, and the anticipation building in between your legs. Your body had no idea how to handle all of this brand new stimulation. 

You took a deep breath, then nodded. “Okay.” You whimpered as you let your legs fall open for him. Suguru didn’t hesitate to drag a thick finger along your clothed slit, making you hiss and bite your lip.

“You like that Doll?” He asked, pushing your panties to the side and sliding two fingers in between your folds, brushing past the nub of nerves he found there. Pleasure jolted from the light touch, electrifying you and making you buck your hips into him for more. You nodded earnestly, desperate to explore this new sensation.  “Talk to me beautiful.” he warned. 

“Yes…” You gasped, melting into his broad chest as he ran two fingers over your sex, gracing your clit yet again.

“Want to feel even better?”  He purred and you nodded.

“Uh huh…” Your body tensed, your walls clenching as he bullied two fingers into you, trying to push out the sudden intrusion. He groaned as he felt you tremble around his digits, mouth watering at the thought of feeling it around his cock. He bucked his hips up into you, not bothering to hide the hard on you gave him anymore.

You moaned, breathing deep as you tried to adjust to the new feeling. Pleasure exploded in you as he curled his fingers up, touching your g-spot with a precision you could never manage. “You’re soaked baby girl,” He hummed as he worked his fingers inside of you, pressing his palm to your clit, moving in time and intensifying everything you felt. “Is all of this for me Doll?”

“Geto…” You moaned, your pretty sighs being music to his ears as you lazily rolled your hips in time with his fingers. Pleasure flooded your system, combining with your buzzing, heavy skin and light head to create a sensation that left you floating in the ninth dimension. You felt your stomach tighten in anticipation, and your legs start to tremble. You lugged your hand up to the back of his head, tangling your fingers into his long hair for support. 

“You sound so pretty when you say my name…” He moaned, leaving a trail of his marks down your neck, obvious evidence that you were his and his alone. 

“Geto, I’m-” You whined softly as you felt a wave of euphoria roll through your body as the pressure came to a tipping point. You looked up at him with wide desperate eyes and whined, feeling the electricity bubble and pop inside of you threatening to explode.

“Cum for me sweetheart,” He groaned, coaxing your climax out of you with every stroke of his fingers, “Cum all over me.” It was like your body was under some sort of spell, forced to act upon his will. The pressure finally exploding inside of you, sending a surge of ecstasy and fire through your body, hitting you with intense wave after wave of bliss. Your legs trembled from the intensity of it as you tried to catch your breath. Your hands fell from his hair and to his sides, digging your nails into Suguru as you desperately tried to ground yourself.

“You’re so fucking pretty when you cum, do you know that?” He hummed, removing his fingers from your cunt and placing them in your mouth. You got the hint, sucking them clean with earnest. His breath caught in his throat as you did, your eagerness catching him kinda off guard. He took his digits out of your mouth. You felt Suguru push you forward, using one hand to keep you from folding in half and the other to pull the zipper of your costume down. You’re pretty sure he unhooked your bra while he was back there, too. 

From there it wasn’t hard for him to lay you on the bed and pull the strapless dress off of you. You whined softly as he pulled your bra off your chest. You tried to lift a hand up to undress him, but your body felt so heavy it was hard to move. He caught your hand and pressed a kiss to your wrist.

“Let me take care of you Sweetheart,” He winked, “You just relax.” He rested your hand on your chest before ripping off his cheap flannel and tattered thrift store jeans. He was back in between your legs before you could fully process what was happening. You felt your mouth dry at the sight. Or maybe it was another side effect of the weed. Either way, he looked like a Greek god. 

His long, normally perfect hair was messy, frizzy and sweat stuck to his face. His honey brown eyes were dark with carnal desire. His thick cock was standing at full alert, angry and already dripping against his abs. The sight of it made your stomach explode with nerves, and your chest tightened as you realized he planned to shove all of that into you.

“S’ big..” You slurred, shaking your head. He chuckled softly, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Awe, thanks sweetheart.”

“It’s not gonna fit Geto...” You whimpered to him, “Not for the first time..” Awe, you were so cute, it almost made Suguru’s heart skip a beat. Almost. More than anything else, the innocence in your watery red eyes coupled with your kiss swollen lips made him all the more eager to prove you wrong. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll fit,” He assured you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. Of course he was going to fit, you were made for him. He pulled your hips to his, massaging your hips with his thumbs as he lined you up. He sunk his hips in and-

Oh Fuck.

Your cunt was more intoxicating than a shot of heroin straight into the bloodstream. You were warm and soft, velvety walls contracting around him and pulling him impossibly deep. Your soft whines as your thighs wrapped around him, trying to ground yourself and pull him closer all at the same time was better than opium. Fuck drugs, nothing was ever going to top this. 

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re perfect.” He groaned into your ear, pulling back and brushing against your sweet spot so perfectly. You whined under him, your nails found his back and clawed into him, leaving scarlet crescent moons in his back as evidence of your presence in his bed. You had never felt so full and perfectly stretched at the same time. A fire split you down the middle, burning away the pain and leaving only an intense pleasure in its wake, one you knew no toy would ever be able to replicate. 

His blunt nails bruised your hips as he fought to stay still, trying to respect that this was your first time. You fucked that up though with a soft buck of your hips, silently giving him the green light to move. And move he did, desperately chasing his high as he dragged his cock in and out of your weeping cunt. You watched as his eyes glazed over and his face flushed, aiming every thrust of his hips to perfectly hit your g-spot and pull another sangria sweet moan from your mouth.

Geto had imagined what your pussy would feel like before. Countless times late at night, with his shirt between his teeth as he wished his hand was you. A few times with girls who looked kinda like you at a party, where half way through he’d have to shove her face in the pillow, and close his eyes to see your face. Hell, he had even imagined it a few times when he was drunkenly fucking Satoru’s throat. None of it could even come close to the euphoria he got from the actual thing. 

He was convinced your pussy was actually made for him. The way your walls perfectly fit him, warm and weeping, begging him to fuck you. His pace was brutally set, every thrust in making you flutter around him and his spine shiver. He wasn’t going to last nearly as long as he wanted and that thought was driving him mad.

“Fuck, pretty girl, you were made for me,” He slurred softly into your ear, “You feel so fucking amazing, so good. I knew you had a slut in you,” He huffed a soft chuckle, “And it’s all for me, isn’t it Doll? Who else could make you feel this good?”

“No one, all yours..” You moaned, trying to keep up with him, but faltering as you fought against wave after wave after wave of euphoria crashing into your senses. Your nervous system was fried beyond belief at this point, asking you to speak was just inhumane.

“Atta girl,” He praised as his hand reached down to massage your clit, setting even more fireworks off inside of your veins and behind your eyes. He wanted you- No, he needed you, carnally. Something inside him wasn’t going to be able to function anymore if he didn’t have you by his side. He could feel the chemicals in his brain reworking themselves in real time, his body flushed and buzzed with desire. The world could be crumbling around the two of your right now and he doubted he’d even notice. 

The coil that was forming inside of you was tightening at an alarming rate, your pussy already sensitive from coming once before. Your body reacted to Suguru in ways it hadn’t reacted to anything or anyone before, and it left you feeling like you were on fire as you got lost in the feelings between your legs. You felt your muscles tighten and contract, and you tried to warn him, you truly did. 

Before you could even open your mouth to form the words though, the coil snapped, opening the floodgates to a sea of pleasure that overrode any of your higher cognitive power. It was like lightning had struck, your buzzing body being electrocuted to life as dopamine and ecstasy exploded out of your brain and into your nervous system, leaving you shaking and trembling as (you think) you yelled out his name.

Suguru didn’t let up for even a second, watching the way your face contorted and scrunched in pleasure. It was an image he wanted in his mind for the rest of time. “‘M gonna cum,” He huffed, trying to find his own ability to speak, “‘gonna cum so hard, let me cum inside, baby. Please, please, let me have you...” You whined almost pathetically under him, the pleasure from your ongoing orgasm becoming almost painful with Geto’s refusal to let up. His hand finally left your clit, trying to find stability on the pillow to try and brace himself for his own oncoming high.

Only for you to intertwine your fingers with his. Letting him press your hand into the cushion under your head, your angelic doe eyes filled with pleasure induced tears and lust and what he wanted to believe was love, met his own. His eyes, filled with need and desire, and unadulterated adoration. Your lips quivered when they parted.

“S-Suguru…” You whimpered softly.

He came the hardest that he had ever cum in his life. Right then and there, deep inside you. He had to throw his head down and bite your shoulder to keep the rest of this party from hearing the expletives that spewed from his mouth, mixed with your name and words of praise. He was thankful even now he could hear the music from the festivities, hopefully none of them heard the two of you together. Those sounds were only for him.

He was breathing hard, but not nearly as hard as you. He barely kept himself from collapsing on top of you. “You still with me Sweetheart?” 

“Yeah…I’m with you…” You nodded out with a soft nod. He forced himself to pull out, and you wanted to bite him for doing it. You went from feeling full and complete to more empty than you ever had in your life, and you hated it. He hummed softly as he collapsed next to you, and pulled you tight against his chest. “I’m so tired..” You muttered.

He kissed your forehead. “Then get some sleep, Doll. I got you.” He assured you as he cuddled up next to you, feeling particularly tired himself.

“You’re gonna leave…” You whimpered, regret started to seep in as you remembered what kept you from ever doing this in the first place. Suguru adamantly shook his head, gently pulling your head up to look him in the eyes.

“No baby, I promise. I’m not going anywhere.” And for as many times as he had used that line in the past, for the first time in his entire life, he truly thought meant it. 

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・ Taglist ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

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[fluentmoviequoter]

Let Me Help

Requested Here!

Pairing: Dominique Luca x fostered!SWAT!fem!reader

Summary: When Los Angeles is hit with a freak cold front and your apartment loses heat, you don't ask for help. Luca sees how sick you are and pays you a visit which ends with him taking you back to his house to heal.

Warnings: reader was a foster kid, angst, sickness (pneumonia), fluff and comfort! there's also several Batman references. oops.

Word Count: 2.6k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Luca Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

In hindsight, becoming a member of S.W.A.T. may have been a mistake. Not because you don’t enjoy the work or get along with your team but because your past makes certain things hard for you. Growing up in the foster system is a lot of things, and it caused you to be incredibly self-reliant. You learned to be responsible and take care of yourself at a very early age. More than that, you were led to believe that no one would ever want to help you. So, now that you are an adult, you find it hard to ask for help. No matter who it is, asking for assistance or backup is not easy, which makes it hard to be a member of 20-David sometimes.

When you’re in the field, you can switch that part of your brain off, and become a S.W.A.T. officer rather than a foster kid. But the moment you get back to HQ and need your teammates’ help, the words seem to disappear, and you forget how to ask people to be there for you, even those closest to you.

Joining 20-David, however, saved your life. Before S.W.A.T., you were, for the most part, alone and lost. They gave you a home, a family, and everything else you never had before. While every team member cares about you, Luca shows you what it is like to be loved and appreciated.

✯✯✯✯✯

“It’s freezing out there,” Hondo complains as he enters HQ.

“Coldest winter in history according to the news,” Street replies. “Which means desperate, cold people and more calls for us. Any chance this is like Batman, and Alfred can make us special winter uniforms before the first one?”

“Sure,” you answer. “I’m sure that’s precisely what Hicks is doing right now.”

“What am I doing?” he asks as he rounds a corner.

“Nothing,” you and Street answer together.

“Alfred,” Street whispers to you.

You press your lips together to keep yourself from laughing while suppressing a shiver. It is certainly cold, and the heat in your apartment complex went out in the middle of the night. Most people then left and found somewhere else to stay, but hotels are booked, and you can’t find the right time or words to ask your team to lend you a hand or a place to stay.

“Sorry I’m late,” Luca says as he joins your side.

He rubs his hands together to warm up and smiles at you. Hicks gives you information on a fugitive warrant and pulls up a blueprint of the man’s house. There are several points of entry, but the man knows how to barricade all of them, so your team will have to take a unique approach.

“Cut the power and wait for him to get cold,” Deacon suggests.

“Man, what do you have to complain about?” Hondo asks. “You’ve got a wife and four kids to keep you warm.”

“Really?” Hicks asks. “You wanna bring up body heat, playboy?”

You chuckle and stick your hands farther into your pockets. Luca shakes his head beside you before lowering his voice to ask how you are.

“I’m alright. Ready for sunny Los Angeles to get sunny again,” you answer. “What about you?”

“I’d have to say the same. If you want to come over for my world-famous hot chocolate tonight, feel free,” Luca offers.

“Hot chocolate?” Street asks.

“That got his attention better than I ever have,” Hicks grumbles.

“Luca’s hot chocolate is like Christmas and happiness and pure warmth in a cup. And I do pay attention to you, Commander, but my eyelids are frozen shut.”

“Just, go execute the warrant and get back. It’s going to be a long week with this cold front,” Hicks interjects.

“Yes, sir,” Hondo replies. “Let’s roll.”

When you open your locker and realize you forgot your second long-sleeved t-shirt at home, you lean your head against the locker door.

“Here,” Luca says as he extends a jacket to you. “It’s an old one, but I accidentally picked up both.”

“I can’t accept that,” you begin.

“I don’t need it. Seriously, I’ll feel better knowing you’re warm. Work with me?”

Luca smiles, and you accept the jacket with a smile. It’s warm and smells like Luca’s cologne, so, once it’s on, you regret arguing against it. If you could live in this jacket, you would.

“We got this,” Luca reminds you as he walks by your side to Black Betty.

✯✯✯✯✯

The following morning, when your alarm goes off, you feel like you can’t wake up. Your apartment is still without heat, and the permeating cold sucks the energy out of you. When you finally pry your eyes open, you remember that you are still wearing Luca’s jacket, and that gives you the surge of energy you need to get out of bed and get ready. You’ve been sleeping in too many layers, and with each one you strip off, you feel the cold settle further into you. Your joints are stiff, your nose is runny, and you can’t shake the tiredness caused by the dropping temperature. Something needs to change, but you don’t know how to fix it. There has to be a trick to surviving this without help… if only you knew what it was.

In the warm locker room, you scroll through your phone in a sad attempt to find a hotel or rental house you can afford. They’re all booked through the end of the week or ridiculously overpriced, so you turn the phone off and lean back against the bench.

“How are you?” Luca asks when he enters. “The jacket looks good on you.”

“Oh, do you need it back?” You sit up as you ask, but Luca smiles and waves you off.

“No, keep it as long as you want. Can’t remember the last time I wore it. Everything okay on your side of town? Some of the buildings in my neighborhood lost heat during the night.”

You shake your head as you prepare to lie. “Everything’s good.”

Luca nods but glances over when you sniff. The cold can be blamed for some of what is happening in Los Angeles right now, but Luca suspects there is something that you aren’t telling him. He’s repeatedly told you he’s here for you, but Street explained that foster kids aren’t great at reaching out, no matter how close someone is. So, Luca will wait for you to come to him, and his arms will be open when you do.

✯✯✯✯✯

By the end of the week, you are miserable. The cold front has stalled, so meteorologists have little idea about when it will warm up again, and your apartment is getting colder every day. You’ve been able to sleep despite the conditions, but each morning, waking up is harder than the day before. You’re constantly tired, and your sniffles worsen, becoming an ache in your chest. The joint pain has worsened, and while it eases at work, it only intensifies each night you return home.

Luca keeps a close eye on you and can tell you’re tired, but he doesn’t want to push you to talk. If he could convince you to tell Street what's up, maybe you’d be more open, he thinks. You interrupt his internal debate with a deep cough. It rattles your chest and hurts your body as it escapes.

“That does not sound good,” Luca says as he turns toward you.

You’re shivering and can barely keep your eyes open, but you shake your head and reply, “I’m good. The cold is just bothering my allergies, I think.”

Hondo yells for you, and you stand quickly, ignoring the pain as you do so. Luca watches you go and grows more concerned for you. He asks Deacon if he’s noticed you acting differently and Deacon immediately answers that he is nearly certain you are getting sick. They both know you won’t tell anyone, preferring to risk your safety at work rather than asking for assistance. It’s part of your personality, even if it worries them.

Out of stubbornness and not recognizing that your team is worried about your well-being, you brush off their questions and concerns about your health. You’ve been living in the cold for nearly a week now, and you are sure the heat will be fixed soon (even if you have to figure out how to repair it yourself). So, you return home to a freezing apartment and silently hope you wake up in the morning.

✯✯✯✯✯

Not only do you wake up, but you wake up while it’s still dark out because you’re coughing and shaking. You’re burning up, which is the first of many clues that you are not okay. After picking up your phone, you find Luca’s contact and sit with your finger positioned over the call button. He would happily come to get you and let you rest in his heated house, but when you imagine him answering, you no longer want to admit you need help. So, you get up and slowly get ready before driving to S.W.A.T. HQ. At the least, you can sit in a warm room before your shift starts.

When you enter, Rocker’s team is about to start a training exercise and invite you to join. You have an hour before you have to be in uniform, so you agree, mostly so they don’t get as suspicious as 20-David already is.

At the end of the exercise, you are holding your coughs in and fighting to hide how hard your arms and hands are shaking. You feel terrible, and anyone who looks at your target from the shooting range will be able to see that it’s affecting your work.

You don’t notice Luca standing at the edge of the rink, and when Rocker knocks you to the mat with a single hit, he jumps onto the mat beside you.

“Hey,” he calls as he gestures for Rocker to step back.

His words don’t reach your ears over your coughing, but you see him and force yourself to calm down. Luca and Rocker stand over you, clearly concerned, and you smile as you accept their help.

“I’m fine,” you promise. “Just wanted to see if Rocker would pull his punches for a girl.”

“The fist of justice is unisex,” Rocker replies sarcastically.

“You and Street should have a Batman marathon,” you reply as you follow Luca to the locker room.

“I’m just going to be direct,” Luca begins once you’re alone. “I’m really worried about you.”

“Luca, I’m just not doing well with the cold. I’ll be fine, though. I appreciate the concern, but it’s unnecessary.”

You stand, and Luca says your name. Stopping, you can’t decide if you want to let go and tell him everything or push him away like you normally do.

“Luca, I am fine.”

“You clearly are not.”

“I know that you care, but leave it alone, Luca.”

You walk away before he responds. As you pass Deacon, you realize that Luca touched your skin, so he probably suspects you have a fever. However, your conversation with Luca makes you feel worse, so you decide to power through the day and then call your landlord about your heater. Again.

✯✯✯✯✯

Luca watches you leave the minute your shift is over. You don’t change or wash up, and he decides that he can’t leave it, or you, alone any longer. As he drives to your apartment, Luca plans to remind you that you need to rest and take care of yourself, especially in this weather. He sees a drugstore and stops quickly to gather a few things he thinks may help you feel better. Maybe you’ll surprise him by accepting his offer to help you care for yourself.

When Luca pulls into the parking lot of your apartment, he’s surprised to find it nearly empty. He parks behind your car and rushes to your door. His concern grows with each moment he waits for your answer.

✯✯✯✯✯

You continue to shiver painfully despite being dressed in your tactical uniform, plus several sweatshirts, Luca’s jacket, and a blanket around your shoulders. Someone knocks on your door, and the only reason you force yourself off the bed is out of hope that it is the heat repair guy. When you open the door, you can’t decide to be happy or disappointed that it’s Luca.

Your voice is broken up by your harsh shivers as you ask what he’s doing there. Luca immediately feels how cold your apartment is and pushes inside. He sets a plastic bag on your counter before walking into your bedroom. He moves silently around your home like he belongs there and gathers your things as he goes.

“What are you doing?” you ask quietly.

“Are you out of your mind?” Luca replies. Despite the harshness of his question, his voice is soft, if a little annoyed. “How long has your heat been out? You said the cold was getting to you – because you let it in. Living like this is the reason you are sick! You should have told me, any one of us, so that we could help you. My house is always open to you, you know that.”

You get confused watching Luca gather your things while ranting about how you should have told him something. He reprimands you and helps you at the same time, it seems.

“Let’s go,” he says as he puts the bag he brought in your stuffed backpack.

“Where?” you inquire as you pull the blanket tighter around you.

“My house. Someone has to help you overcome the pneumonia you probably have.”

“But-“

“No more buts,” Luca declares. “I’m not asking, babe.”

The pet name catches you off guard, but you take Luca’s offered hand without question. You didn’t ask for help, but accepting it isn’t necessarily easier than asking for it. Once you’re at his house, he makes you comfortable on the couch before bringing you a warm drink and some medicine. His requests are soft-spoken, and you obey wordlessly.

“Thank you,” you murmur when he finally sits beside you.

Luca shakes his head and clenches his jaw quickly. “I’ll always be here to help you. I enjoy protecting you, caring for you, all of it. But you have to stop acting like it’s an imposition.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being sappy or are just really annoyed with me.”

“Both!” Luca exclaims. “Look, I can understand being independent to a degree, but living like that could have been so much worse than this, and this is bad.”

You nod and look down at the blanket. “I have trouble asking for help,” you admit. “Growing up, I didn’t have people I could ask for help. The few that I did ask wouldn’t help me, so I just learned to do everything by myself. Finding the words, the opportunity to ask… it’s hard.”

Luca’s eyes soften as he lays his hands over yours. “I promise that I will always be here. I will always be ready, able, and willing to help you. I want to help you because I care about you.”

“Why am I so important?” you whisper as you look into his eyes.

Luca licks his lips before deciding to tell you a version of the truth. “Because I care about you. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone before.”

He says care, but he thinks love. Maybe after he’s gotten you healthy again, you can have an open and honest conversation with one another. For now, though, you close your eyes and lean against his shoulder, warm and happy. 

“I care about you, too. More than I should,” you mumble against Luca's shirt before falling asleep.

Luca smiles and tugs the blanket tighter around your shoulders before kissing your forehead. He will help you until he can’t help you anymore and love every moment of it, he thinks.

[br-disaster]

Nie Mingjue's Fatal Journey crying scenes appreciation post

There's no way I wouldn't make this post, but it ended up way longer than I intended.

Fighting with Huaisang

When is this man not tearing up?

This fight is so important for Huaisang's character development and the movie's themes, with Huaisang being ready to challenge and question the Nie ways and Mingjue doing his best to uphold those traditions and keep the peace through the only way he knows how.

But it's still hard to be challenged like this and to face the possibility that everything you've ever known might not be right, actually.

And this gif specifically is from the moment Huaisang questions if Mingjue even knows what they're there to fight and what this supposed great evil that will come to Qinghe if they fail to balance their blades even is. Mingjue has no answer, of course, I suppose he was only taught this and never had reason to question it.

But Huaisang is also talking about the disciples they already 'lost' at this point of the movie, and he says something along the lines of " You don't know anything, you only know how to bring them here to die" and that does it. Because it's both "you can't follow these rules blindly when they rely on sacrificing people" and "you've changed and I don't trust your judgement on these matters anymore".

And as he says it, Mingjue looks at their disciples and he sees the puppets for a moment. And Huaisang just questioned if the other disciples were really attacked by puppets.

So that's a big moment and Huaisang is right, of course, but he doesn't have a confirmation that this is the result of Mingjue's health deterioration yet, so he keeps pushing. And Mingjue doesn't really have a counter argument because he knows what's going on with him, but it must be very scary to hear it from the person you care about the most and realize just how much you're being affected.

(Actually, Mingjue has one counter argument and that is "Well, I am at least trying to do something while you're painting and living a carefree life", and he's not wrong either. Huaisang is right and rightfully harsh, but this is the first time he's being confronted with these difficult choices and all their family history. He can reflect on and question it, but his brother has been meking those hard decisions since he was 14, when did he ever had a break to question and change things?)

Which leads us to

The Talk

After seeing his brother sacrifice himself for him at the bridge, and then seeing Mingjue be so vulnerable and lost, that anger from their fight is gone. They can meet in the middle with "You are right, I wasn't thinking straight, this is not a long term solution and I've failed at changing our ways" and "It's not your fault, you did everything you could but you're not responsible for this situation" and it's very beautiful and heartbreaking.

Mingjue is so remorseful, both because he has condemned Huaisang to die with him and because he feels like he failed everyone and everything (even if he doesn't seem to know what he could have done differently to avoid all this).

And Huaisang's reaction in this scene is so calm it made me think this Huaisang is somewhat used to his brother displaying vulnerability around him. This isn't book NMJ with all his victories, this isn't a man who never let the Unclean Realm be conquered and who could afford to keep Huaisang far away from the war. This is a man who was attacked and subdued in his own home, who had to send Huaisang to the hands of the people who killed their father.

This Huaisang doesn't have reasons to see Mingjue as this unmovable force, he has seen Mingjue hurt and threatened and fearful; and he's now seeing him remorseful and defeated.

(I'm sure Mingjue telling Huaisang about the fact that he's dying and admiting his mistakes and insecurities is something new, especially considering their previous fight, but this Huaisang doesn't take it as a shock, because he knows his brother is only human and there's only so much he can handle. He even, like, explicitly says this)

And so he assumes this calm, reassuring and empathetic posture, because that's what his brother is asking for. And it's the most beautiful thing, Huaisang has so much love for him, so much empathy. And this is Mingjue's reaction to his brother's reassurance that it's okay if they have to die there:

I'm sure Huaisang is still processing Mingjue's "I only forced you to practice because I'll die soon", but he's so good at reassuring his brother.

Because Mingjue just told him "I am dying and I'll go as a failure" and Huaisang insisted "None of this is your fault and you did everything you could and more, and if I have to die here with you today, I don't regret a thing, and you shouldn't either".

There's no despair or anger that his brother is only telling him this now, there's only understanding and acceptance and so much love and they really knew what they were doing with this movie.

His people love him

Mingjue is so moved. He just admitted to Huaisang that he's not in peace with his accomplishments, or lack thereof; that he feels ashamed to face his ancestors, having done so little.

So I truly believe Mingjue doesn't consider himself worthy of this much trust and support. (And I can't ignore how this is tied to the Nightless City situation, where he led the men who trusted him with their lives to a dangerous situation and couldn't save any of them).

As we see in the confrontation at Jinlintai, that technically happens after this movie, that is still a very sensitive topic.

And here he has his loyal disciples saying they will follow him yet again, despite his previous 'failures'; just like Huaisang was ready to die with him. They have so much trust in him, and the way he's nodding a little here, just like he was nodding when Huaisang reminded him of everything he's done for their sect since their father died, is like he's convincing himself of it. That he can do this and he can do this right this time.

And yet

He fails again. And I don't even think he knows it was him who killed those disciples, like some people say. He doesn't need to because it doesn't matter. His men, who followed him till the end of the world, are dead again. And so is the hope he had of doing this one right thing before he dies.

Yes, he supressed the saber spirit like he had to, but they're still dead, all of them.

He falls apart, how could he not?

At some point I'm sure Huaisang his holding all his weight because he just gives up. There's only so much loss one can handle and that's way too much.

And look at the way Huaisang is watching him as he realizes something inside Mingjue shattered forever.

There's so much pain in this scene, it looks physically taxing and I hope people gave Wang Yizhou a break after he shot this. I know it's his job and he's phenomenal at it, but this has to mess with your head a little.

And hey, it's a Huaisang crying scene as well. CQL Huaisang only really cries twice. First he watches his brother have a mental breakdown in his arms after unknowingly killing his own disciples; and then as he watches his brother qi deviate and die, while unable to do anything to either stop or comfort him.

(And a lot of people said there's no hesitation on Huaisang's part when he rushes to his brother's aid when Mingjue is hurt on this post's notes, and that's true for book Huaisang too, because he runs towards Mingjue as he is qi deviating, gets hurt in the process, and still keeps calling for him, which makes CQL's decision to have JGY holding him back kind of cruel, tbh, there's not a Huaisang who would run from a hurting Mingjue regardless of the risks

But at least we have this scene.)

And that's it, I guess. There's nothing uplifting to say about this, really. He just went through a lot and kept shouldering everything until he couldn't anymore. I just wish book NMJ had gotten to receive the same love and comfort and acceptance from NHS before he died, I wish he had been able to tell his brother what was actually happening, but thats kind of the purpose of this movie, so I'm just very grateful that it exists.

It's like that post says, it didn't change anything but the love was there, you know? That's how this movie feels for me.

[ufcconor]

Come on, baby

Knox x F!Reader

(Y/n) Brandt has a history with her fathers most trustworthy hit man

SMUT SMUT SMUT

Getting the call from Gerald Brandt was a surprise to say the least. “Knox, I need you!” “What do you need?” Gerald screams into the phone, “Knox, my Idiot son is fucking things up!” “I’ll leave right away.” “And Knox, look after (y/n).” Knox pauses, excitement brewing in him. “You know I will.”

~

I see a man walking down the dock to the shitty houseboat named so cleverly “The Boat”. I sit up from my chair, holding onto my hat in the low wind as the boat rocks in the water. “That’s the new bouncer at the roadhouse Ben keeps going on about?” The smirk grows on my lips. My friend meets my gaze, staring at the man as he steps onto the boat and shamelessly begins to work out in the sun. “He’s hot.” I lean on the railing.

I wave my hand towards him as my boat sails by. “Looking good over there!” He stops mid-sit up and waves with a small smile before continuing his set. My friend scoffed with a smile. “I'm assuming you’re taking a trip down to the bar tonight.” I shrug sitting back in my hair and sipping my margarita. “Might be.”

I walk into the bar and scan the scene. The music is upbeat, and the people seem to be calm… for now at least. I allow my eyes to scan the entire place until I see him. Sitting at the bar, and quietly observing. I walk to him and take the seat directly beside him. I smile at the bartender, “Rum and coke please.”

The man beside me smirks as I mindlessly pat my fingers on the bar looking around. I meet his eyes and drop my jaw dramatically. “Well, what are the chances? Hey there handsome.” “My name’s Dalton.” I shake his hand, “(y/n). Nice to see you again. Shirt on this time, but we can work on that.”

Night after night I’d go to the roadhouse and sit with Dalton. Flirting and talking, were all fun. When there was an issue he’d get up, handle it with some sarcastic banter and strong punches, and then he’d be back beside me with a cheeky smile as if nothing happened. I like a man who can handle himself. He was a sweet guy to top it off. He definitely shouldn’t be the one to be here taking care of this matter. He shouldn’t have to be the one to deal with my idiot brother and his schemes.

~

I put six sandwiches on a plate and exit the home to the back patio. “Sandwiches are on the bar!” I yell to the boys as I sit down in a chair, opening my book. Not long after I gained inner peace, a loud collision struck right in front of the house. I tear my shades off as a figure enters. “Who the fuck put those bikes in my way?” I watch as Knox strolls in. “Who the fuck are you?” Clyde asks. Knox raises his hand to his face, “Shh.”

He walks to the bar and praises the leftover sandwiches. “Thank you, God. Sandwiches. I’m fucking famished.” He bites into the bread with a growl.

This can not be happening. I was set on the fact that I would not have to see this asshole ever again. The memories flash so quickly. A day full of shopping. The 4 bottles of wine at the most expensive restaurant in Rome. Romantic walks down the streets. Long nights full of him showering me with endless pleasure.

Moe bursts in quickly, “He knocked all the fucking bikes over!” I roll my eyes going back to my book. I’d rather not be involved in whatever the hell he’s doing. I turn the page in my book trying to focus on the words cascading down the page but I can feel his eyes burning onto my frame. Clyde towers over him. “Now you got a big ass problem, bucko.”

Knox nods, mouth full, “No shit! First off, I’m going to need more than 3 sandwiches.”

“I wasn’t done talking.” Clyde cuts Knox off.

Knox glares at Clyde, meeting his gaze with power. “Actually, that’s where you’re wrong, lad.” He pushes past Clyde and nears my chair. He stands next to me, looking down at me. I put my book down with a huff. Knox smiles, “What darlin’? Not a word for me? Thought you’d be happy to see me.” I stand up, bumping his arm as I walk past him.

Knox plops down in my seat, lounging back. “Aye, baby. Are you going to make me some more sandwiches or what?” I flip him off as I slam the door shut. “Stupid mother fucking Irish asshole.”

I tear my bathing suit off in a rush. Why the fuck has he come here? Something to do with my father no doubt. I step into the shower trying to calm my nerves, trying to burn out the heat that ignites in my core. He always had this effect on me. I can't help but remember the night.

I lay back on the couch, my dress hugged my body tightly. Knox saunters over with another glass of wine for me. “Mhh thank you,” I mumble out. He takes a seat next to me. I lay my legs over his thighs, beginning to look over his entire frame. He was big (no doubt everywhere). I run my foot over his crotch. He narrows his gaze at me. “Nah, lassie. That’s not in the cards for you.” He grabs my ankles putting my motions to a stop. I sigh before standing, rolling the wine into my glass. “I thought you were fun.” I lean down to my phone, putting some music on. I sway my hips, my back facing Knox. I down my glass of wine, turning around and arching my back on the wall. His eyes glued to my frame, his orbs burning into mine. I take a step forward, lowering the zipper of my dress with each step. I stand in front of him, zipper completely down, the dress hanging loosely. I lean down, my hands on his shoulders. “Still not in the cards? Even for me?” Knox chuckles, forcing his eye contact to the wall. “You father would have my ass, baby.”

I stand straight again. “Hm, that’s a shame.” I let the straps of the dress off my shoulders, it cascades down to the marble floor delicately. Only clad in my panties and expensive heels I turn away from him, leaving the dress at his feet.

“Fuckin hell.” He mumbles.

Before I know it I’m tossed onto the bed and Knox is kissing up my body and pampering my exposed breast with kisses and bites.

Soon his fingers pumping deliciously in and out of my heat. I arch up with a loud cry as an orgasm races through me. “There's a good girl."

I splash water onto my face. I can’t allow myself to get tangled in with him again. There’s nothing there but an empty promise. I know the bed will be cold by morning.

I step out of the shower and dry my body with the towel before hanging said towel up on the door. I bent over, flipping my head over to start drying my wet hair.

“I always did adore this side of you, love.”

I shoot up and turn around. “What the fuck!” I snatch my towel off the door and hold it up in front of me. “Get out!” He doesn’t. Instead, he walks closer causing me to back up until I hit the countertop. He places his arms on either side of me, making a chance for an easy escape difficult.

He bites his lip looking at my poorly hidden body. He catches the hem of the towel in his fingers. “Why don’t we catch up?” I look at him with wide eyes and anger boiling in my chest. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Knox sucks in a breath. “Now listen, I know how it looked back then.” I scoff and push him away. He doesn’t fight me and allows me to pass. “Hate to see you go, but I love seeing you walk away, baby.” I enter my bedroom and with one last glance at Knox, I slam the door shut.

~

Ben walks into the back patio and sees Knox sitting in a tanning chair, eating a plate of sandwiches. “I’m sorry, who the fuck are you?” Knox nods, “Hey. I got a message for you. From your father.” He stands facing Ben.

Bem furrows his brow, “A message? My father? And what… What is this “message”?” Knox pops Ben in the nose quickly before tossing his arm over his shoulders. “You’re Ben, right? Jerry’s son?” He chuckles removing himself. Knox admires the house. He points to the pool shed. “This is where I’ll store my stuff. And that master bedroom up there is mine. Move your sister's shit in with mine. You can take her room.” Ben shakes his head, confusion clouds his mind. “What are you talking about? Who are you?”

Knox grabs a golf club. “Your dad says you’ve been fucking things up.” He turns to Ben, who backs away. “He asked me to lend a hand.”

Ben scoffs, “How would my father know? He’s in a prison, rotting in a cell.” “Don’t be silly. Your father has spies everywhere.”

“Well, you can tell my father…” Ben starts but gets cut off by his sister (y/n) coming out. “Where are you going?” She rolls her eyes. “Why do you care?” She takes a step and Ben grabs her arm. Knox straightens up, anger brewing within him. No one gets to touch her.

“Is it the road house? To see your little boyfriend?” (Y/n) rips his arm off, “Believe it or not but I’m actually likable unlike you.” She walks off. “Don’t go to that fucking bar, (y/n)!” She turns around with a smirk. “Or what?” Knox watches her such as predator watches their prey. Fire brewed within his chest at the thought of some other man touching her, touching what he had claimed.

Ben runs his fingers through his hair, frustration existing on his face. “She’s such a pain in my ass.” He turns back to Knox. “I don’t need your fuckin’ help. I have it all under control.”

“No, you don’t.” Knox swings the club, making Ben back away again. “Yes, I have people out there right now… cleaning up this final issue, and that’s all…” Knox ignored Ben’s confident plan. “So, where’s this bouncer asshole?”

~

I enter the road house and move to the corner expecting to see Dalton but to my surprise, he’s nowhere in sight. Laura slides my drink over. “He’s late.” I furrow my brow. “That’s a first.”

An hour later Dalton comes in looking a little disheveled. He sits beside me taking a breath. “Hey.” “Hey, what’s going on?” He shakes his head. “Had a little mix-up with the sheriff.” I cringe internally, “A mix-up?” My brothers doing. Laura leans over conserved. “What are we talkin’ about?”

A surprising guest speaks a few seats away. “Yeah, what are we talking about?” Ben walks over, taking the seat next to me. “Hey, sis. Thought I told you to stay home.” Ben averts his attention from me. “I’m curious to hear what you were gonna tell her, Dalton. I’m Ben Brandt. (Y/n)‘s brother.”

Dalton smirks, “Let me guess. It’s your turn now.” “My turn?” “You know, to threaten me. Tell me to get out of town. Like your buddy, Big Dick.” Ben chuckled. “No. No, I get the impression that you can’t be threatened.

I wish you could be, but… I’d even bribe you if I thought money would work.” Dalton nods, “Really? How much we talking?”

“Ben, can you just fuck off?” He turns to me, anger in his eyes. “(Y/n) doesn’t it make you curious what an outsider like him… thinks he’s doing here.” I roll my eyes. “I don’t know, Ben. Nor do I care. Just get the fuck out of here.”

Ben ignores me again. “So, I guess my question is… Why? Right? It can’t be just some competitive thing, you…you’ve won the fight. You can back off now. But you… you don’t. You just keep… punching and punching and punching. So, why? Why don’t you just stop?” Dalton stays silent causing Ben to exit like a toddler, anger blowing from his ears.

Dalton raises a brow. “Your brother, huh?” “I like to think I’m adopted.” The door opens and Knox strolls in with the bikers behind him. I watch as Knox scans the room making eye contact with me.

Knox strolls around, picking at two separate tables. “Hey, fellas. Looks like you’re havin’ a smashing night!” He swings the golf club smashing every bottle and glass off their table. Knox successfully starts the bar fight and chaos consumes the entire building.

“Dalton! Dalton! Dalton!” Knox screams as he scans the room. I stand up and walk towards him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Knox chuckled, lowering his head, our noses brushing. “A lot of shit. You wanna try to fix me?” His smirk grows.

“Dalton! Dalton!” On-demand, Dalton yells from the top of the steps. “What?” Knox looks over him as if inspecting. He tosses his head back. “This is the guy?” He asks me, I can see jealousy glowing in his eyes. “Leave him alone, Knox.”

He points to Dalton. “You know, I got sent here special. Just for you.” Dalton stays calm, taking a glance around the chaotic scene. “And you brought all your friends with you?” “I thought you might miss havin’ an audience. I was trying to be thoughtful. Like on pay-per-view. 25 quid. Watch me pulp your face!” Panic pumps through my veins. “You can’t fucking do this, Knox.”

Dalton stands a few feet away now. “You know this guy too?” Knox smirks and looks at me, waiting for my answer. “He’s my father’s employee.” Knox places his hand on his chest, acting like his feelings are damaged. “Aww come on, baby. Don’t be like that.“ He takes my chin between his fingers, his face inches from mine. “How do I know that you squeal when having your pussy eaten just, hm? Right here.” Knox sticks his hand down to my clothed crotch and pats my pelvic bone lightly. I gasp and move away from him. The act so bold in a public setting had my cheeks glowing red and a pool between my legs.

Dalton grabs Knox and shoves it away. “Don’t touch her, man.” Knox smiles at Dalton. “Nah, mate. You don’t get to touch her! SHE’S MINE!” Knox swings his club at Dalton hitting him in the stomach, before punching him and starting a brawl between the two.

I follow some of the bikers outside as they file out. “What the fuck was that?” I scream at Dell. “Stop it, (y/n). You know Brandt wants the road house.” I roll my eyes, “a shitty bar? For real?” I turn on my heel to walk back into the bar, but Knox catches my upper arm and pulls me to his car. “Let go of me, Knox.” He opened the passenger door and oh so helpfully assisted me in. “You and me. We’re going to have a little chit-chat.” He fumes. He’s angry. He flies off, tearing up gravel as he speeds out of the lot. He maneuvers through traffic, passing cars at high speed. “If you slow down we won’t live long enough to talk,” Knox smirks at me. “Ah baby, I’ve missed that smart mouth of yours, truly.”

Knox drifts into a lonely dock and slams the door as he gets out. “Let’s go.” Knox strips his shirt and shoes. I step out and lean against the front of the car, the sand damp on my feet.

Knox shakes his finger at me. “This ain’t you. Where’d my girl go?” I glare at him, “Maybe she’s back in Rome where you ditched her two years ago.” Knox, only a couple feet away smiles again. “All that? Baby you know your father had me running around for him.” “You left me alone with no explanation. You dipped that morning and never spoke to me again.” Knox nods, “Yeah, I did. That’s what your father told me to do.” “Yeah, and you always do what he says huh? Like a dog.”

Knox drops his smile. “And what have you been doing? You used to listen like a good girl. Now look at ya. Fucking around with these assholes.”

“Better than you.”

Knox grabs my arm pulling me to him. “Aww, now I see it. You’ve not been fucked real good in a long time. That it?” I raise my hand and slap him across the face. He pauses for a moment before a dark smirk grows across his lips. “There’s my tiger.”

Fuck it. This is toxic as hell.

I wrap my arms around his broad body, attacking his mouth. He holds me up, holding our bodies as close as possible. Our tongues battling, the passion seeping from each other's mouths. The clawing and scratching of our hands. He kisses down my neck, running his tongue over my collarbones. The hot breeze sticks to the moist surface. He pushes me back onto the hood of the car. “I’m going to fuck the brat out of you, but first…” he flips the hem of my dress over my thighs, and separates them. “I need to taste ya.”

He kisses the soft skin of my inner thighs. A drunken state unraveled within me. Knox pulls my panties down, taking a look at my private. He nestled between my thighs, "Such a pretty cunt. How did I ever let you out of my sight?" The praises leaving his mouth caused me to gasp. I am unable to speak, unable to ask if he wanted to do this out here, on the beach, given any surprise visitor. All I could do was moan and arch my back onto the cold surface of the car. My heart was racing, blood rushing, toes being forced to curl.

His tongue brushed through my folds, collecting drops of the hot arousal. He moaned against my cunt, sucked on the pulsing bundle of nerves. “Knox," the call of his name made him chuckle against my skin. I had never known such pleasures besides him. I was already close to letting go, his mouth latching onto my clit, once again leaving me to arch her back off the hood. "Let go for me, darling."

With another breathy moan, I release, eyes rolling back into my head, fingernails about to claw stripes into the pain of the car. He lazily licked my slit for a few more seconds before he pulled away, moving up her body to press a soft kiss to my lips. “Knox, fuck me please," I whined, looking into his eyes, pleading. He smiled and followed my order within seconds.

My legs lay wide open for him to enter and while his hands hold my waist tightly. He shoved himself up my pussy with such an ease.

"You feel perfect, angel. Nothing changed." he moaned, his moves quickened fast. Noises of skin slapping against skin filled the area. "So fucking good" Knox panted in between harsh thrusts. My lower body just perfectly crashed together with his. I was in heaven as I felt myself coming closer and closer to my end. "I'm gonna cum." | whimpered so quietly that he could barely hear it. “You're the only man who can make me feel this good,” I whined, I was all his.

His movements grew slower, and he heavily breathed into my face. “You’re mine, (y/n).” I was so close, my body was burning. I nod breathlessly, “I’m all yours.” Waves of an orgasm beautifully crashed in, and it was only a matter of seconds before I would cum.

"Good girl." Knox panted and I knew he was about to cum. His hand wandered to my clit and circled it at a fast, pleasuring pace. That was it. I felt my orgasm finally coming in and I let out a loud moan. Knox growled into my neck and bit into my shoulder as he came right after me, releasing all of his warm cum inside me. He kept moaning and growling into my skin, both of us exhausted and in a blissful state. His body was limp on mine.

We laughed into each other's faces and after a moment of silence and just looked at each other. He moved over to his car, retrieving a blanket. “What are you doing?” I ask still lying in bliss. He spread the blanket on the sand. “A night under the stars. What do ya say, lass?” He picks me up and lays us down on the soft blanket. His hands went over my back, and it sent shivers down my spine. In this moment the world was perfect.

[little-emerald-snake]

Piercings - Sebastian Sallow X F!MC

🔥 NSFW 🔞 MDNI

Well, I meant to post a request today but I came down with a raging case of strep a few days ago and have been in bed trying to keep my fever down. So instead I’m posting this spicy little number I had pre written.

Warnings: modern college au, hookup app, oral m receiving, protected p-in-v, unprotected p-in-v, first time piercing sex, squirting, experienced Sebastian, gentleman Sebastian

3.2k words

She was supposed to be doing homework, sprawled across her bed while laying on her stomach, head propped on her pillow as she swiped through her tinder account.

Weekends had been boring for her since this semester she’d sworn off of parties to focus more on school. That meant when her roommate that she shared the two bedroom apartment with would be out every weekend while she was stuck at home, missing socializing.

Tonight, her roommate was home seeing as it was Wednesday and they both had classes in the morning. Her roommate was holed up in her room cramming in study time to get ahead before the weekend.

She had tried to focus on getting some studying in but her attention span was on anything but her school work. Instead she combed through profiles of boys who went to her school or lived in her small college town.

Most guys she swiped past without a second glance while others she’d dig into their profile or social media before swiping left or right depending on what they were looking for and if they seemed interesting.

Most profiles blended the same as she swiped and chatted with her matches, attempting to get to know them a bit. None had caught her eye like the man on her screen now though.

Sebastian Sallow

21 - M - 5 miles away

Looking for: casual, maybe long term

About me: I read more books then you’d care to hear me talk about. I study literature and history at HU. I’m a twin. I have a reverse PA piercing. No you can’t see a pic. You can see it when we meet in person 😉

Her eyes widened as she scanned the profile. He seemed to give just enough information that it intrigued her and didn’t come off dickish but not enough so that it would keep her guessing.

She chewed the skin of her lip, swiping through his pictures. He was attractive, a bright smile, curly chocolate brown hair and matching chocolate brown eyes that held something deep.

A picture of him and what she assumed was his twin. They looked similar, her looking smaller than him but a vibrant smile and long beautiful chocolate hair tied up neatly while giving the peace sign to the camera.

Aside from having a relatively nice profile she had to say that a few things stood out more than others. One being that he studied at her university, another being him only looking for something casual, like her, and the final, most interesting part. A reverse Prince Albert piercing.

She’d never seen one in person and never been with a man who’d had one. Or any kind of spicy piercing for that matter. She didn’t know what a reverse PA was so she decided to change tabs and make a quick Google search.

Upon seeing that a reverse PA was the best for g spot stimulation she licked across her bottom lip, returning to his profile. After little debate she swiped yes on him, immediately matching. She smiled, opening the messaging feature to send him a message.

She struggled, typing and deleting the message several times, unhappy with her message each time. She was just about to settle with a simple message when his message pinged. “If you’re interested in getting to know me or meeting up you should text me.” Along with his phone number.

She grinned, copying his number and typing up a message for him. “Hey, we matched on tinder. I’d like to chat and get to know you a bit before we meet up but I’m not opposed to meeting if we vibe well.”

She bit her bottom lip, staring at the screen for a minute before sighing, hitting the button to dim her screen and dropping the phone to the side of her notebook.

She tried to focus back on her school work, rubbing her temples in an attempt to focus. She slightly jumped when the FaceTime ring and his unsaved number popped up on her screen.

Her eyes widened and she jumped up to a sitting position, quickly looking at herself on the screen and pulling loose some strands of hair which were thrown up in a messy bun atop her head.

She groaned at her outfit but shrugged, sliding the call to answer. When those mesmerizing chocolate eyes popped up on screen she smiled immediately which caused him to smile in return. “Hey! I almost thought you wouldn’t answer.”

She bit her bottom lip to nervously hide her shy smile. His voice was rich and smooth. He had a bit of a Scottish lilt which gave her a smattering of butterflies. “Hah, I shouldn’t have honestly. I’m dressed like a slob since I’ve just been working on some assignments.”

He smiled, looking her up and down as far as the screen would let him. “Nonsense, you look great. Plus I’d rather you be cozy instead of trying to doll up and impress me. I’m a fan of women in their natural state.”

She practically swooned, sliding a loose piece of hair behind her ear and admiring what she could see of him through the screen. “That’s refreshing to hear. It’s also refreshing to see you look exactly like your pics. And you respond like a human instead of immediately asking when we can meet.”

He chuckled, looking off somewhere behind his phone for a moment. “I mean I’d love to meet up with you but I’m with you on this one. I’d like to see if we mesh well first. So, you study at HU as well?”

She nodded, lifting her notebook to show him her work. “Yes I sure do. I see that you study literature and history. Is that anything to do with your interest in reading?”

He nodded, pulling up a thick tome that looked nothing like the romance novels or fanfictions she usually read in her spare time. “Yes, you’d be correct. I really enjoy taking in knowledge via reading. There’s so much to learn from different texts. I could go on forever but I refuse to bore you to death before I get a chance to see that pretty face in person.”

She giggled at that, adjusting her phone angle a bit for better lighting. “I appreciate it! I still have way to much to do in life to die now. Especially boredom being the cause. I’m experiencing enough of that as is.”

He tilted his head in curiosity. “Oh? Don’t do much outside of class or something else?”

She pouted. “Exactly that. I took this semester off of going to parties so I’d have more time for studying and to try and cut back on drinking. I think it’s a healthy choice and so far it feels pretty good. How about you? Do you party much?”

He shook his head, looking genuinely interested in her explanation. “Not really. I’m not the biggest socializer but I do have a small group of friends I like to hang out with here and there. But no big parties or anything like that. I think taking time to focus on your studies is an incredibly important choice. As well as not drinking for your health. It’s admirable.”

She smiled, glad he didn’t think she was lame and that he was already being so supportive of her. They ended up chatting back and forth for a while longer before he said he’d have to go but he was really interested in talking more.

She’d quickly promised to text him and keep in touch before they said goodbye and hung up. When he winked at her through the camera before hanging up she had a mad swarm of butterflies in her stomach.

Her phone pinged with a message and she laughed after reading it. “Don’t think about me too long or you won’t get any studying done tonight, Darling.”

She silenced her phone and made a better attempt at studying the rest of the night. A couple hours later she finally was satisfied with what she’d gotten done, setting aside her work and picking up her phone again. “I still thought about you, but I managed to get a good chunk of my work done, thankfully.”

She smiled when his response was immediate. “Is that so? What exactly about me was occupying that pretty head?”

Heat rose in her stomach as she bit her lip. Was he being flirty or something more. She decided to take a small risk. “Do you really want to know or should I make something up?”

Again, the response was immediate which had her heart beating faster in her chest. “Tell me the truth. I can take it.”

She bit harder into her lip, typing the message as fast as her fingers would move over the letters. “I was thinking about your piercing. Just about why you may have it. Is it for aesthetics or something else?”

This time the response wasn’t as quick and she spent the time waiting for the bubble that he was typing to pop up biting at her nail. “Well I got it because I wanted it. But this specific one is meant for pleasure for a companion of the female anatomy. So both technically. I read about how it could enhance pleasure and figured ‘who wouldn't want that?’ So I got it done.”

She grinned, typing out a response. “And? What do the yelp reviews say?”

He responded quicker than any she’s seen tonight. “I’ve had 0 complaints. But maybe you’d like to give a well thought out review?”

She practically melted against her bed. Imaging the positioning of where that piercing would be was driving her crazy. “I mean if you’re down. I have the apartment to myself this Saturday if you’d want to come hang out? I know it’s a little soon but, for the sake of the review.”

He responded immediately again which had her heart racing. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Although I’d like to meet up in public first. Maybe at the coffee shop on campus tomorrow morning?”

They’d arranged to meet after her first class and before her second one, agreeing to work out details and talk some more then.

-

Meeting him was great. He was smart and charming in person. A total heartthrob with those chocolate puppy dog eyes.

Now it was the weekend and after texting about anything from spicy teasing to a casual conversation, she was more than ready for him to come over.

She’d let her roommate know she planned to have company for the evening and after getting the all clear that she was gone she sent the text, inviting him over.

When he’d arrived she gave him a small tour, offering him a soda before they moved to her room. The conversation flowed nicely. Better than she could have imagined. They soon got onto the topic of his piercing and although she’d tried not to be eager she definitely had decided that if he was down she wanted to feel what that piercing would be like.

Her chance came when she mentioned it again offhandedly and he’d moved forward, placing a hand on the back of her neck, moving in like he was going to kiss her. Instead he leaned in, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “You really want to feel it, don’t you? I feel like secretly it’s all you can think about.”

She couldn’t hide it. She really did want to, so she nodded. It was silly but having talked with him over the few days had really helped her focus as well as given her a libido she hadn’t felt in ages.

He reached down, working the button of her pants open while gently nipping and kissing at her neck. Nothing intense enough to leave a mark, just enough to get her going.

Not that she needed it. She’d been wet since she first saw him at her door, dressed all in black with a small bouquet of colorful flowers in hand.

He slid his hand into her pants, rubbing against her panties with maddening accuracy. The man really knew what he was doing which excited her.

Soon they’d finally moved along, her eyes watching with intensity as he slid his boxers down, letting his erection spring free. The silver jewelry glinted from the head of his thickness.

She licked her lips looking up at him. He nodded his approval, with a half smile. “I’m clean, in all meanings of the word if you’re thinking of doing what I think you are. Just be careful with the jewelry on your teeth. I don’t want you chipping a tooth.”

She nodded, sprawling between his legs and taking his girth in her hand. She gripped his base firmly, sliding the head past her lips, careful of the metal bar near her teeth.

She explored it with her tongue, getting accustomed to the feel of the metal in her mouth as well as laving her tongue over his head generously. He responded in kind, groaning from farther up the bed where his head rested on her pillows.

She bobbed her head, finding a solid rhythm in sucking him. He groaned and panted from above her, hands fisting her blanket as he watched her with a lustful expression.

After letting her get the hang of it for a while he nudged her, urging her off. She was momentarily worried till he asked her to lie down and he moved between her legs, ready to return the favor. “I-I don’t really want head. I-I’m wet enough honestly if you just want to get to it.”

His eyes widened but he nodded, reaching for his black jeans to pull a condom from his wallet. She watched eagerly as he rolled it on swiftly and moved over her. She spread her legs for him and he groaned, lining up with her soaking entrance. “Fuck. You’re so fucking soaked from sucking my cock. That’s the hottest non verbal compliment I’ve ever received.”

She went red, biting into her lip as he slid in with hardly any resistance. He started slow, letting her get used to the feeling. She could already feel the barbell creating a lovely pressure inside her against the top wall of her. It wasn’t as intense as she’d hoped for but she imagined that was from the condom.

His face was locked on hers, searching for any sign of pleasure or discomfort. She met his look with a smile, pulling him in closer and letting a soft moan free when he slid in deeper in response.

The ball of the piercing brushed right against the wall of her g spot, eliciting a gasp from her. Sebastian groaned, picking up his pace and caging in her head with his arms as he worked himself in and out of her smoothly. “You feel incredible.”

She gave a breathy laugh followed by a soft moan. “So do you, t-the piercing really does…mm…feel nice. I-it’s not as intense as I thought but still very nice.”

His eyes met hers and he slowed his hips. ��It’s not that good for you is it? Do you want to stop or…”

She shook her head, feeling guilty for not being as responsive as he would have liked. Her hands wrapped around his biceps. “N-no! It’s fine really. I’m just not used to condoms is all. It’s still good I promise. Sorry.”

He bit the skin of his lip, looking down between them in contemplation. “Are you…on the pill? If you are and if you swear you’re clean than I’ll fuck you raw…”

Her eyes widened and she nodded, face reddening at how eager she was to feel him bare. “I promise we’re good. I-I’m sorry I’m so eager…I’m just excited. I-I want to be able to give you an honest review.”

He chuckled, sliding out and pulling the condom off and tossing it into her trash can. “No it’s okay. I get it. I only use them if it hasn’t been discussed previously and as a courtesy.”

He lined up again, this time sliding in and her body lurched upward against him. Her heels wrapped around the back of his knees as the ball of his piercing rubbed torturously against her g spot. Intensity having been ramped up to a 10. A whine of satisfaction left her throat and he groaned into her neck. “God, you feel so fucking good. I’ve never felt someone so wet for me like this.”

He thrust into her, both of them tangled up in each other, sounds of pleasure ringing out in her small room. With every brush of his piercing against that sweet spot her moans were pitching higher.

He fisted the sheets below her, grunting in her ear as his hips snapped against hers urgently. “C-can I try something with you? I promise it’ll feel good.”

She nodded, whimpering as his hips stilled and he pulled himself from her soaking depths. He lifted her hips, sliding a folded pillow beneath them before sinking back into her.

This time the pressure against her g spot was so intense her moans crescendoed. His hips resumed their pace, and her legs wrapped around him again, pulling him impossibly closer. “Oh fuck! That’s so intense! I-fuck. Sebastian! I-I think I’m gonna cum!”

He grinned, groaning as he moved one hand to gently press his palm against her lower abdomen. She cried out much louder now, causing Sebastian to wince at her neighbors expense. One of her hands digging into his bicep and the other covering her mouth.

A gush of wetness between her legs had him grinning from ear to ear. She gasped, moaned and shook below him as her orgasm rocked through her.

Sebastian fucked her through it, whispering praises of how good she felt cumming on his cock and how fucking hot it was that he’d made her squirt. That finally brought her back.

She lifted her head, looking between them and sure enough she’d made an absolute mess of them both. She began to sit up with an expression of worry but he shook his head and began rocking his hips again. “It’s fine for now. I promise. I’ll help you clean up after.”

She swallowed hard and nodded as he pulled the pillow out from under her and began to thrust into her again. She rode the wave of pleasure while he brought himself to his edge. He was nearly panting as she watched sweat roll down his forehead. “Where do you want m-me to cum?”

She whimpered, pulling him close, raking her nails down his back. “J-just cum inside me. I-I’m on the pill and…I like how it feels.”

He groaned, rutting into her greedily at her dirty admission. She moaned as his hips stilled and he grunted, filling her with his seed. “F-fuck. You feel so good. Gods, that was incredible.”

She smiled, holding him close while they caught their breath. His chocolate eyes met hers as she brought her fingers to slide through his sweaty hair. “I’ve never squirted before. That was next level sex.”

He chuckled, rolling off of her and helping her up off the soaked sheets. She reached for the sheets and he stopped her, grabbing his boxers off the floor. “Come show me where your washer is and then go get in the shower. I’ll get your stuff in the wash and then I’ll come clean up with you.”

Her heart kicked to life in her chest and she smiled, admiring his puppy dog look that he gave her before nodding and leading him down to hall.

[blues824]

Obey me brothers/ side characters with a s/o that is beloved by Diavolo's mother!

Reader is not MC, but is still human, kind of like Solomon. Gender-neutral pronouns are used.

Lucifer

You were probably a part of a noble family

Otherwise there would have been no way that you were known by Her Former Majesty, let alone beloved by her.

He can see the appeal though

You were kind, thoughtful, caring, and best of all: competent

A nice contrast to his brothers

He is a bit jealous that you are very close to Diavolo due to your former closeness with the Queen

But what can he do? He swore loyalty to Diavolo

He did swoop in and steal you when he found out that the Prince had no romantic interest in you

Much like a prince swoops in for the princess

Mammon

Bro first thought that you might have special permissions

And tried to use you because of that

But you weren’t very keen on being used because you were favored by the former Queen.

You actually smacked him for having the audacity

Other than that, you were actually very kind towards him

He definitely gets jealous when he sees how close you are to Diavolo because you were loved by his mother

Though it doesn’t matter because you love him and only him

Plus, Diavolo didn’t harbor any romantic feelings for you, so that was a huge bonus for your beloved demon

Now he can act on his greediness.

Leviathan

As the Commander of Hell’s Navy, he’s probably heard of you and even seen you around the Castle

Bro could definitely see why the Queen loved you, even though you were a human 

You were kind, and you made his heart beat so fast

He felt like a total normie for having these feelings, but it’s not like he could do anything about it

If you thought Mammon was jealous, you should see Levi

Every single time he sees Diavolo with his arm around you, he is just sitting there, marinating in the envy he feels

But you think of the prince as a sort of older brother figure instead, so that calms Levi down a bit

Not by much though

You will definitely have to make up for it by cuddling with him, or else he’ll sulk about it

Satan

In some of the Devildom History books, you are mentioned and even in some of the pictures standing beside the late Queen

To many, it was odd to see a human held in such high regard

But he got to really know you since you also attended RAD

And that is how he came to understand why the Queen loved you so much and even favored you.

He will gladly listen to any stories of Her Former Majesty that you are willing to tell him as he loves to learn more and more

However, with being the Queen’s favorite, it means that you are closer to Diavolo

Satan isn’t jealous because it makes sense that the Prince would want to know what his mother was like

There are limits to his generosity

As long as the hugging doesn’t go too far, he’s fine

Asmodeus

Finds it interesting that you were favored by the former QUEEN herself

Really makes a point in emphasizing that whenever he sees you

He will give you a hug and a kiss from behind and tease you saying that you were loved by the QuEeN

You were definitely kind and sweet, so he understands why she loved you so much

Asmo doesn’t really get jealous, but he does get clingy

When you are being very affectionate with Diavolo because you both are like siblings, he wants cuddles and affection as well

It’s honestly adorable to see him out and make grabby hands like a small child

And of course you give in because who wouldn’t?

He feels better right after

Beelzebub

Is also intrigued when he hears that the Queen loved you

He was an angel at that point, so he had never really had a chance to meet her

But over different meals, he will happily listen to whatever stories you have of your time as a noble within the palace

This demon is so soft for you

Every single piece of affection that you show him is something he soaks up

Like a sponge

He doesn’t get jealous either, not even when Diavolo gives you a hug as a greeting

I mean, he does the same thing as a greeting to you

It’s a typical friendly gesture, and he doesn’t have anything against the Prince greeting you in that way

Belphegor

He was very wary of you at first because you are a human

And definitely more wary of you because you were loved by the Royal Family, a group he’s not exactly friendly with

But you were just so nice and kind

It was hard for him to envision you being so close to good-for-nothings

Plus, he had to admit that he was interested to know what kind of person Diavolo came from

When you both visit the Prince’s palace, Belphie definitely gets jealous

Ain’t no way Diavolo had the audacity to wrap his arms around you

However, it wasn’t like he could do anything about it. 

You were closer to the Prince than you were with him because of your connection to his mother, so he just had to deal with it

Diavolo

You always remained close to the royal family, even after he was born

Along with Barbatos, you played a huge role in raising him, even though you were only around 19 years old at the time

Many a night, you would tell him stories about his mother, as he unfortunately never got the chance to meet her

As he grew up, he grew to love you in a more romantic way

In terms of being a demon, you being only 19 years older than him wasn’t that big of a deal

Remember that in the game, these demons are 1000’s of years old while MC is much younger

That aside, he still asks you what his mother was like from time to time

The way he listens with such childlike curiosity is so adorable

But to be fair, he’s adorable 99.9% of the time anyway

Barbatos

The two of you kind of partnered up to raise the young master in his mother’s… absence

Honestly, you both are the reason that Diavolo believes in love

He had exposure to you both dancing in the kitchen and including him in under the guise of training him to dance

Forget the Demon King, because you both became parents to Diavolo

Barbatos had met you when he was employed, and he knew that you two were meant to be together

During some of the more painful nights for the young prince, you both would sit with him and tell him funny stories about his kind mother

As you tucked him in, the butler’s chest felt warm while you placed a gentle kiss on the prince’s forehead

Even millennia later, you both are still as in love as you were back then

Then MC came around, and the chaos begins

Solomon

He was only slightly jealous because you had more of a chance of getting a pact with Diavolo than he did

But you have known the prince for millennia, and you have not made a pact with him

So he then realizes that you do not wish to make pacts with a bunch of demons

You already had the favor of the late queen, and you deemed that enough

Then, you both really got to know each other when he came down for the student exchange program, and you got romantically involved

I don’t perceive him as a super jealous person, but a little bit of green creeps up his throat when he sees Diavolo hug you

The sorcerer understands that you both are like siblings

That doesn’t change anything though because he’s still a bit green with envy

He doesn’t ask you to stop though because that’s not fair

Simeon

To see a human favored by such a powerful demon like the former Queen of the Devildom was very rare, and it had Simeon intrigued

And your soul was still pure, meaning that you have not made a single pact

You could say that this is what attracted the archangel to you

Back in the Celestial Realm, he never had the chance to interact with the Devildom too much and therefore never had the chance to meet with the Queen while she was still alive

Thus, he will ask you a few questions about her

Whenever you visit Purgatory Hall, he gets so excited

But then there’s the matter when everyone gets together and Diavolo greets you with a hug

Simeon isn’t the type to get jealous, but something about seeing his beloved being hugged by another man rubs him the wrong way

Very uncharacteristic of him, and he is even surprised 

[aphroditelovesu]

I have another TLQ request for you, but only if you want to do it!

I want to request a oneshot or reaction blurb where Reader meets Bucephalus. I used to do some horseback riding, and all my horse books always mentioned him. I always loved the story about how he was frightened of his own shadow and how a young Alexander helped him overcome it by directing him towards the sun😭. Honestly, I would be freaking out just as much (if not more) about meeting Bucephalus as I would be about meeting Alexander.

As a bonus, maybe he (Bucephalus) actually likes our girl and even let's her sit on him and maybe ride him a little? Some sources claim that he only let alexander ride him. The fact that he lets reader do it too could encourage Alexander's infatuation with her. It would also be an interesting story for historians. However, I'll leave the details up to you.

Thanks again! 💞😊

--O-

❝ 📜— lady l: I'm not sure if it turned out good, but... It's what I managed to do with the little time I have, I hope you like it anyway and feel free to give me your opinion! Good reading and sorry for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: none, just fluffly and soft yan!Alexander.

❝📜 word count: 1,185.

The place where they kept the horses was, to say the least, disgusting. You couldn't judge, not much, considering where you were, but still they could have been a little more careful with the poor horses.

This irritated you and it wasn't a small matter. You should have a serious talk with Alexander later.

You looked around, making sure no one was around. Knowing that all the servants and slaves, by god how you hated this part, were busy as the camp would soon move again, you decided to try your luck and take a horse for a ride.

You felt like a criminal, and in a way, you were.

Although all you wished was to be able to ride a little. There wasn't much to do in the camp at the moment, Alexander and the others were busy in war councils and you found yourself bored. Wanting a little action and no bloodshed, preferably.

Sighing loudly, you looked at the available horses. There weren't many, just those mounted by the cavalry and the generals and the King.

Okay, maybe there were several.

You weren't picky, anyone would do. Your goal was simple; take a horse, sneak it out of camp, that was the hard part, ride it for a bit and then give it back. It couldn't be that difficult, could it?

You looked at the horses who ignored you. Everyone was interested in their food.

All but one.

You smirked when you saw that a black horse, a stallion, you noticed, was the only one who didn't ignore you. Instead, he looked back at you as if challenging you.

He was daring you to get closer to him, to ride him.

Your heart skipped a beat, you knew who that horse was.

Bucephalus.

The legendary horse of Alexander the Great.

''Hey...'' You whispered the words, not sure what to do.

You always liked animals and you couldn't deny that you had an affection for horses and look where you were. Head-on with one of the most famous horses in history. How should you react? No, doing so was beyond your comprehension, but then again, everything that had happened in your life in the last few weeks was beyond comprehension. So finding Bucephalus was normal, even.

At least it wasn't Incitatus, you were grateful for it.

Bucephalus whinnied at you, still looking at you with those deep black eyes. They reminded you of someone.

''Eh... Mister Bucephalus?'' As soon as the words left your mouth you scoffed at yourself. Really? By god, (Y/N), what is wrong with you? It's just a horse.

Except it wasn't just a horse. It was the horse.

You looked at her in wonder. He was magnificent, his fine black fur, his physical size and intense black eyes were beautiful. You dare say he was the most beautiful stallion you had ever seen in your entire life.

Absolutely wonderful.

''You're amazing, aren't you?'' You approached unconsciously and brought your right hand to his snout, stroking it slowly and gently. Bucephalus didn't back away but he didn't make a sound, he just stared at you.

With courage drawn from God only knows where, you decided on a more direct approach. ''Do you mind if I... Ride you?''

It probably wasn't what you should have done but there were no witnesses at the time, right?

Bucephalus whinnied in response, although you didn't understand if it was a yes or a no. You bit your lower lip and guided him out of the place where he was being kept.

You were either very brave or very stupid. Or maybe you were both.

You saw that he was still wearing a saddle, which meant that Alexander had ridden him earlier and hadn't had it removed. You almost cursed him for it out loud, almost.

''Where do you think you're going with my horse?'' You jumped up and your spine froze when you heard the voice that had been disturbing you for weeks.

Fuck.

You turned to look at Alexander. You gave a humorless laugh, ''I... Well, you see...''

He crossed his arms and glared at you.

''Alright. You see, I was bored and wanted to ride a little.''

''With Bucephalus?''

You decided to play dumb, ''Bucephalus? Oh, I didn't know it was him...''

''You didn't know?'' He said very slowly and you knew you had been caught. But to your confusion and relief, he started laughing.

You looked at him confused and he stopped laughing but kept smiling.

''You lie better than that.''

He was right. Even a child would lie better than you had lied now.

''Sorry.'' You mumbled softly. Alexander approached you and touched your face gently, you looked at him and blushed when you saw the way he looked at you.

With adoration and love. Just like he had looked at you at the wedding and on your wedding night. You blushed a little as you remembered the last part.

He rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, ''There's nothing to be sorry for.'' He whispered and you felt your body heat up a little. By the gods, what had this man done to you?

Alexander pulled away a little, ''Did you say you wanted to ride for a bit?'' You nodded. He smiled, ''Ride with me.''

You blinked in surprise.

''Are you sure?''

Alexander nodded.

''Alright then.'' You took a deep breath and watched Alexander guide Bucephalus out. You can't help but notice the bond they had, Alexander's affectionate and even protective way with Bucephalus. The whispers that Alexander whispered to his horse and the caresses.

You followed them and stopped in front of Bucephalus.

''Mount him first, let's see if Bucephalus will let you mount him.'' Alexander said, still stroking his stallion's head.

You nodded and tried to mount Bucephalus. To your surprise, he didn't try to move or run away, he just stayed still while you climbed onto his back.

''Try to guide him a little.''

You took the reins and kicked it very lightly in the side and Bucephalus began to move forward. You smiled and didn't notice Alexander's smile as he walked behind you and Bucephalus.

This was truly incredible, he thought, the fact that Bucephalus let you ride him proved that you were indeed perfect for him.

Alexander watched with satisfaction as you rode Bucephalus, looking quite pleased with yourself. It made him happy, seeing you so happy. He had gotten the feeling that you were sad these past few weeks and that didn't sit well with him.

You should be happy.

He would deal with it later. There was nothing he wouldn't do for you, he realized that very quickly. Alexander loved you so much that he would be willing to give up on conquering the Persian Empire if you asked him to.

You were his greatest weakness and his greatest strength.

You truly were his perfect Queen. And Alexander will be damned if he lets you go. You would never leave him, he will make sure of that.

[greenqueenhightower]

I know u won't get my point, but Alicent should have paid more attention to Rhaenyra and respected her and her father's wishes and not have installed her fucking son on the throne. Things started going south when she married Viserys and when she wanted to strip Rhaenyra off her birthright

How about, no?

*Long Rant Incoming:*

1) Viserys didn't talk about "birthright." In the eyes of the smallfolk, Aegon has the "birthright" to rule simply because he is a male Targaryen heir. Alicent's position was vulnerable because Viserys never actually promised Alicent that Aegon would be king but neither did he specify exactly what his role would be and that was the point… all his children wanted his attention and love, and a place to belong. Viserys didn’t know what he wanted. Before naming Rhaenyra his heir, he wanted a son so desperately that he killed his wife for it. His conscience pained him badly afterward, and he decided to name Rhaenyra his heir. Nevertheless, he wanted a young woman to sleep with; he didn’t want a wife, he didn’t want more kids, and he had already named his heir. But he married Alicent and had those kids anyway. He really was so irresponsible and on top of that, he tells Alicent in episode 3 that he thinks he probably was wrong in making Rhaenyra his heir because of his dream/prophecy, so ofc Alicent was worried. Honestly, he could have made his mind up about Rhaenyra and shut up about it. Or he could have actually thought of his other kids and given them some work to do and trained them for some position if he truly cared for them. From the moment they existed, they were his responsibility. And for sure it makes sense why his kids by Alicent, not having known any special love from their father, would want to finally claim a position for themselves.

So, Viserys set the Dance in motion by his choices. If he had supported his Targtower kids and ensured they wouldn’t be threatened by their mad uncle (Daemon; who hated them just because they were Otto's and Alicent's blood) in the succession, then Alicent would have fewer reasons to establish Aegon on the throne.

2) Alicent spent time with Viserys because she had always considered her own self in reference to the Targaryens. What was she if not Rhaenyra’s childhood companion? When Otto compels her to visit Viserys she doesn’t want to. She brings along the book of histories she used to read to Rhaenyra. What else can she offer to the Targaryens? This is what they like: to talk about their legacies and their histories. So she might as well read to him, right? There’s no harm done. And she went. She does the bare minimum whenever they are together: the bare minimum of eye contact and conversation. Viserys was SO PERVERSE that even with the minimum attention from a teenager he wanted to fuck her. Not even make her his wife because he didn’t want another wife. And you see how surprised Alicent is when he declares so matter-of-factly that he will wed Alicent, no questions asked. Because she was the easiest bride-but-no-wife choice of them all. She already had her father in court who was a megalomaniac, and Viserys thought that by marrying Alicent he was giving Otto what he always wanted: greater opportunities for social climbing. So he’d stay out of his way, right? That’s what he wanted all along, right? So I can have your daughter any way I like, right? (Because had he married Laena, can you imagine being so chill with Corlys as a father-in-law? Ofc he wouldn’t desire anything potentially restrictive for him.) And I’m saying that he didn’t want a wife because of what he’d done before to Aemma. He had already made up his mind that (to console his own conscience and to honor Aemma’s memory) he would make Rhaenyra his heir. SO HE DIDN'T NEED ANY MORE HEIRS. Then why does he get married and have some more?? BECAUSE HE IS AN IDIOT and because he just wanted a young bride. He is the reason the war began, and his reckless choices, not Alicent wanting some compensation for her years of mistreatment and suffering. Because even after he got married and had those kids he still had time to make things right but he didn’t.

So Alicent didn’t marry Viserys, it was the other way around. He lusted after her and wed and bed her. Teenage Alicent couldn’t and wouldn't go against the will of the King.

3) Regarding the friendship between Alicent and Rhaenyra it was actually the opposite: Alicent many times tried to defend her and had her back even when Viserys and Otto believed the rumors of her losing her maidenhood (which as an unmarried heir was an insult to the crown). Alicent didn’t want to believe it and she supported her! However, even earlier than that, Rhaenyra cast Alicent off without understanding or offering consolation for the predicament she found herself in. She never tried to understand Alicent and never really paid enough attention to what her friend was going through even before she married Viserys. Alicent was alone and without a friend and Rhaenyra should have paid more attention to her.

4) Things really started to go south when Rhaenyra betrayed Alicent's trust by lying to her and continuing to flout her freedom, special treatment, and life without consequences to Alicent's face. The reason Rhaenyra had bastards and married Laenor was her own fault in the first place. Alicent tried to encourage Viserys to look for any potential suitors for her, and Rhaenyra had every opportunity to make the right choice but no, she messed it up by seeking out Daemon and then sleeping with Criston, so she brought it to herself. After what she did, there was no suitor available apart from Laenor, and her father forced her to marry him because no one else would. And then she had three Strong kids, making every mistake after the other (although I understand her completely: she had to have those kids because she wanted heirs and because that’s her body her choice, you know? She can sleep with whomever she wants) but at the same time, the game they all play is political and during the time and age we’re discussing, it was a big deal if you had bastard kids, especially since there already were THREE legitimate male Targaryen heirs whose fate was unsure and further endangered by Rhaenyra's actions. But it wasn’t Alicent’s fault that Rhaenyra had those kids, it was her own choice and she had to live up to the consequences of her actions. (She did this once by taking her children away from KL because she, too, recognized that they were being pointed at too much and it was getting too obvious).

5) Alicent knew that Rhaenyra wasn’t going to hurt her kids but the system they were born in would. In case she became heir, for Rhaenyra to secure her succession and have no challengers, Alicent’s kids had to die. Those displeased by Rhaenyra could easily dethrone her if there was an active male heir free to roam around Westeros. Alicent's sons would always be a challenge to Rhaenyra. And maybe Rhaenyra hadn’t thought about it per se and I trust that she never had vile intentions towards the kids (despite the deleted scenes where she gives death stares to Aegon) and despite never calling them by their names or developing a relationship with her siblings. Her own council and her uncle-husband would advise her to kill them. Their position wasn’t safe. Viserys could have secured it by giving them land and titles instead of the throne and by having them bend the knee to Rhaenyra but he didn’t. So their position was very much vulnerable because again, he didn’t care at all what happened to them, but Alicent, claiming the throne for her son, and saving his life the only way she knew how, DID.

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 1.5

Coke Paul is just so pretty

What is the switching glasses supposed to mean in the penny lane video? Any thoughts?

In this interview, Paul seconds John's “go on forever” comment from a few months ago. They really did so well when they were living together, didn't they?

Okay, let's look at the difference in Paul's trips. His first ever trip with Tara Browne and he's just concerned that his sleeves are dirty and just mildly looking through a book of pictures. VS with John? The “I know.” “I know.” The “emperor of the universe” thing? Raving about it to everyone who would listen? Having to leave multiple times because it was scary how tightly they were bonding?

Their songwriting partnership is beyond insane. It's superhuman, it really is. Their abilities, their connection. And Cyn and Terry just reading. Just completely nonplussed. This was very every-day, monotonous stuff for them. Unfathomable. 

That song will always get me, though. “what do I do when my love is away?” “Obviously move my best friend in to take her place and then write a timeless classic with him about how it.”

Astrid: At first I did wonder if the really cared about people's feelings and people's friendship. Maybe this doc's whole thesis is “John and Paul's love for each other was so big they didn't have room for any kind feeling toward anyone else.”

The Pepper photoshoot is insane to me. Like more insane than the David Bailey one. Change my mind. You can't.

John tells an interviewer, "Only now am I beginning to realize many of the things I should have known years ago. I'm getting to understand my own feelings." Were follow-up questions just not invented yet??!! What things have you just learned, John? What feelings?

Never forget Linda took these. She must've been somewhat aware of how annoying this man was going to be about John from the start. And she still went after him. That's how good his . . . Nevermind.

"a decisive moment in the history of Western civilization" Well done, babies. 

I love smug Paul in general, and I especially love when he's smug about John. That “me and the badass bitch I pulled by being autistic” look. But literally. 

Gosh the Greece trip looks so beautiful. Idyllic. Paradisiacal. All of the beautiful people are just so blissful and in love. Sigh. (Every time I tried to take a screenshot of it it was too awful. Peter Jackson should clean it up.)

What are everyone's thoughts about the cause of Brian's death? I really liked what Vivek Tiwary said on AKOM. He knew he was taking a dangerous amount of drugs and he was depressed. But he wouldn't have just left so suddenly without leaving a will or setting things in order for the Beatles business. Anyway, no matter the cause, his death is the beginning of the end for the Beatles.  

All those quotes and pictures about the “intensity” between Paul and Brian are fascinating. “Obviously adored” “overcompensate” “little worries” What does it all mean? Was Brian in love with Paul in the end like he had been in love with John in the beginning? Or did he just feel bad because he knew it was unfair to Paul how in love he was with John? 

Wait, Brian was hospitalized for s*icide attempts in 66? Really? Confirmed? I knew he was in the hospital, but didn't know it was due to s*icide. 

Paul's hand at the small of John's back here, helping him onto the bus. It's so tender, so customary. They took such good care of each other.

Interviewer talking about MMT: If I can't see it in color, I'm going to send it back. ... :/

They're directing something and as Paul starts to walk away, so does John. But not because he wants to. He's looking around almost frantically. He has no choice in the matter. Only one person gets to control their legs at a time, and right now it's Paul's turn. 

Look how fucking ecstatic he is. I guarantee John isn't saying anything that monumental but look at those eyes. He's done for. Gone.

Interviewer: just get a tape recorder and you and Paul and the others just start gabbing. John: well, we've got a lot of that lying around the house, actually. Me: First of all “the house?” “the house?” Just casual. Like “our house” Like it's just common knowledge that they've been married and living together since they were fifteen. Second of all, give us the tapes already!! Who has them? Paul? 

All of these quotes from the Hunter Davies biography are just so normal. They're all so normal. It's fine. I'm fine. And here's my tin hat coming on again (and yeah I believe John loved George and Ringo immensely) but I think sometimes in these quotes, when John and Cyn are saying "the Beatles" they kind of mean "Paul . . . And George and Ringo". John himself actually says as much in the seventies, that when he says "the Beatles" he might just mean Paul, or just him and Paul. And there are countless times when Paul or John will start out saying "the others" and end up using just one name in a sentence. Idk this doc makes me such a truther I swear I'm not always this crazy.

And John's self soothing, reassuring refrain playing over all of it, “nothing's gonna change my world.” Right after Paul and Jane get engaged? Someone stab me in the heart, it would hurt less. And this is just the anticipation of the next part. Can I even handle part two?

Have some happy screenshots to bolster us.

[dreamypqulson]

— my only sunshine

summary: you’ve been struggling in silence but it hasn’t gone unnoticed.

pairing: cordelia goode x reader

warnings: depression, anxiety, self-harm (pretty detailed, be careful)

word count: 2700

venting again lol

Your leg shaking up and down was becoming excessive. You could see the girls next to you becoming annoyed, but you hardly realized that you were doing it. Tears pooled in your eyes and it burned so badly to hold them in. Why does Cordelia have to look at me so much? Why can't she just glance over me like everyone else and let me wallow away in the corner?

Everyone knew that you were Cordelia's special girl. You didn't think it had anything to do with your powers, she just liked you. And you liked her. But that was it; you were both too afraid to acknowledge it. What she wasn’t aware of was your history with mental health, which you tried so hard to conceal from her.

You don't think you were doing a very good job hiding it this time. How could you hide the fact that you don't want to live anymore?

Everyone knew you looked terrible lately. Madison had even pointed it out. Your eyes were dark, and hollow, and you just didn't look like yourself. Madison said you were just a freak that was too caught up in your studies to barely allow yourself some time to sleep, but Cordelia knew that wasn't true. Matter of fact, it was the complete opposite.

Cordelia dismissed yet another class that had completely gone through one ear and out the other. Spacing out is the one time that you actually feel safe and you so happen to be the best at it during class.

Everyone rushed out. You were a little slower because you were so exhausted and picking up your books felt like you were ripping open the cuts on your wrist. You thought you could feel like blood dripping down, but it might've just been your anxiety freaking you out.

"Oh, y/n, could you stay for a minute, love," Cordelia asked when you were by the doorway, ever so sweet but you still bit the inside of your mouth until you could taste blood.

You spun slowly on your heels. You loved Cordelia but you didn't want to stay. You were terrified of confrontation and you just wanted to throw yourself into your bed again.

You didn't respond and kept a great distance between you and Cordelia. She was so warm, she was your comfort, and you ached to have her hold you, but you just wanted the darkness right now.

She still walked closer towards you and you almost started to cry from the nerves. You started scratching at your band-aid covered wrists. You don't know why you do that when your nervous, it just feels good in the moment.

She looked down at your arms, then back up at you. Does she know? Did your sleeve rise when you went to reach for something? "Relax, honey. You're not in trouble. I just want to check on you."

"I'm fine," it came out weak.

She raised an eyebrow at you and gave you that look. Anyone could tell that you weren't okay, it was just a matter of who would be there for you when you fall apart.

Your bottom lip started to tremble. A clear indication that you were ready to break down. Cordelia just watched, letting you control yourself before she made you explode completely.

"How about we take a walk outside, around the house, and get some fresh air, yeah?" You nodded and you were suddenly following her out the door. Anything someone says to you hasn't really been processing in your head. You truly just feel like a leaf being blown in every direction.

It was nice out, slightly chilly with a breeze, but it did not seem to snap you from your state of mind. It was quiet for a minute before Cordelia began talking to you again. You knew she was trying to distract you from your thoughts, but it's not really want you want right now.

"So what have you been up to, missy? Are you still writing?" She looked over at you, gently smiling. She loved reading all of your work, but it had been a few weeks since she had. She's been a little bit busy and you've been locking yourself in your room.

"Yeah, a little bit, I guess." It was a complete lie, but your didn't feel like getting into the fact that you could hardly bring yourself to even get out of bed, let alone write.

She wanted to have a full conversation with you, but you weren't having it. She just became silent as you both finished the walk around the building. She always takes you to walk around the city with her, but she had an inkling that you weren't going to want to leave the property.

Cordelia didn't want to let you go yet. She had a bad feeling and she knew something just wasn't right with you. She felt uneasy. But she couldn't hold you back when you told her you had to go study. You would never pass up hanging out with Cordelia to study, and she knew that, but she just let you go.

When you got to your room, it was all messy. Had you had the energy to keep it as tidy as you always did then maybe your anger levels wouldn't have increased when you walked in. You decided to ignore it and step over the pile of clothes and make your way into the bathroom.

There, you dug through your drawer, looking for the blade that you kept hidden in the back. It was the one place that nobody could accidentally stumble upon it.

You sat down on the closed toilet lid and pulled up your left sleeve. Ripping off the bandaids had not even hurt as much as they should, you didn’t even flinch. You began cutting any free skin on your inner arms that you could. You hated that there wasn't that much room anymore due to all the other cuts, but you just couldn't seem to stop.

Sometimes it made you feel crazy but it mostly made you get some release. You knew you should at least try to stop with summer approaching but getting clean is never your top priority in the moment. Not when your arms start aching for more.

You just sit there with a blank face and watch as drops of blood start pooling at the thin lines and then you start dabbing it away with a tissue and apply some pressure.

Your heart absolutely drops when you hear a knock on your bathroom door. You weren’t expecting a visitor at your room, but living in this busy house, you never really get alone time.

"Y/n, it's me darling. Dinners ready." How could you have been so in your head that you lost track of time. You hardly even had an appetite but you knew that Cordelia was already having suspicions about you. You just had to act like everything was alright.

"Okay I'll be right down." Instead of wrapping your arm up, you simply just ran it under water for a moment and then pulled your sleeve down. It definitely stung, but you were starting to enjoy it.

When you walked out of the bathroom, Cordelia was waiting on your bed for you. You were expecting her to already be downstairs with the other girls, but she clearly had other plans.

"You're always neat, sweetie. What's going on with you?" You shrugged again, and soon, you thought, she's going to forget what your voice even sounds like. You began to walk out your room, and you can hear her shuffling behind you before she finally catches up. "Not in the mood to talk today?"

You'd rather Cordelia just hold you and whisper sweet nothings in your ear without expecting an answer. But at the moment, she's completely worried and just wants you to open up. "Not really, Cordelia."

She lets you slide again, but she can't take her eyes off of you all throughout dinner. She's sitting at the head of the table and you're at the first seat next to her. When you reach for your plate, she notices something that she wishes she didn't. She wishes it wasn't even there.

Your sleeve slides up, only slightly, and she can see smeared crimson on your wrist. Her heart sink and she has to swallow down the lump in her throat. After that, she cannot even look at you, or anyone for that matter, for the rest of dinner. She wasn't angry or embarrassed of you. Just so, so upset over the fact that her girl was hurting so badly.

Dinner finishes fairly fast. You notice there's not much chatter, and it must be from Cordelia's lack of interest in any of the conversation. You start worry that you hurt her feelings. She's always catching up with you and the girls - mostly you - during dinner, but today she hadn't even said a word.

"Y/n, meet me in my room please," Cordelia says, and it sounds almost cold compared to her typical soft voice. She walks away and heads towards her bedroom and your heart completely sinks. You fidget with the hem of your shirt and make way towards her room.

The door is ajar and by the time you're there, Cordelia is sitting on her bed in tears. This is it; she's going to kick you out.

"Cordelia?" You say and gather her attention back to you. She quickly wipes away her tears like you weren't supposed to see that, but there's no hiding her red, puffy eyes.

"Sit down please," she hardly looks you in the eyes. It's terrifying.

"I—" you attempt to argue. She has no part in that.

"Just sit down, y/n."

You sit beside her and it's so close that you bunch up your sleeve in your hand. You're consistently terrified of it rising. "Show me your arm."

"What—"

"Show me, y/n. I know what's going on. I know that you are hurting yourself."

You hug your arm closer to your body and can feel the sting like it's mocking you. Tears are instantly sprung to your eyes and it's clear that this situation isn't just a big misunderstanding.

"No! Leave me alone, Cordelia. What is wrong with you? Why would I ever do that." But you do do it and those words hurt so much. You wouldn't ever be so harsh to Cordelia, but you're not in the right mental state right now.

Cordelia's crying again and all you can think about is cutting up your arm for making her feel like that. You need to hurt yourself to pay for the faults you're causing and Cordelia can see right through that.

Her voice is very quiet and desperate as she speaks, "Baby, please. Please let me help you, I can't just pretend that it's not going on. I care about you too much."

This completely causes you to break down. You never had someone truly care about you. This is something that you've been yearning for forever.

You melt into Cordelia's body and she hugs you tightly, as if she let go, all of the pieces of you would just shatter everywhere. You can feel her tears start leaking through onto your shirt and you know she feels it too. "Please, y/n," she whispers, "I love you. Let me in, it's just me, it's only Cordelia."

You finally pull back and wipe away your tears. It doesn't stop another fresh batch of warm tears to roll down your face. You don't want to keep hiding this anymore. You need help. You need someone. You need her.

You take a deep breath and tug up your sleeve. You can't even bare to look at her face. Ashamed, and embarrassed, and scared. But you hear a sharp intake of breath from her. The bleeding from the cuts before dinner only made it look far worse on your fucked up skin.

"Oh, my baby," she sniffles and grabs your arm, gently. Your heart is too heavy. She's trying so hard to be strong for you. "Why," she looks up at you with watery eyes, waiting for an honest answer.

"Everything's just too much, Delia. I don't want to be me anymore. I hate being me, I hate living!" You started sobbing again and the crack in your voice doesn't go unnoticed. This is new and weird and you don't like it. You don't want to talk about yourself anymore. You can see her heart breaking in half from your words.

"My little sunshine...do you know I love you? I love the person that you say you hate so much." You don't have anything to say to that. Cordelia loves you. And you don't know how, but she does. You don't know how this whole could have any room for the broken half of you. “I couldn’t live without seeing your pretty smile and listening to you ramble to me about all the little things you love. So if you hate living so much, then let me love it for the both of us until you learn to.”

It’s silent for a couple moments that pass by until she looks back down at your arm again. It's a bloody mess and you don't want her to look anymore but she's still holding on. "Can I clean it? Can I do that for you?"

You nod and then you're being walked to her bathroom. It's bigger than yours and the entire room smells like her lavender shampoo that you always love taking in when she hugs you. She helps you to sit up on the counter. Your arm feels heavy from all the attention being on it but she so carefully cleans away the blood and it makes you feel a little bit better.

She covers it with bandaids. Not because she is disgusted by it. She's not at all. She just doesn't want anything infecting the fresh ones.

When she’s done, she lifts your arm up to her lips and, so delicately, kisses the covered cuts. A few tears start rolling down your face again. You’re too emotional for this. “Delia…”

“I love you,” she looks back up to you. Her words are so clear and genuine. “Come to me. I don’t care where we are or what time it is. Come to me whenever you feel like this.” You nod, your bottom lip trembling. She reaches her hand up and brushes her thumb over your lips. “It’s not going to be easy but i’m going to help you. We can make a plan and safe alternatives, anything that’ll help.”

She leans in and kisses your forehead, slow and light and your heart beats a little bit faster. “I love you too, Cordelia,” you croak out and she gives you that little smile.

“Come on, my little sunshine, let’s get some rest, hm?” She grabs your hand and brings you to her own bed. You’ve never slept with Cordelia before but it all feels natural. You lay your head on her chest and her arms wrap around your body. For once, you feel a sliver of happiness that you’ve been deprived of for so long.

The room is silent besides her soft breaths and the sound of cars rushing by. You finally break that silence after a few minutes.

“Delia?”

“Hm?” She peaks down a you and a small smile is present on her face again.

“Why do you always call me your little sunshine?” You say it with a slight giggle in your voice. You love all the nicknames she has for you, but this one stands out and makes your heart warm.

“Because, sweetie, I was in a very similar situation as you. But then you came into my life and suddenly there was light again.”

You looked up at her and bite your lip. You could’ve never imagined a woman like her feeling as terrible as you do. She’s too…perfect. But maybe, suddenly, you won’t feel so ashamed of your emotions anymore. You lean forward and place your sweet lips on hers. Just for a moment, for the first time in your life, you see a bit of sunlight shine through the cracks of your eyelids.

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[huramuna]

the calico bastard - chapter 3.

 aemond targaryen x strong bastard oc (series) previous part | next part

summary: After his takeover of Harrenhal, Aemond encounters a dreamy-eyed, wistful bastard of House Strong, who piques his interest and changes the course of Westerosi history.

warnings: smut (eventually), angst, canon typical violence, canon typical misogyny, depictions & descriptions of death

wordcount: 3.4k

a/n: alys rivers doesn’t exist in this universe, alysanne takes her place somewhat. a/n 2: this is my first fic, i got the courage to post it -- please be nice n' leave a like if this interests you!

art by me of alysanne • an edit by me of alysanne as a child • aesthetic board

wuthering heights - kate bush • leave me for dead - GAYLE

Alysanne didn’t get much sleep that night, not after what she’d seen— the future and the present. 

She paced around her small room until the light trickled from the horizon. Aemond’s harrowing screams echoed in her ears, her chest heaving and falling. 

There had only been one time before she had such a violent vision. 

It was eight years before— Alysanne was only ten years of age, just an unloved bastard girl of Harrenhal. 

Except, she had one who loved her. The only one. 

“Pick me up, pick me up!” Alysanne cried gleefully, “Breakthbonthes, pick me up!” she held her arms up, her words whistling through the gap in her baby teeth— she’d yet to lose those last few teeth right at the front, causing an admittedly quite silly lisp. 

Ser Harwin Strong— her brother, or half-brother as it may be, had returned to Harrenhal after a long time away. 

Her father, too, had returned— but Alysanne could care less, they were indifferent to one another. 

But Harwin— Harwin was hers, her brother, the only person to ever treat her like a person, like she wasn’t lesser. 

She ran on bare feet out to the gates, jumping and waving her arms as she saw the procession arrive. The little girl would recognize the curly mop and mountainous build of her brother anywhere. 

“Ah, my little lilac!” Harwin boomed from atop his horse, spurring the stallion into the gates, “By the Seven, Alysanne, you’ve grown.” 

“The maesther says I’m too schmall for my age,” she grumbled, kicking up dirt. 

“Ahh, and what does he know, anyhow?” Harwin grinned, dismounting his horse and leaving the reins to the stablehand. “The poor sod can hardly see past those caterpillars of eyebrows atop his head, eh?” 

Alysanne giggled, putting her arms up once more, “Please pick me up— wanna be thall… t-tall,” she tried to correct, spitting a bit through her gapped teeth. 

Harwin chuckled— it was a rich, soothing sound. His whole body seemed to erupt with the joy he brought as he laughed, like a deep and generous clap of thunder before the skies opened up. 

Alysanne felt her heart rattle around in her chest at the noise. 

“Let me get this heavy armor off, lilac,” he hummed, “C’mon, tell me about what you’ve been up to.” 

Alysanne skipped and hopped alongside Harwin as they walked through the courtyard, where he left his armor at the smith to be polished. She babbled on about the books she read, the birds she saw, and any innocuous thing she could conjure up. 

Each thing, no matter how small, boring, or insignificant it may be, Harwin would respond, whether in agreement, asking a question, anything at all— anything to make Alysanne feel special. 

“Alright— c’mere, little lilac,” Harwin finally acquiesced, kneeling down slightly. 

Alysanne squealed in delight as he ran into his arms— only to be met with darkness. 

A cold, withering darkness. Usually, being encapsulated by Harwin was warm— warm and bright, like the sunniest summer day.

But she felt cold— cold like the North was, colder than anything she felt before, like after a flame had been extinguished. 

Then, her vision went red— red, orange, yellow, crackling fire— warm, warm, too warm. Hot, hot— it was smoldering, she was screaming, feeling the skin melt from her bones and char into ash— and she wasn’t the only one screaming. 

She heard the cries of men— two very familiar to her— 

Harwin, Harwin— open the door, open the door, brother, please! She screamed and clawed at the door until it melted before her into glowing lava, sizzling at her feet— and behind it, Harwin— his hand on the knob, no, fused to the knob. 

His hand wasn’t attached, snapped off like a charred piece of firewood, his body strewn across the floor. His face peeled from the muscle and sinew, popping and blistering against the heat. His mouth, now just a hole, was twisted into an everlasting scream—

And then she was back. Back to the warmth and brightness of Harwin’s arms. He was shaking her softly, jostling her shoulder as a small crowd was gathered. 

“Alysanne,” he murmured frantically, “Alysanne, wake up, my girl.” 

Her eyes fluttered open, filled with tears— they rolled down her cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak, but only a whimpering sob came out. 

“Shh, don’t speak, it's okay,” he cooed, turning her away from the prying eyes of the crowd, “I’ve got you.” 

Ser Harwin Strong and his father, Lord Lyonel Strong, perished that same night in a fire— a supposed accident.

But Alysanne— she had known. She saw it, and had said nothing. She hears Harwin’s ghost muttering to her at times, his warm and gentle voice now saddened by ash and smoke. 

She contemplated her life for days, months and years after— she had lost the only family she had— and she could’ve stopped it. 

Since then, she relented from touching people or being touched. She never wanted to have that power— she didn’t want to see their deaths, hear their screams and have their ghosts linger in her head for the rest of her life. 

Now, after seeing Aemond’s supposed death, she felt a responsibility to change it— not for herself, not for Aemond— but for Harwin. For what she could’ve done, should’ve done. 

She wiped an errant tear from her cheek as she dressed for the day. She forwent the corset— damn the thing— and dressed in another kirtle, a paisley color. 

Her hands moved deftly as she tied her curly hair up into two braids— nothing like Flora and Beth had done— but it did the job nonetheless. 

The rest of the keep wasn’t awake yet— or so she had thought. She walked out in the courtyard barefoot, as usual, and found it odd as she heard another pair of feet crunching gravel near her. 

Turning around, she came face to face with Aemond. He looked… exhausted. 

His brow perked, “What are you doing up this early?” he asked as he kept walking, a nod of his head in indication that he wished for her to follow. 

She let out a sniff, “I’m always awake,” she grumbled, “I need to tend to Banshee.” she trotted alongside Aemond, her short legs having to work double time to keep up with his long legged strides. 

“‘Banshee’? I know that Harrenhal has its fair share of ghosts, but I haven’t heard the wail of a banshee yet— and even so, how does one tend to a Banshee?” he prodded, putting on a pair of leather gloves as they walked. 

“… Banshee isn’t a ghost,” Alysanne said, a slight tinge of annoyance lacing her voice, “Banshee is my horse.” 

They stopped at the stable, which now housed more horses than usual on account of the soldier’s occupation. Alysanne slunk to the last paddock, which was in truth, not in good shape. It had its fair share of bite marks and hoof prints. 

Aemond watched as the strange little bastard lady stood on her tippy toes, clicking her tongue and holding out her hand over the top of the stall door. 

A rumbling snort was heard before an absolutely monstrous horse head dipped over the door. It had a gray spotted snout and a neatly trimmed forelock and mane. 

Alysanne hummed as she undid the lock and led out Banshee. He was a ginormous draught horse, built purely of muscle and power. He had a light gray coat with black dapples— as well as some long feathering near his hooves. He was easily taller than Aemond by a foot.

The gelding let out a snort as he looked at Aemond, then turned his focus back to Alysanne, nuzzling the top of her head, earning a small giggle from her.

Aemond Targaryen, rider of the largest dragon in the world, was slightly aghast at the size of this horse. He exhaled, “That has to be the biggest fucking horse I’ve ever seen,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. He looked back and forth between Alysanne and Banshee, “How do you even get on his back?” 

Alysanne looked at Aemond, slightly bewildered, “You ride Vhagar— how do you get on her back?” she countered as she led Banshee out into the courtyard. 

Aemond, fascinated by Alysanne and her monster horse, followed, “Well— a fair bit of climbing, and she has some rope rigging around her saddle.” 

Alysanne pat Banshee on his neck— at least, as far as she could reach. “Well, think of Banshee as a small Vhagar,” she hummed, “It isn’t graceful, but a fair bit of climbing,” she mimicked his tone, “does the job.” 

The prince was slightly amused by this. “Well then— go on,” he pressed, “Let’s see how the bastard fares getting atop her horse.” 

Alysanne let out something of a growl or a grumble in annoyance, clicking her tongue after. Banshee lowered himself slightly, to a point where she could snag onto his mane and scramble up his neck, sliding down onto his back. It was hardly graceful, and was comparable to how a bat scrambles upon walls before taking flight.

“No saddle? Reins?” he questioned further. 

Alysanne cocked her head, “No?” she snorted, as if it was the silliest question she’d ever heard.

The prince pinched his brow in what seemed to be frustration, “How silly of me— you don’t even wear shoes, of course you’d ride your beast without the proper tack.” 

She rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything further. She murmured something to Banshee, who let out a whinny and began his walk— it was slow and bumpy, but Alysanne kept her composure. 

“Be here when I return, girl,” Aemond said before they got out of earshot, “I’ll have need of you.” 

Her brow furrowed. Need of her? For what? And where was he going? 

Alysanne and Banshee’s leisurely walk turned into a relaxed trot as they exited the gates of Harrenhal. They were half a mile away from the ancient castle before a thunderous roar was heard, and the rising sun was eclipsed by the gargantuan green beast known as Vhagar. 

Alysanne scratched Banshee as he got a bit fidgety as the dragon flew low in the sky, just above the treeline. “S’okay, my sweet boy,” she hummed, wrapping her arms around his neck as far as she could reach, “You won’t die by a dragon— I’ve seen it.” 

As Vhagar began to disappear from sight, something clicked in Alysanne’s head. The dragon was riding towards the God’s Eye— which meant Aemond was as well. 

It… it felt like too soon— no, the battle couldn’t be today— but she had seen Harwin’s death just hours before it happened… 

She spurred Banshee into a full on gallop, pressing low to his back to hold on, “Please, please,” she whimpered, tears already forming in her eyes. 

As they approached the shore of the God’s Eye, she looked around, scanning the sky for any sign of the bloodwyrm— or even Vhagar. 

She slid off of Banshee’s back, letting him graze as she walked the pebbled beach of the lake. She paced back and forth until it was high noon, the sun rising in the sky to its apex. 

A few more hours passed until late afternoon, the sun beginning its descent back towards the earth. A temporary eclipse of Vhagar returning had Alysanne giving a small breath of relief— until the giant dragon turned, lowering down to find a spot to land.

Banshee strayed near the woodline, as far from the dragon as possible— Alysanne shared his unease, a deep pit settling in her gut. 

She ground her teeth as she approached the landing dragon, the powerful flaps of her wings actually causing Alysanne to fall over— which apparently earned a laugh from Aemond— a laugh? When had she heard him actually laugh? 

Watching as he gracefully slid from Vhagar’s saddle, not before unstrapping himself (earning Alysanne a breath), she got back to her feet, dusting off her dress. 

“I thought I spotted that elephant horse of yours,” he called out, walking towards her. 

She shrunk back, “What do you want?” 

As he got closer, his expression became more visible. He seemed… lighter. More elated. His hair was swept back from the wind and his mouth was crinkled in a small grin— not that of a predator like usual, but like that of someone who was… joyous?

It was a difference of night and day— his pained anguish the night before, and his almost boyish  demeanor now. 

It confused Alysanne— she hadn’t accounted for this, such a strong change in emotion from him. It settled the pit in her stomach ever so slightly. 

“What do I want?” he repeated with a questioning tone, “Nothing— I merely wished to see if your beast had bucked you off yet.” he stopped a few feet away from her, not getting too close. His arms were behind his back in their usual resting position. It seemed as if he was respecting her boundaries. 

“Banshee wouldn’t— not to me, atleast,” she picked up a smooth stone from below her idly, rolling it around in her palm, “He’s a killer, you know.” 

“A killer, hm?” 

“Mhm,” she hummed, “Stomped in a few men’s heads over the years— ones that tried to ride him, besides me.” 

Aemond’s lip curled slightly, “Seems he’s bonded with you as his sole rider, then. Dragons are much the same. They get to choose who they bond with— test their mettle, and find them worthy.” 

Alysanne looked towards him as they conversed— they began walking around the shore near each other and she hadn’t even noticed. He still kept his distance, to which she was grateful. “Vhagar finds you worthy,” she commented, “It must be an honor.” 

Aemond picked up a rock as well, weighing it in his palm, “It is. It’s the highest honor of any Targaryen’s life— to be chosen by a dragon.” 

She stopped at the lapping waves, dipping her feet in the water. With a swift movement of her hand, she sent the stone skidding across the surface. Once, twice, thrice. 

A few moments later, Aemond did the same. Once, twice, thrice. 

Alysanne gave a lopsided smile at that as she straightened back up. She felt at ease— like a leaf on a cooling breeze. Not only at ease, she felt brave. 

Slowly, she lifted her head, taking in the features of Aemond’s face before landing on his eye— which looked right back at her. 

She felt a rattling in her chest— like a caged bird flapping and ricocheting against her bones. A strange heat came to her cheeks. “We make up one pair of violet eyes, you and I,” she murmured suddenly, “One lilac between each of us…” she stared at his remaining eye, to which he stared back at her one, paired with the rich, earthy brown of her other eye.

His brow furrowed momentarily, “An interesting observation,” he picked up another rock and skipped it across the waves, “You remind me of someone, you know. My sister— Helaena, her grace, the queen,” he whispered, his voice taking on a softer note, “I feel like you two would have much to talk about.” 

“I’ve heard she is fond of insects,” Alysanne answered, walking from the shore to the grass, where she began picking plants from the soil, seemingly with purpose, “I quite like a good moth myself. They liken themselves to have false eyes on their wings, so they do not have to stare down predators.” 

Aemond didn’t comment— he just watched her pick plants. 

“Herbs,” she said, as if feeling his questioning stare on her back, “For my medicines.” 

“I didn’t know you were a maester as well as a bastard,” he said– more likely than not with a smug grin on his face.

“I may be odd in appearance, but you must be blind in both eyes if you think I resemble a smelly, mean old man.” she quipped back.

He didn’t say anything more, just setting his jaw in a hard line. This earned Alysanne a satisfied smile– the bird had silenced the dragon. 

In her joyful reverie, she went to pick a bundle of chamomile– but her hand plunged into a bush of stinging nettle. She let out a yelp like an injured animal, pulling her hand back and looking over it.

Apparently, her yelp had caused some concern from Aemond, who rushed over– he broke the boundary they had set, and even more, he reached out to her hand. “Let me see,” he grumbled.

“No, no–,” her cry was cut off as they touched, and her vision went black once more.

It was storming. Thunder rumbled the ancient stronghold– but they were not in Harrenhal. She couldn’t quite fixate where they were, until she heard the tumultuous crashing of waves against chiseled stone. Storm’s End– the seat of power for House Baratheon.

Why was she here– why… Aemond was here as well. He was stanced as usual, his hands behind his back.

Another boy was there, as well– brown, shaggy hair and brown eyes. Harwin? He looked like Harwin– he was turning away from Aemond, walking out.

“Wait,” Aemond called out, “My lord Strong,”

Strong? There were no more Strong Lords– and not a young boy like this. Who… was he? When was this?

“Did you really think you could fly about the realm, trying to steal my brother’s throne; at no cost?”

“I will not fight you– I came as a messenger, not a warrior,” the young boy spoke. Alysanne could see his body language– he was… afraid.

Aemond smirked, “A fight would be little challenge. No,” he said, putting his hand up to his eyepatch, taking off the leather and revealing his sapphire eye underneath, “I want you to put out your eye. It is payment for mine. One will serve,” the prince drew back his coat, throwing a dagger to the floor towards the boy, “I would not blind you. I plan to make a gift of it to my mother.” 

The boy shivered, falling into himself inwardly for just a moment– then he took a breath, puffing out his chest, “No.” he declared, staring Aemond down.

“So you are craven, as well as a traitor.” Aemond hummed for a moment, the sound of Lord Baratheon’s cries to stop drowned out from blood pumping in his ears– hers as well.

Alysanne felt his contempt, felt his rage– bubbling, boiling right under the surface, just like the Fourteen Flames of Valyria. The madness in him was palpable, threatening to break his bones and turn him into a beast hewn of scale and wrath and tear this ‘Lord Strong’ apart brick by brick. 

She shivered; he truly was fire made flesh, an echo of a warrior long past– a god of War in his own right. 

“Give me your eye! Or I will take it, bastard!” Aemond exploded, advancing on the little Lord Strong like a predator–

Then they were in the sky, Aemond chanting taunts atop Vhagar– words that Alysanne didn’t inherently understand, but she felt it– in her bones, rattling around her chest and stomach.

It was a chase– a game of cat and mouse– or dragon and dragon as it may be. But Alysanne knew it was nothing of fairness. What was fair in a dragon of War, named after the Goddess of War, chasing a hatchling just large enough to carry a young boy? 

What was fair in that?

What was fair?

In her fairness, in her twisted justice– Vhagar’s massive jaws snapped the smaller dragon into pieces, along with Lord Strong, the remains of his existence scattered into the sea. 

The rage of Aemond quelled– quelled into a dull ache. It was replaced by a new feeling, mayhaps one Aemond hadn’t felt before.

Guilt. Remorse. 

Kinslayer. Accursed.

What had he done?

Her eyes opened– she wasn’t crying like usual, when she saw death. Usually it was impending death, something that perhaps she had a chance to change– but this… was the past, wasn’t it? Something she never could change, something that had already been lived and gone and was a done deal, sealed with the bow of death. She didn’t feel panicked, no– she felt hollow.

Aemond was holding her up again, cradling her like a delicate flower. He cleared his throat as he stared down at her. “What did you see?” he asked, his voice so quiet it was almost inaudible. 

“Kinslayer.” she murmured in response, her voice broken.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

A while ago, you wrote that you were planning on writing an essay about the "subtextual queer-coding" of Louis's character... I want it bad, CJ.

I've said that a few times now; to quote myself from my Javier's bisexuality essay, "-one day I'll crawl out of my bog to write my analysis on the queer-coding/subtext of Louis' character because if I read "lmao Louis is such a Straight" one more time, I'm going to let the gators take a bite out of me just so that I can feel something other than irritation for once."

Dramatic, but that's how I felt in the moment of writing that essay.

I have two twdg essays I'm working on with other ideas on the backburners, not to mention essays and other projects for other fandoms on my side blogs, among more personal works... so y'know what, anon? For you, I'll do a impromptu mini-essay right now since I don't know when or if I'll ever have time to dedicate a full-length deep-dive essay to the topic.

Also, big thank you to @pi-creates for once again providing me with screenshots!

Louis is bisexual-coded and CJ's gonna prove it [probably]

First thing's first: queer-coding, what is it?

Just so that we're all on the same page, here's the basic idea: implications that a character is queer through intentional [but not always] subtext, and/or the use of stereotypes to indicate a character's queerness without outright stating it. It's been around forever; look up the history of The Hays Code to learn more, but essentially the film industry was like, "That's it! no swearing! no more blasphemy! no drugs or alcohol! and definitely no homosexuality! good, clean, god-loving movies only!"

So, what were writers and film makers to do? Why, they code their characters, of course.

There's a lot to learn about the history of queer coding, the good, the bad, the in-between--but I'm not here to give you that lecture. I'm here to talk about Louis.

Ah, Louis. My favorite TWDG character. Love him. Adore him. Written countless thought pieces on him. Definitely bisexual.

Well, to me he is, anyway.

It's like a spidey-sense in the back of my head, I look at Louis and I go, "I know what you are."

When it comes to interpreting media, my stance is that while authorial intent is important, it doesn't dictate my interpretation.

I lean more into "Death of the Author" in all the media I consume, whether that be books, movies, TV, video games, etc... unless there's a circumstance where I feel learning more about the author would benefit my reading of their material... hence why I care little for what the writers/devs of TFS say about the story/characters as I don't want their influence, yet I'm reading all of Tillie Walden's books in order to better understand the Clementine books for my analysis.

As a bisexual myself, it's true that I may just be projecting onto my favorite character due to my desire to see a bi4bi couple in one of my favorite video games. That's how most headcanons come to be, no? We wish to see ourselves represented in characters we love, especially when we feel mis/underrepresented in media.

I believe Louis has some queer coding going on. I don't believe it's intentional, but it doesn't need to be in order to exist. It's there, I feel it when I play the game, no one gets to tell me otherwise.

First let's tackle the idea of, "how can Louis be bi if he's never seen flirting with any guys?" ...because I have a feeling that might come from the same people who say "he's such a Straight," y'know?

We know for sure that Louis likes girls--he has a crush on Clementine no matter what, and he makes a point of saying he's never had a girlfriend before... so if he's bi, why doesn't he also point out that he's never had a boyfriend before?

Because Clementine's not a boy.

No, really, it's that simple. Clementine is his only love interest in TFS, and having him bounce around flirting with everyone wouldn't be in character for him. He's friendly, sure, but friendliness and being flirtatious aren't the same thing.

But if he's bi, why wouldn't he flirt with his best friend, Marlon, or with Aasim? Mitch? What about the great chef god Omar?

I don't know--why doesn't he flirt with Brody? Or Ruby?

Again, I must point you to my essay on Javier and how much I disapprove of this notion that all bisexual characters have to "prove" they're bi by flirting with all genders--if they aren't running around DTF with everyone, then are they really bisexual???

First of all, stop that. A lot of people, usually straight, are under the impression that bisexuality is about who and how many people you're dating/sleeping with when no, that's not it.

Second, why would he flirt with them? He's not that type of character, and none of them are his love interest. His love interest is Clementine.

In ep1, during the card game, Louis asks Clementine if she's ever had a boyfriend [he wants to gauge her interest in boys since he's a boy], and he says she can ask him if he's ever had a girlfriend before [letting her know he likes girls] and that he hasn't, by the way. Hint hint.

Louis has no reason to add that he's never had a boyfriend, either. The game's making its intent clear with this: Louis is a potential love interest for Clementine.

It does this with Violet, too. It's just different. Violet doesn't need to explicitly state that she's only into girls, the game goes to great lengths to show us this through the writing. C'mon, we all know what "Minnie and I... we were close," really means. Your spidey-senses were tingling, especially if you're queer, too.

If you go fishing with Violet and Brody, you've told the game you're more interested in Violet than Louis at this point, so you find the heart with her and Minerva's initials carved in it. That's the game making another thing clear: Violet likes girls, she's the other potential love interest for Clementine.

Y'know, in case all the "Louis or Violet" choices weren't enough of an indication.

The first card game is usually what I see pointed at when someone goes, "lmao Louis is such a Straight" for asking Clementine that, and I'm like... this? Are you sure?

Honestly, my theory is people really want Louis and Violet to fit into the straight himbo/lesbian friendship dynamic, which like... you can still do that if he's not straight. I'm just sayin'.

"But CJ, how else would we know he's not straight if he doesn't show attraction to boys?"

By looking at literally everything else about him. He doesn't need to openly flirt with other boys to be bi. Bisexuality is more than that, it's a personal queer experience. There are things in the subtext of his character, and TFS in general, that lead me to believe he is.

Heteronormative thinking could be playing a part: "cis/straight's the default until proven otherwise." Hence why some need more "proof" of him expressing interest in people who aren't female...tbh I think some people are just dumb and miss the point of headcanon in fandom culture. It's not about what's objectively true with heaps of evidence, it's about looking at canon and interpreting it through our personal lens... but whatever it's fine, ignore me, I'll just continue on then-

I believe the Ericson crew don't operate under that line of thinking.

I touched on this a little before, but TFS's narrative is steeped in queer themes; an oppressive older generation who uses force to try to shape the Ericson crew to be like them, and if they fight back, they're punished; found family and acceptance, love in a world that doesn't want you; the troubled youth of Ericson being abandoned because parents didn't want to deal with them, sending them away to be "fixed." There's no getting away from it.

I think Louis puts it best when you appeal to him in ep1: "This is how adults do things, not us."

They're a generation who only had each other, abandoned by the adults who were supposed to love them, supposed to make them better. They're a generation of genuine acceptance when it comes to each other. Clementine and AJ are able to integrate with them because they're the same way. When AJ sees the heart with Violet and Minerva's initials in it, he doesn't question how two girls could be together, he just says, "Oh. Love." and then he moves on. He grew up differently than you and I, they all did.

We also need to consider where Louis came from before Ericson.

Louis has an artistic hobby in music, something we haven't seen before in TFS as we're often too busy trying not to die to explore hobbies. The most we see of something similar is when Mariana listens to music on a cassette player.

TFS introduced characters who have interests they pursue outside of survival, and they're more artistic things. Louis plays piano and writes music. Tenn's an artist who reintroduces AJ to drawing. Aasim writes and openly journals about the days as a record. Omar takes great pride in his cooking, which is an art in of itself. Violet mentions not being into arts and crafts, but she still makes Clementine a pin when you take her route, and she wants to dance with Clementine if they're romantically involved. Minerva had a talent for music, and Sophie for art when they were there, too.

I don't think I need to tell you that many look down on the arts--I think we're well aware. We're also aware of the stereotypes of men in the arts, no? "A boy who likes art?? Son, why can't you be normal and like sports!?" That nonsense.

Louis grew up wealthy with parents who gave him everything he ever wanted, except for one thing. As he tells it, he wanted singing lessons so he could be a real musician, but his father denied him; "You get to be happy, or you get to be rich, can't be both."

Huh... can't be both, can't have both, can't like both... where have I heard that one before?

Alright, maybe interpreting the use of the word "both" here as a metaphor for bisexuality is a major stretch. I know, but listen, in my experience there's always this feeling of "pick one" when it comes to outsiders who don't understand. The fact that Louis' father tried to teach him a "dad lesson" in this specific way is... interesting, to say the least.

The implication is that Louis was a spoiled brat and his father tried to teach him that you don't always get what you want in life... but why draw the line at music, specifically? Music is something his father could've thrown money at. Louis could've had the privilege of the finest vocal coaches at such a young age. He could've become a glowing success and never ended up at Ericson.

Music isn't gendered nor is it inherently queer... but I often wonder if his father would've had the same approach if Louis came to him and said, "I want to be a professional baseball player," instead. After all, in many circles it's more sociably acceptable to have a son who plays baseball, or any sport, rather than a son who takes singing lessons, no? And the fact that his father presents it as a "choice" between the arts and conformity.... C'mon, it's representative of a "choice" people try to enforce on bisexual people: pick the "gay" option and face the consequences, or pick the "straight" option and adhere to easy heteronormativity. That's not how that works, by the way.

But I digress, it's probably not that deep, but still.

Louis' response to all of this was basically, "Fuck you, I'm gonna destroy your marriage. That'll teach YOU a lesson." Real chaotic bisexual behavior here... Okay, I joke, but he's always been one for the dramatics, I suppose.

What I'm getting at is the concept of a character, typically masculine, enjoying the arts only for their more conservative family to disapprove makes an appearance in a lot of stories containing queer themes. It's understandable to raise an eyebrow at Louis for having a backstory like that, even if it's "not the point."

Now, let's examine his relationship with Clementine.

I will die on the hill that clouis is bi4bi.

Louis is peak bi love interest energy.

When we think of a typical straight male love interest, what do we think of? Specifically in the romance genre? I don't know about you, but I read a lot of romance, and well... the leading men tend to have some things in common. Y'know, he's unbelievably handsome and broody. He's an asshole but it's kinda hot? I guess? Not really, but the leading lady's into it. He's what you'd find under the definition of "toxic masculinity" but it's fine, she's going to fix him! With her love! He's really not that bad, he's just sad about his tragic backstory! And also, he's really hot!

Every time I pick up a book and I get the sense this is where it's going, I take a moment to debate with myself whether I'm willing to power through this in hopes that the book does something actually interesting with it... it usually doesn't.

Louis doesn't exactly fit in this mold, which in my opinion, is a good thing. Instead, he's charismatic and friendly. He cares about people and isn't afraid to show it. He watches over AJ until Clementine wakes up, and gives him his food after AJ eats all of his. He's interested in music, but he's not a weak survivor. He struggles with his self-esteem and the guilt of his actions hurting those he cares about. He's hurt and traumatized over Marlon's death and it causes him to lash out, but he gives Clementine a genuine apology. He strives to be better for her, AJ, and everyone at Ericson.

He's sweet with Clementine even before they're romantically involved, and if she doesn't share his feelings, he accepts that. He doesn't feel entitled to her. He isn't the "Nice Guy" trope.

He respects her autonomy, and admires the strengths she has rather than feeling threatened by them. He doesn't get jealous or possessive. He's never physically aggressive with her, and he never makes any sexist comments about how she can't do this, or how she needs to do this, because she's female.

It's the fact that he'd like Clementine no matter what. Louis feels like someone who likes who he likes regardless of gender.

Louis is soft, something that can be construed as weak, even though that's far from the case. It's not just his personality, either; let's take a quick look at his physical appearance.

Louis has a softness to him; long hair, freckles all over his face, his lips are fuller, he's tall and thin but not exactly broad in the shoulders, especially when compared to the other men in TFS. His appearance isn't considered intimidating, and I wouldn't say that his traits lean heavy into the masculine.

We joke about him being so fashionable in the apocalypse, but his long jacket is more evocative of "fashion over function," a stereotype often thrown at feminine fashion... though I suppose you could argue that's where he keeps Chairles so it is functional.

There's the way he presents himself, and yes, even the way that he stands at points, I have no other explanation for other than, "......it's the vibe, there's bisexual energy there."

Look, I'm no body language expert, okay...

...but c'mon, what is this?

I know it's dumb, but there's something to it, that's why so many of us make the "Louis ain't straight, look at how he stands" jokes.

All of this contributes to the subtext of Louis being a bisexual character. It's not about how many genders he openly flirts with, it's about how he's written, both as a character and as the male love interest. It doesn't matter how intentional it was because it's there, I recognize it.

Again, I'll reiterate that this is how I interpret TFS, clouis, and Louis as a character. As a bisexual myself, I'm going to have bias toward this topic. At the end of the day, it's fiction and Louis is a character, y'know? Headcanon is all in good fun, and I'd like to hear y'all's thoughts on this subject.

I don't know what else I can say other than, "Dude, just look at him!"

[ahouseofstarkdefender]

Beware the butterflies!!!

I would like to praise what Martin did today (on Aegon II's name day no less!).

He is not stupid. Honestly, I think he may have problems speaking and expressing himself, so he can't express his ideas when talking with dimwits (D&D, Condal & Hess) to reach some reason why they need to keep something on the shows, but when he writes he will blow up your mind.

And what he did today was amazing. Because I think that he put every word on purpose, in the way he always writes, with allegories and twisting things.

He talked about the butterfly effect. He called Maelor a butterfly, and he is.

They deleted a butterfly from the history of Westeros (series).

And Maelor, as Martin says, it's nobody.

"Maelor by himself means little. He is a small child, does not have a line of dialogue, does nothing of consequence but dies... but where and when and how, that does matter... "

And you see, with us, Maelor doesn't die in Bitterbridge, he died in the mind of Condal, and it changed everything for Martin for the series.

"Sometime between the initial decision to remove Maelor, a big change was made." he wrote

He was tired of HBO bullshit. He is rich, he is human, he has ONE dream and he wishes to fulfill it and then die in peace. He doesn't want to deal with this bullshit anymore, so he decides to break the NDA. Why? To piss them off?

No.

To slash them hard.

He spoiled Season 3 on purpose to force HBO to read the post. He revealed one scene. A scene everyone will know will happen. He actually didn't reveal anything because anyone who read F&B knew it would happen. What did Martin reveal? That it would be a meaningless scene. He can defend himself claiming the spoiler is already in HIS book. He can talk about HIS story whatever he wants.

I bet Martin took down the post with a smirk. Knowing it was already late for HBO. The damage to their "amazing" story is done. The author, who they claim is on their side, had spoken. They had been defending their bullshit claiming Martin is on their side, and Martin got tired of being dragged in the mud and defended himself calling them incapable of thinking.

"I have no idea what Ryan has planned - if indeed he has planned anything..."

There are still at least two seasons, and Martin doesn't want this series to end like GOT. He knows talking time behind the doors has already tried (and failed), so he decided to push them.

"There are large and more toxic butterflies to come if HOUSE OF THE DRAGON goes ahead with some of the changes being contemplated for seasons 3 and 4..."

He finishes with this message. With this warning. He is telling us, the fandom, the outline doesn't look good (it may be worse), and he is tired of shouting at a wall, so he decided to attack them with a simple post, a post everyone would read by spoiling a simple scene everyone knew it was going to happen, to hit HBO to react.

And he used Maelor, a simple, innocent and deleted butterfly from the history, to make them see the consequences they were causing.

I can imagine what were some of those "toxic butterflies" they want to come to the story, so Martin is preventing it making them hear him. And the fandom.

Yeah, they are trying to make damage control, and I'm sure their lawyers are shouting at each other, but Martin doesn't care because, in the end, he is right. And now he is going to be heard for once.

[hetaliaimaginesin2022]

I love America, can we get college au jock x nerd? thank you

I fear I'm an America simp right now, I love him

Jock America With a Nerd Partner | College Au

Al was quite popular in the college

He was charming with gorgeous eyes, kind to everyone, upbeat and incredibly good on the sports fields, participating in baseball and football (not to mention, single)

You however, excelled in your own right through academics, and were popular, albeit in a smaller group than Al, through the school's debate team, tutoring program, and e-sports

Suffice to say, you two didn't fall in the same social circles, and considering you were on a college campus, you two didn't get the chance to talk to one another naturally

There was an encounter between you two in the form of an offer of tutoring however

You were called during working hours, where you were payed by the school to provide tutoring services to students who were struggling academically

Apparently Alfred, while excelling on the field, was far less gifted in class and needed to pick his grades up or he'd be benched

The professor requested that you tutor him three to five days out of the week, logging each, assisting him in english, history, and health (though, interestingly, he seemed perfectly capable in math and some sciences)

You hadn't tutored someone other than the occasional lesson and really only agreed because it looks good on a resume and was easy money, but you couldn't a good excuse to say no, and agreed

You found him to be extremely kind and energetic, and even on assignments he struggled, he kept going with a happy face, even if, during breaks, he's complain about the "difficultness" of some of the work

Because you had to spend so much time with each other, you two became closer, opting to talking about yourself here and there, mainly prompted by him

After finding out you did E-sports, he attended one of your teams unofficial practices, and watched you sweep, taking a victorious win, and was quite impressed with your skills

He learned about what you were attending college for and why and in return, you learned that he was attending for aerospace engineering and worked hard at the subjects that benefited his degree, not caring about the ones that didn't, which made his grades make sense

One day, you were two were holding a tutor session early in the morning after his workout, and he decided to go for coffee and doughnuts before you started bringing the books out

Hoping in his lightly rusted, cherry red pick-up truck, he drove you two to the nearest place

He was in a t-shirt that clung to his body and a pair of sweatpants, his hair was still damp from the quick shower he took and he was energetically talking about how his morning went, his eyes look gorgeous in the early sun and his smile was beaming

You decided he looked incredibly handsome and that maybe your couple months of friendship had the potential to form into something deeper

As both classes and game season were drawing to a close, his grades improving significantly thanks to your help, and midterms went off without a hitch

After the last football game of the season, he sprinted up to you immediately after the game and picked you up, smiling wildly and laughing

It didn't matter the score, or how he preformed, you were there, watching him and rooting along, he was having a blast

In that moment he really wanted to kiss you, but realized you two weren't even dating

Ultimately, he impulsively askes you out

When you say yes, he's overjoyed, and goes out to a fast food place to celebrate