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cambion-companion · 1 year

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Can u imagine Aegon slapping someone's ass but then she turns around and bam, Aemond's wife 🤡 He slapped her ass. Ass of Y/N. Ass of Aemond's beloved lady wife. Aemond saw. He may not kill but that doesn't mean Aegon will get away with it

hahaha listen I had to write this Anon message into a fic it's too funny...(post writing edit) Aemond got more angry than I thought he would so enjoy him popping off I guess!

Aemond x wife!reader | Protective Aemond | Run, Aegon, run

The night was growing late, and the goblets of wine quickly emptying. Especially Aegon's, you noticed, with a roll of your eyes. You glanced over to where your husband sat at the end of the long oaken table, catching his eye and sharing an aggrieved expression as Aegon called loudly for the serving maid to return.

Aemond's angular face was set in a stern expression as his violet eye flicked back to watching his brother, half rising from his own seat as Aegon stumbled to a stand. "More wine! Bring that serving girl back...the one with the large tits!" His face was flushed, and he could barely stand for how drunk he was.

You sighed, shaking your head as you moved toward where Aemond had his place at the table. Aegon stumbled forward, still in pursuit of his favorite drink as you brushed past him. You felt a blow to your rear, sharp even through the fabric of your skirts as Aegon smacked a hand to your ass, groping you a moment before letting go.

The small dining hall fell silent, even the musicians ceased their playing, all eyes looking in shock at what had just occurred. You had to take a moment to fully register what had just happened...as did Aegon by the look on his plastered face as you slowly turned to face him. His bloodshot eyes widened as they took you in, quickly swiveling toward where Aemond was now standing.

"Aemond I-" Aegon hastily began to defend himself but was silenced when, with all the might you could muster, you smacked an open palm across his face in a stinging blow. "Fuck. Fuck!" Aegon stumbled back, clutching his cheek with both hands. "You vicious little bitch!" The drunken prince, eyes darkening, took a heavy step toward you, his hands curling into fists.

In a blur of movement that sent you stumbling to the side, Aemond was between the two of you, his hand grabbing the collar of Aegon's shirt to yank him close. "You forget yourself, brother. That is my wife." Aemond hissed into Aegon's face.

"I don't care if she's Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, she hit me!" Aegon protested, trying to free himself from Aemond's iron grasp.

With an almost animalistic growl, Aemond dragged his brother across the room toward the exit. The other people in the room watched with wide eyes and whispered behind their hands as they went.

"Aemond!" You called, hurrying to catch up with the two men, resisting the urge to rub at your sore rump.

You had a very real fear that your husband was about to murder his elder brother, especially as Aemond slammed him against the stone wall of the empty corridor outside the dining hall.

"Gerroffme!" Aegon writhed, choking a little with the force of Aemond's grip.

"Aemond!" You grabbed your husband's elbow, trying to ease the pressure he was applying to Aegon's throat.

"Apologize." Aemond seethed, his teeth bared, heedless to your tugging at his arm.

"I thought she was a servant!" Aegon gasped. "I would never-you know I wouldn't touch your wife knowingly!"

"Maybe you should stop assaulting women altogether, Aegon." You said severely, suddenly thinking Aemond was applying just the right amount of pressure to his throat.

"You will apologize to my wife and every other woman you have touched against her will." Aemond pressed his brother harder into the wall. "Which is quite a long list."

Aegon was silent, weighing his options, fighting to breathe, his hands still scrabbling at Aemond's forearms. His lilac eyes flitted to your face, he fought to control the sneer that itched up his lips as he looked at you. "I am sorry."

"Aw, you mean it?" You deadpanned, glaring daggers at him.

"Touch her again and-"

"Yes yes, I will regret being born. Can you let me go now, I can't breathe, Aemond."

With a sound halfway between a snarl and a sigh Aemond turned his head to look at you. You nodded. "Let him go."

Aemond abruptly released Aegon, making no moved to help him as he almost crumpled to the ground. "Make your apologies and pray I don't catch you harassing anymore girls." Aemond spoke, his voice deadly calm. "Spend your desires in the brothels you like so much."

"Fuck you." Aegon spat on the ground at Aemond's feet. "When did you become such a champion of women's honor?"

"Since I married Y/N." Aemond took a menacing step toward him, causing Aegon to shuffle backwards instinctively.

You grabbed Aemond's hand, coaxing him back to you. Aegon looked ready to spit again but thought better of it. Instead, he shook his head, derision written all over his face as he turned and stomped back into the dining hall.

"Are you alright?" Aemond brought your interlocked fingers up to his lips. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"I...no. He just surprised me is all."

"I could kill him sometimes."

"He's your brother, Aemond."

"The bane of my existence."

You laughed. "Like I said: your brother."

He smiled at that, finally relaxing a bit, his hand still firmly around your own. He reached around with his other hand, caressing your aching backside carefully, ducking his silver head to place a kiss to your mouth.

"If he treats all maids in the Red Keep like that..." You shook your head.

"He's done much worse." Aemond nodded, face grave as he studied you. "It is passed time for it to end."

You squeezed his hand, nuzzling into the crook of his neck as Aemond drew you closer into his arms. "If there's anyone who can, hmm, convince him to stop it's you."

"I hope you're right, my ember."

The two of you remained in the empty corridor, entwined, breathing in the comforting scent of one another for quite some time. You didn't return to the dining room, instead making your slow way hand-in-hand back to your chambers where Aemond called for a steaming bath to be poured. The hot water and firelight welcoming you, but nothing was so comfortable as the feeling of Aemond's warm arms around you, always holding you close to his heart.

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such-expensive-mistakes · 6 months

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Superpham AU (part 7)

Masterpost

A short one today, but I thought this section was funny (until it got sad again).

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It’s a quiet evening in the Lane-Kent household: Lois is trying to turn her notes into an article, Clark is going over Jon’s math homework, and Jon is watching a show Lois is only half-following. It features lots of gunfire and explosions, though Lois’s— unfortunately extensive— experience with witnessing real violence makes the version on TV look cartoonish. She suspects that is part of the show’s appeal.

Danny is paying about as much attention to the TV as Lois is, engrossed in something on his phone. At least he’s in the same room as the rest of them, instead of sequestering himself away.

“Hey Lois?” Danny suddenly asks.

Lois looks up from her work. “What’s up?”

“Did you know the internet thinks you’re Superman’s girlfriend?”

Lois knows that if she looks at Clark, he’ll be turning red, the way he always does whenever this particular subject comes up. Lois herself is barely holding back a laugh. Jon’s wrinkling his nose, looking thoroughly embarrassed by his parents.

“Well, I am,” she says, barely keeping herself composed.

“No, I mean—” Danny begins.

“You mean people say that I’m dating Superman and married to Clark?” Lois glances at Clark, who is now hiding his face in his hands. “Someone forgot to check for cameras after rescuing me a few years back, and we got caught kissing on film. It was let people think Superman is a homewrecker or let them think I’m in a polyamorous relationship with my husband and his alter ego.”

“That’s… really weird.” Danny is giving her the kind of judgmental look only teenagers can give.

Lois does laugh at that. “It is, a bit. But it helps protect Clark’s secret identity, so I don’t mind.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Clark finally says. “There were other ways to handle that situation; she just thinks this is funny.”

“Even your parents think it’s funny,” Lois says. Clark just sighs, faux-aggrieved.

“It’s not even the weirdest thing on the internet about Superman,” Danny says. “It’s just the weirdest thing everyone agrees is true.”

“Please do not tell me what else you’ve found,” Clark says.

“You can tell me,” Lois says. “We can just make Clark leave for a bit.” Reading conspiracy theories about Superman is her guilty pleasure, though if anyone asks, she does it to keep tabs on anyone who might have a viable way of hurting him.

Danny just laughs, and something in Lois’s chest seizes up. Is this the first time she’s heard him laugh since he came back? She thinks it might be.

She doesn’t want to call attention to it; like as not, that would just make him pull away again. Instead she says, “Superman doesn’t even get the best conspiracy theories. Those are all Batman.” That’s because Bruce purposefully cultivates them, of course, but that’s not important.

“Which one is he, again?” Danny asks.

It’s not that Lois ever forgets that Danny has spent most of his life in another dimension. But little offhand comments like that… they really drive it home. There are plenty of superheroes, even Justice League members, that most of the general public has never heard of— but Batman is not one of them.

She's saved from answering by Clark.

"You'll meet him eventually," Clark says. "He's a good friend of mine. And Jon and Kon are close to his two youngest sons, Robin and Red Robin."

Danny nods thoughtfully. "Right. I think Red Robin's in the group chat Kon added me to."

Lois reminds herself to thank Kon next time she sees him. He and Danny seem to have connected, and Kon seems to have made it his personal mission to keep Danny from slipping too far into one of his funks again.

"Speaking of Kon," Clark begins. "Ma and Pa want to know when we'll be able to make it to Smallville to visit."

They've been trying not to overwhelm Danny by introducing him to too many new people at once, but maybe that was the wrong choice. Maybe they should be pushing him to get out more, to connect with this dimension. Besides, Kon spends most of his time in Smallville, and they already know that he and Danny get along.

Lois re-evaluates the article she’s been working on. Perry would probably appreciate it sooner rather than later, but if she turns in a smaller article this week, she can probably swing a weekend off. If not, she can always work on it from Kansas.

“This weekend should work,” Lois says. “If that’s alright with you, Danny.”

Danny looks a little surprised to be consulted. “I— yeah, that works. Not like I have anywhere else to be.” He laughs a little, but the joke falls flat, and Lois resolves to double down on helping Danny connect with more people here in this dimension.

#superpham au #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic

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incognito-lionbeast · 11 months

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Though, the TLDR of the Moshang wedding scenario is:

Shang Qinghua invites Liu Qingge to his Demon-centric wedding. Not because they’re close, but because half the demons there end up too distracted flirting with an Increasingly Aggrieved--but very Enriched--Liu Qingge to try their hand at covertly assassinating Shang Qinghua (as per royal wedding custom).

[[ I was inspired by this post RE other demons perceiving Liu Qingge as one of Luo Binghe’s (attempted) suitors. So, I had the thought: since LBH refuses to accept LQG, why not steal him instead? ]]

Either way, a mostly-healed Tianlang-Jun is also invited to the wedding out of courtesy. Both he & Shang Qinghua have a Very Good Time watching the show, if for slightly different reasons. It’s perhaps the most entertaining wedding Tianlang-Jun has been to in ages! How delightfully clever of Mobei-Jun’s intended.

Meanwhile, Mobei-Jun is annoyed by the lack of respect from their guests while also impressed by his (bizarrely) resourceful bridegroom. He was curious how Shang Qinghua planned to survive the wedding ceremony/celebration, believing very strongly that he would. Yet......

Mobei-Jun is placated by Shang Qinghua’s high spirits. That’s his husband.

#There are other guests #like Luo Binghe & Shen Qingqiu are there #and Yue Qingyuan but like.#they are less important in a TLDR >u<#anyway I think this is both Stupid (Silly) & Plausible enough to meet my HC criteria #SVSSS #Moshang #Shang Qinghua #Mobei Jun #Liu Qingge #Tianlang Jun #bay babbles

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lexsssu · 6 months

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Hope (Uchiha Itachi)

TAGS: Itachi/Dragoness!reader, aged-up characters, canon divergence, pregnancy, parenthood, smut, oneshot Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

“So soft...so beautiful...and all for me…”

“Mmmm...I’m yours, Itachi…”

Something dark within the Uchiha heir purred in delight at your admission, a side of himself that he refused to release and even acknowledge for it was everything he believed he was not.

Sprawled against the feathery soft futon of your new marriage bed, the young man allowed himself to drink in your full beauty as his sharingan spun and copied your very image, a remembrance of the first night you’d laid together. An eternal memory of the night he will take your maidenhead and fulfill your promise to commit yourself to one another for eternity.

Your snowy strands were spread across the bed, your wedding kimono having been opened mere moments ago by his own hands to reveal the pillowy mounds on your chest that seemingly taunted him with each breath you took. But what truly mesmerized Itachi was the blissful smile on your face and the tenderness in your eyes as you gazed up at him, making him feel so vulnerable and exposed even if he was still fully-clothed.

The Curse of Hatred meant that every Uchiha was capable of the greatest love and friendships, but also the most severe animosity. Itachi himself knew that should anything happen to you, even he who dedicated himself to the Will of Fire can so easily fall into the Curse of Hatred that plagued every Uchiha.

“Husband...You’re my husband now, Itachi. That means no one else can have you,” your full lips were set into an adorable pout, the aggrieved expression only serving to further send blood into his loins. “All of you is just for me, which means that all of me is only for you.”

When a man is presented with such a cute wife, how can he even hope to resist her charms?

As rigid as Uchiha men may seem, they still bled the same red that everyone did and loved just like everyone else. All that differs is that love can make them the greatest or the worst men.

And like all men, what else can he think of during his wedding night other than thoroughly loving the woman he pledged his very existence to?

“I love you…”

Whispers of love were exchanged between you two when the man finally slid the thickness of his length into your weeping pussy after preparing you thoroughly with skilled hands and a relentless mouth. You watch with hearts in your eyes as Itachi’s cock seems to split your untouched cunt wide open, drool dripping down your open mouth with each high-pitched moan he coaxes out of you.

The pain of one’s first time is easily ignored, seeing as you weren’t human anymore ever since transmigrating to this world and that the one you were engaging in this act of love with is the man whom your heart rejoices in. Instead, you were only panting, whining, and whimpering with how slowly he was going inside of you as if you’d break.

When your lower lips finally meet with the short dark hair at the base of his dick, Itachi pulls out until only the tip remains inside of you before thrusting back in and setting a steady pace. Your whole body shook and shuddered with each precise stroke and movement, obscene amounts of your own fluids dripping from your center and wetting his length.

Itachi’s sharingan remained active throughout the night as he fucked you into the futon. Trying position after position and practically saturating you with his essence with how much cum he’d given you.

“I know that it is not easy to change the way Uchiha’s think or regain the trust of the villagers, but I know that I want to try. I know that I want to make a difference so that all our future descendants can walk with their heads held high and hand in hand with everyone in Konoha.”

He whispers as if sharing a secret while you were seated on his lap, his cock still nestled inside of your oversensitive cunt as if to plug it in and keep all the cum he’d so graciously given you inside. You were facing him as you sat, tender breasts squashed against a firm chest while your hands anchored themselves on his strong shoulders.

“I want this child to grow up with not just love and support from the clan, but also everyone in the village that my ancestor helped establish,”

“And they will. Slowly but surely, we’ll make everyone understand each other.”

As you gaze down at him with golden orbs filled with hope and cradle his face with warm hands, Itachi feels that his dream of peace may not be so far fetched after all.

#lexsssu writes #naruto #itachi uchiha #uchiha itachi #itachi x reader #itachi uchiha x reader #itachi uchiha x you #itachi uchiha x y/n #itachi uchiha smut #crossposted on ao3

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brostateexam · 5 months

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Let's talk about stage 3 colon cancer.

That's what my BiL has. He's been feeling kinda bleugh for the last few months -- diarrhea, cramping, bloating. He had an abdominal CT that showed a kind of mass in his upper GI tract, so they did a colonoscopy to see what was going on in there.

The results were not awful but not great.

On the plus side, the cancer hasn't spread to other organs (ie not Stage 4) which is super important when you have any cancer in your abdomen because there's a lot of organs nearby. They removed the tumor on Tuesday and as of today he's already walking around and recovering at home, albeit in a greatly diminished sense compared to someone who didn't just have laparoscopic surgery on their abdomen. As someone who has had that: your core strength is just gone after that happens, and that's quite disconcerting. Also, they put the IV in his hand and it sounds like he's having a non-dangerous but painful complication where his hand hurts a lot and gripping stuff is agonizing.

As for the bad stuff, beyond the fact that it's cancer so it's inherently not rainbows and ice cream sundaes, it was a really, really big tumor, and the surgeon said he'll likely need chemo afterward, too, so the recovery process is gonna be months, and it's really going to suck.

My personal feelings on all of this are honestly complicated by the fact that I do not care for my BiL at all. He's a bad husband to my sister and a terrible father to my niece and nephew. He is constantly whining about what a terrible life he has -- and prior to this cancer diagnosis, he really didn't have much to whine about. He lives a middle-class suburban existence in a nice house with two cars and two kids. He has enough money to buy himself a new guitar to noodle around with every six months or some other toy like that, he works from home, his wife is the primary breadwinner at this point and also the primary caretaker of their kids, housecleaner, and cook.

And still, constant negativity, dissatisfaction, and whining.

I'm about 95% sure that they're heading for divorce. My sister has said that she's not going to try to leave him until after he's done chemo and the addition in the house is complete, whichever happens last, but I think in a few years time he won't be an aggrieved hovering presence during the holidays and frankly that would be lovely. Watching him yell at the kids makes me want to throttle him, and when I'm around I know he's behaving better than he would otherwise so I can only imagine what happens normally.

Anyway, I do hope he gets better. I don't want him dead. I just kind of want him gone.

#*cancer

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thegreymoon · 2 months

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The Story of Minglan

Let's see how far through this episode I can get without wanting to smack a man. Gu Tingye in particular.

***

Oh, delightful!

The Emperor has picked up secret gardening and his trusted subjects are there to watch him play with dirt like a baby 🙄

I preferred the old Emperor, honestly. This one seems incompetent, but I am putting my hopes in his son and Gu Tingye to keep the Song Dynasty from collapsing.

***

Shameless 🤣🤣

I love how he just goes up to Emperors and demands they give him things 🤣🤣

That's how he got the spear from the old one too!

***

Oh, Rulan, you don't know what a hard life is even as a concept 🙄🙄

Also, LOL, I love how smug Wang Ruofu looks here 🤣🤣

***

LMAO, I love how Rulan expounds on how true love is the meaning of all joy and happiness and Miglan just looks at her like she's lost her mind 🤣🤣

I know that Minglan will eventually experience romantic love with Gu Tingye and tie her entire life to him, but her current state of mind is such an aroace experience 🤣🤣

***

LMAO, their friendship remains one of my favourite things on this show 🤣🤣

***

I can't watch 😫

Like... I know Gu Tingye already knows about Rulan and her boyfriend. It is a part of his plan, in fact. I know that Rulan will not actually come to any serious harm.

BUT STILL!

This drama has instilled sheer terror of secret romances in me 😖

***

The way he cannot deal, LMAO 😅😅

And he was having such a good day, too!

***

And it is the poor servant being beaten again, smh.

***

Well, it's good to know that at least Wang Ruofu would not let them kill her.

***

I have to say, while I do feel sorry for Rulan for getting caught up in Tingye's bullshit, I love this for Sheng Hong!

Not one daughter, but TWO!! getting caught in an illicit affair 🤣🤣 It couldn't have happened to a more deserving man!

***

Coincidentally 🙄 Accidentally 🙄🙄

But how did he even know that they would be there at exactly that time?? IS HE IN LEAGUE WITH THAT JING FELLOW?

***

LMAO, honestly, if my marriage prospects were the men in this drama, I would sooner become a nun too!

Anyway, Granny is PISSED and I am living!! 🔥🔥🔥

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Oh, now she's your daughter, is she 🙄

***

LMAO, I love Granny! 💛

***

Is this Rulan's boyfriend?

I don't think I ever got a good look at his face.

***

LMAOOOOO, WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT WON'T BE AGGRIEVING MINGLAN??

SHE HAS MOVED OOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNN!!

Her better options include: 1) marrying Gu Tingye, 2) marrying He Hongwen and 3) becoming a nun.

You have no chance.

***

LOL, you'll settle nothing.

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LMAO, he's so pleased with himself 🤣🤣

Is sis Hualan matchmaking for him?? 👀 Her husband works for Gu Tingye, after all, it makes sense they would be in on this plan.

***

Said the man who has done nothing but lie, sneak and scheme 🙄

Smack him, Minglan!

I mean, yes, also marry him, but smack him hard first!

***

LMAO, you are about to be served a big piece of humble pie!

I'm going to love every moment of watching you fail!

***

MTE.

#the story of minglan #tsoml spoilers #tsoml ep38

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blackkatmagic · 10 months

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Jaster/Granta in "woke up married"

When Granta wakes up, it’s to a splitting headache, a ring on his finger, and a frankly obscene amount of sunlight streaming in through the entirely uncovered windows.

“Ugh,” he says with deep disgust, rolling over and burying his face in Jaster's blanket-covered hip.

“Not the most resounding affirmation of our marriage,” Jaster says dryly. He’s sitting up, leaning back against the headboard with a pad up, and Granta opens one eye to squint up at him.

“I don’t think you should be taking that tone with me after I dug you out of a Sith temple,” he informs his new husband, but tips his head to look at what Jaster is doing. “Looking up solicitors to get us divorced?”

“Looking up planets without extradition treaties to the wider galaxy,” Jaster says without hesitation. “The moment Myles hears I married a crime lord, he’s going to mobilize all of Mandalorian space to hunt me down and then mount my head in his parlor.”

“I'm a businessman, officially,” Granta says lazily, though the part of their meeting where he killed a Sith ghost and rescued Jaster from an eternity of torment as a Sith soldier—not for altruistic reasons, of course, but because he’s been meaning to add the book Jaster had latched onto to his collection, and Jaster had tried to take his head off when he attempted to retrieve it—probably undercuts the assertion slightly.

Jaster hums, unimpressed but indulgent. “You're also officially my lord and master,” he says, apparently unbothered by this as he scans the pad. “So, husband? What dastardly commands do you have for your enthralled servant who exists at your pleasure?”

With a snort, Granta rolls over onto his back, raising a brow at Jaster. “You might be a thrall to my will,” he says dryly, “but if last night proves much, it’s that I have to beg you to do anything.”

“Mm, you do beg very well.” Jaster lowers the pad, sweeps a glance over him. He pauses, clearly debating something, and then says, “If we were to tell Myles that you have absolute control over my will—”

“I'm very fond of you,” Granta informs him. “Specifically of your cock. But even for you, dear husband, I'm not going to piss off the kriffing Mand'alor.”

“Coward,” Jaster tells him, but it’s amused more than aggrieved, and he leans down to kiss Granta lightly.

Granta smirks lazily, sliding a hand into Jaster's short hair. “Oh, absolutely. That’s the best part of being a criminal overlord. I don’t have to worry about moral uprightness or any principles beyond self-preservation. You should try it.”

“So you saving that Twi'lek girl who verbally abuses you and calls herself your bodyguard—”

“We’re not bringing Eldra into this.”

“Or your angry pet murderer—”

“Or Maul. Close your mouth.”

Jaster laughs at him instead of listening. But then, last night’s mad bit of impulse while thoroughly sloshed was largely focused on the hope that being married would make him listen slightly better than the dastardly Sith magic, so that’s not exactly a surprise.

[Buy me a coffee?]

#my writing #kat drabbles #jastergranta #jaster mereel #granta omega #star wars

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shady-tavern · 3 months

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Preview of "Doll House" the February Patreon Short Story

(warnings ahead for implied murder and attempted kidnapping, please take care of yourselves)

*.*.*

There was an old, abandoned manor outside the town, the road leading up to it overgrown and half swallowed by vegetation. There were plenty of rumors surrounding it, that years ago a powerful sorceress had lived there and one day she had vanished without a trace.

Other rumors said the place had belonged to a terrible woman who kidnapped people off the streets to turn them into monsters and one day the gods had struck her down, banishing her from this world.

Some whispered that the manor had been a meeting place for an obscure cult that wanted to revive a dead god, complete with blood sacrifices and ritual chants.

But no matter the rumors, they all had one thing in common: the manor was haunted.

Plenty of friends dared each other to set foot into the manor, it was practically a rite of passage at this point. But no matter who went inside, they all ran back out screaming, terrified down to their bones and a number of them had returned bleeding and bruised.

Some babbled about headless creatures, the next talked about living shadows and others again whispered that there was a terrible prince of the underworld calling the manor home, his hair red as blood.

You remembered a year when the mayor had decided to get the building either torn down or renovated, but no matter who had shown up, be they priests or adventurers, they all had been chased from the manor without fail, refusing to go back in.

These days there was a standing order to leave it be, the mayor hoping that the manor would rot and erode away and one day it's inhabitants would be gone with it.

You had never set foot into the manor yourself, too busy working and running errands for your parents, but you had glimpsed it a few times here and there when you had visited a neighboring town.

It was a tall and ominous structure and after every storm it looked just a little more worse for wear. Mostly though you put it out of your mind, you had other things to worry about than a building that didn't hurt anyone so long as they didn't set foot into it.

"Welcome home," you heard your mother call out as you entered the house. "Would you join us in the kitchen? A potential husband is here to see you!"

You bit back an aggrieved sigh, a dull headache immediately starting to pull at your temples. For weeks now your parents were of the opinion that you had to get married regardless of your opinion on the matter.

In your opinion, they were miffed that their neighbors had made such good matches for their children, marrying their sons and daughters away to merchants and rich farmers and even the daughter of a famous adventurer in one case.

You, on the other hand, had no desire to marry and most certainly not when the other person was a stranger. You wanted to marry for love, which was a sentiment that had brought you quite the derisive lecture from your parents.

Love didn't matter when money and stability could await you instead. They conveniently didn't mention their envy for those around them with good fortunes or their jealousy if someone did better than them. Your parents were braggarts who liked to spread tall tales about themselves in the tavern, at market day and with any travelers they spoke to.

You knew they had been richer than they were now once, but had gotten tricked to give up a chunk of their savings, after which they had been forced to give up a number of luxuries as a result.

It had left your parents bitter and angry and since they hadn't managed to get their fortune back on their own, they were counting on you to do it instead.

Their bragging had brought people to their doorstep to meet you and ask for your hand, but, well, you were very ordinary. So ordinary in fact that plenty of people had described you as quite plain in the past. Mediocre at best.

Taking a bracing breath, you took off your cloak and boots to put on your house slippers instead and you walked into the kitchen without a smile on your face. You weren't going to lie to these strangers who had gotten lured here by your parents' promises of your talents and gifts and good looks.

The thing was, you did have a talent. A little spark of magic that no one knew where it had come from, but your parents hadn't hesitated in selling your services to anyone who wanted to pay enough. Anything that had broken you could fix with just a touch of your hand.

So far, the lack of good looks and the kind of dowry your parents had boasted about had ensured that all prospective partners had bowed out graciously. Rather quickly even.

The fact that you didn't want to get married had caused a number of them to leave as well, citing that they did not desire a spouse that would end up resenting them for taking away their choices.

When you saw the man sitting across from your parents at their table, you knew immediately who he was. There had been rumors surrounding him for months now, whispers about the exiled lord turned merchant. The wealthiest merchant of their lands, the man whose fingertips supposedly turned copper to gold.

The man who was rumored to collect magical folk to take revenge on the people who had ousted him from his position on the king's council. Who had taken his nobility away from him.

You met his gaze, cold and calculating and pleased and you knew with a bone-deep certainty that he'd wed you. No amount of plainness, no lack of a generous dowry and no refusal on your end would change that.

"My dear," he said, all refined grace and gentle tone and sweet smile and hungry eyes. "You are truly radiant."

What a fucking liar.

"Your fiance is truly generous," your father said with a jovial tone and equally hungry eyes. "He's paying us your dowry in exchange for a swift marriage."

The former lord kept smiling like the sweetest, gentlest man and you knew to others he would have looked like a dream. Rich, rather good looking and with plenty of business connections for his wealth to keep growing.

"No," you said, lips numb and your heart pounding in a way that carved fear into the inside of your ribcage with every beat. "I don't want to marry him."

The looks your parents sent you almost made you flinch, threatening and dangerous, their smiles suddenly made of blades.

"There will be a wedding," your mother decided firmly and the former lord nodded amiably, like you hadn't said anything at all. "We will meet you at the temple tomorrow."

Your father got up, his hand clasping your shoulder. What would have looked friendly and encouraging to outsiders was in truth a painfully tight hold that kept you from escaping.

You barely heard the rest of the conversation, your knees feeling faintly weak. A part of you reasoned that there was no need to be this scared. That it was a bit nonsensical in fact. You had heard nothing but rumors about the former lord and rumors were hardly ever completely true. He had been nothing but polite and even as he left he offered you a little bow.

But your gut instinct was yowling like an angry cat, raking sharp claws down your spine in warning, tugging at your innards, demanding that you escape. Get away.

You held carefully still and said nothing when your parents berated you sharply after closing the door behind their guest. You stared at them blankly, fingers cold and shaky.

They started to talk about all the fortune you would bring them, that you had to think of your parents for they had raised you, after all. Weren't you going to be a good child, they loved you after all, didn't they?

The cold numbness was replaced by a sudden surge of anger. It burned the ice away and gripped your heart, made your spine snap straight and your lips itched with the instinctive desire to pull back and bare your teeth.

"I'll head to bed," you said, interrupting their lectures and cajoling and needling. Their guilt-tripping, as if you had been at fault for all their bad decisions in life. As if, by them deciding to have a child, you had signed a contract to be at their beck and call.

You went into your room, closing the door behind you a bit sharply, ignoring their huffs and reprimanding remarks. You heard muffled steps before the door got locked from the outside.

You were angry enough to scream.

Exhaling explosively, you started to pace, wrangling the anger and betrayal and hurt writhing through you under enough control that you could think. You eyed your window, gauging if you could squeeze outside and escape.

You should run, even if you had no money on you. Your ability to repair all kinds of things should help you with landing a job somewhere, or you could exchange your skills for money like you had done your entire life. Only, this time you'd get to keep the money instead of handing it over to your parents.

Swallowing, you stood still for a long moment, weighing the unknown of the large world out there against the marriage to a man who would marry you against your will. In the end, it wasn't much of a decision.

You grabbed what things you could gather without drawing the attention of your parents by making too much noise. The last thing you wanted was for them to catch on and nail the window shut.

You very gently opened your clothes chest to grab a change of clothes, using a jacket to knot everything into a semi-practical bundle. There wasn't really anything else you could take, not with your small, practical backpack hanging on a hook by the front door, along with your cloak and shoes.

You sat on your bed and waited, heart pounding strongly. You waited until the sound of dinner came and passed, until you heard the steps of your parents as they headed to bed and then you waited a little more.

You waited until the moon stood right above the house before you eased the window open. Gently and carefully, bit by bit, so it would be as quiet as possible. Peering outside, you forced yourself to wait another moment to see if the shadows would move or someone's steps would rustle the grass growing in the yard.

You listened carefully for someone's breathing and shifting, any hint that someone was waiting outside to stop you from escaping. You didn't put such a thing past your parents.

But there was no one, at least no one you could see. With the bundled up clothes tucked under one arm, you carefully wriggled outside, bare feet finding cool earth and faintly damp grass.

Your heart was pounding hard enough that it felt as though you held a giant drum between your ribs. Slipping away from the house on quiet feet, you only allowed yourself to exhale with relief once you climbed over the fence to reach the neighboring yard. All you had to do now -

Hands grabbed you, one clamping over your mouth to muffle your startled yell and you were hoisted off your feet like you weighed nothing, pressed against a broad chest.

"I was hoping you'd run," you heard the former lord's smiling voice ahead of you. He addressed whoever had you in their grasp. "Let's leave before the parents wake up, don't let that one get away."

With rising horror you quickly connected the dots. The former lord would kidnap you and this way he wouldn't have to marry you or pay your parents for your hand. He could play the snubbed fiance tomorrow at the temple and leave with a swish of his fancy cloak and a scathing comment. Your parents would be fuming, but they wouldn't find you.

No one would, if he took you and before long, everyone in town would assume that you had run, disappearing into the big wide world. And under any other circumstances, they would have been right.

No matter how hard you fought, the arms that kept you clamped against a stranger's chest were as immovable as iron bars. The hand covering your mouth gripped you so tightly it was going to leave bruises, your jaw hurting.

"What a fiery spirit," the former lord laughed quietly once he reached an alley between houses, a carriage waiting for him. "That's going to be very useful, please hold on to that."

It sounded mocking and in the dim lights of the carriage lanterns, you saw the way he grinned at you, condescending and triumphant. The carriage door was decorated with a rearing horse with two blades crossing behind it, the metal shining in the low light. It looked like a coat of arms, which wouldn't surprise you, considering the man in front of you was a former lord.

He opened the carriage door with a fancy little flourish and your captor managed to wrangle you inside with minimal trouble, mostly because when you tried to put a foot against the carriage frame, you realized that they would absolutely just shove you in and break your leg in the process if you didn't move it.

Apparently, so long as you didn't die or grew unfit for work, it didn't matter if you got hurt.

You got tossed onto a seat and the carriage door was slammed shut before you so much as scrambled into a sitting position. You heard a lock click and two people climbing onto the coach.

Within seconds the carriage lurched into motion and you found yourself falling back against the cushioned seat, head spinning and fear clawing your insides to ribbons.

You had to get out, you had to escape, but when you threw yourself against the carriage door as best you could, it held strong. Your hands scrambled around in the dark, fingertips trying to find some kind of weak spot, any kind of weak spot.

You felt panic and despair beating higher and higher, like an injured bird caught inside a room, frantically bumping around faster and faster with increasing helplessness.

Until your fingertips found a small corner of where the window used to be and a plank of wood had been nailed onto it instead. You dug in.

By the time you managed to pry the edge away, your fingertips were bleeding and everything hurt, but it didn't matter. It didn't matter when you managed to put your whole weight behind it and slowly pry the plank of wood away bit by bit. You had to be careful not to grip the nails that poked out on the other side of the wood.

When at last you pulled the plank full away, you were covered in sweat and you realized the carriage had left the town behind. Peering outside carefully, you saw the lights of the town growing further and further away, the forest rising dark and ominous to the right and left.

The carriage had to slow down now, however, to avoid accidents and that was probably the best chance you were going to get. Tossing the board aside, you reached outside to grope around for the handle of the carriage door. You found it, along with the latch that kept the door locked tight.

Fumbling that open, you waited until the carriage slowed a little further to round a bend in the road before you yanked the door open. You still fell more than you jumped outside, but that didn't matter, not when you managed to roll to your feet again almost immediately without hurting yourself.

You heard shouts behind you, the door banging noisily against the carriage and you didn't waste another second to sprint into the forest as fast as your feet would carry you.

You heard the sound of someone hitting the dirt behind you and heavy steps following, your heart racing faster and faster and you suddenly, viciously understood how hares must feel fleeing from hunters.

You certainly felt like a prey animal, running and leaping over roots and branches, your body feeling lighter than it ever had as your panic pushed you onward faster and faster, desperation sharpening each and every single one of your senses.

You had no idea how you avoided running into trees or tripping over roots, but you couldn't avoid the wrought iron fence that suddenly loomed out of the dark. You slammed painfully into it and the second your fingertips found something to hold onto you hauled yourself up.

You reached the top just as someone slammed into the fence a little to your left and you didn't dare look back and check, instead you just jumped down the other side.

Staggering upright again you started sprinting for the large house looming ahead, the manor – that manor, the haunted one, you realized – your breathing as fast and heavy as your heartbeat.

The manor might be your only chance to escape. Even if you had to face down whatever lived there, be it ghosts or demons or other horrors, they might take care of your pursuer as well. You had to bet your life on that, or you'd end up back in that carriage.

The property truly was as overgrown and rundown as stories had said, the steps leading up to the front door uneven and worn and dead leaves crunched under your bare feet. The front door wasn't locked, to your immense relief and you threw it open, rushing inside and immediately you tripped over a fold in the foyer carpet.

Sprawling down painfully, you scrambled to get up, hearing heavy steps pound up the stairs behind you. You did look back now and you got a glimpse of your pursuer, of the blank mask that covered their face. It was too flat to allow any space for the nose and there were no slits to peer through. It was just one solid, thin piece of metal.

Instinctively you knew that whoever that was, whatever that was, it wasn't human. It might not even be alive. You stumbled back without looking away, your heart now pounding painfully hard, each beat feeling like the fall of a hammer against the inside of your ribcage.

You stared at the thing heading for you as unerringly as a force of nature, when all of a sudden, a large shape dropped to the ground between the two of you with a heavy, loud crash that even the thick foyer carpet couldn't fully muffle.

When the shape straightened, you stared up at an incredibly tall person with strong shoulders and a dancer's grace. Long legs and long hair that shimmered a dark, bloody red.

"You are not welcome here," a smooth, steady voice said, a man's voice, and you saw a blade glint as the man shifted his arm. The blade in his hand was lowered but at an angle that would allow a quick upwards sweep. "Leave or we'll make you."

There was a beat of silence, weighty and tense and you noticed another moving shape along the ceiling, just barely visible in the dark. Your pursuer stood still, motionless, before taking a single, firm step forward.

*.*.*

Would you like to read more? Then please consider heading over to my patreon! A new short story awaits every month! They're written with a lot of love and care and might be just right up your alley! I hope you have a lot of fun reading them =D

#my writing #preview #patreon #short story #magic #dolls #monster lover #found family #this is a long one everyone #I very much hope you'll like it!

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illuminatedferret · 1 month

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For @beekindish! Thank you for the prompt! Have a Birthday-extra ficlet :) Did you know that listing is a sewing term? I didn't, before writing this!

“...Xie Lian, what are you doing,” Mu Qing suddenly said sharply. Not expecting the interruption, Xie Lian released a quiet ‘ah!’ as he accidentally jabbed the sewing needle into the meat of his finger. “Xie Lian!” Mu Qing repeated, aggrieved now.

He reached out for the bleeding finger, but Xie Lian quickly lifted his hand out of reach, laughing sheepishly. “I’m fine, I’m fine!” he said. His tolerance for pain really had gone down if a mere pinprick left him gasping.

Mu Qing gave him a doubtful look, but didn’t fight it, instead rolling his eyes and saying, “tell your ghost king you said that when he gets on my case about it. More importantly- what the hell are you doing?”

His voice was pitched with both suspicion and horror, and made it quite clear that whatever Xie Lian was doing, he was doing it wrong.

Which wasn’t a good sign, considering his goal with this project. How could he show up empty-handed to his own husband’s birthday?

“...Sewing?” the scrap god offered. Thoughtlessly, he rubbed his fingers along the length of fabric in his hand, only realizing when it was already too late that he’d smeared blood along it in the process. “Ah.” Well, now Hua Cheng definitely wasn’t going to want it.

Mu Qing snatched the bloody fabric away, turning it this way and that with a progressively darker expression.

“What did you do to the listing?!” he cried, looking so dismayed Xie Lian nearly laughed.

“What the fuck is a listing?” Feng Xin asked, peering over his shoulder.

“Bandage his finger,” Mu Qing snapped back, jerking his chin at Xie Lian’s still-bleeding finger. Ignoring the protesting ‘hey!’, he jerked his head back towards Xie Lian again.

“And you,” he said with dark promise. “I am giving you a lesson. You better listen.”

Sweat trickling down his temple, Xie Lian nodded gratefully.

#tgcf #xie lian #mu qing #tian guan ci fu #beekindish #heaven officials blessing #illuanswers #illuwrites

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tarisilmarwen · 10 months

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Rebels Rewatch: "Stealth Strike"

In which, Character Development! and other exciting features.

I mentioned the husband loves Star Wars ships right? This is another one of his favorite episodes, he loooves the Interdictor class.

Always liked this little musical flare at the beginning, already conveys a sense of urgency and danger.

Sato sounds so aggrieved that he has to have Ezra along, lol.

I mean from his perspective Ezra's just an overconfident plucky kid, he hasn't been around Ezra long enough to know how competent the boy is.

Love the staggered Force Theme prelude in the strings there, all broken up and disjointed. Once again Ezra is sensing impending danger.

Still adore the kaleidoscope color effect Rebels uses to mark being forcibly ejected/yanked from hyperspace.

Bbbyyyyyyyy. :((((

Worried Spacefamily be worried.

Hera wisely understands that the best way to infiltrate a top-secret Imperial project is to keep the aliens off the mission lol.

Kanan is being predictably petty about having to work with Rex.

"I sent Ezra... this is the only way." Ouch. I bet Hera is feeling pretty guilty and has thought a lot about this since they learned about it, so you know she's run it through a million times in her head. Probably why Kanan acquiesces to her judgment.

I wanna know the thought process behind the Imps' decision to haul Ezra and Sato in to see Titus. Like, Sato I get, he's the obvious commander of the unit but I wanna know which trooper saw Ezra and was like, "Hmm, he seems Plot Important, I better drag him along too."

Sato still very much Not Impressed with Ezra's posturing.

Hi Brom Titus!

It's hilarious that Ezra's sarcastically used "Jabba the Hutt" so often it's been logged as a known alias of his lololol.

The Giligan Cut between Rex complaining that he'd never wear Stormtrooper armor and Zeb bringing them unconscious troopers to steal the armor from. <3

"I thought it was the same one we used before." LOL. Okay, I gotta stop before I quote every line in this episode.

Can't help it, it's just so fun.

We cut to the shuttle mid-hyperspace and Rex and Kanan are still bickering, but even in the middle of that we get some lovely worried Papa Wolf Kanan hyperfocusing on Ezra as his priority.

I swear it was explained somewhere what the specific codes Rex gives meant but I can't for the life of me remember where now. Pretty sure one of them meant the shuttle was going to explode? Anyway...

Rex seems like he's having just a grand old time. This must feel just like the old days for him.

Lol Kallus getting excited about Ezra's capture and warning Titus "[...]do not underestimate that boy." He knows firsthand how much of a threat and nuisance Ezra can be.

A little variation on the Death Star theme here, kind of appropriate given this is a very similar-feeling kind of infiltration and rescue.

Maybe that's why I like this episode so much, has a lot of A New Hope vibes.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: Chopper's legs jerking as he rolls over the hump in the doorway.

The ANH vibes continue with this turbolift scene, which is just hilarious. From Rex not knowing which button to push to the Imperial officer snarking at our hero duo, it's just... *chef's kiss*

They are a disaster pair and I just love them.

Cut to the troopers that are escorting Ezra to his "secure cell" and I'm sorry, I adore this whole sequence. Ezra being a little hyper-competent badass is my whole jam, okay?

This is so clever. <3333

Ezra makes very short work of his guards, without really hurting them (something that would contrast in S3 after the whole Malachor Loss-Of-Innocence thing) and then immediately shoots his intended rescue party lololol.

I love how smoothly he moves through this whole scene. He's obviously been practicing and of course the Force operates on a principal of "the more at peace and in tune you are with yourself, the greater strength you can channel" so after his whole soul-searching in "Brothers of the Broken Horn" deal he's come to some kind of serenity within himself that lets him be just super awesome here. Love it.

<333333

Chopper immediately rats Ezra out lol.

Kanan reluctant to split up from Ezra, aww.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: The way Ezra raises his hands in aggravation when Kanan and Rex get into it again.

Ezra finally chews the two of them out for all their bickering and takes charge of the mission and you can't even tell me he didn't make Kanan just a smidge proud, with that comment about how, "He takes after Hera sometimes." <3333

No but seriously, fandom of course loves Kanan and Ezra's whole "like my father before me" vibe but let's not forget how it was Hera who first took a shine to him, who saw potential in him, who knew that he wasn't as selfish as he pretended he was, drew out that inner spark of compulsive compassion planted by his parents and has been influencing him on the Rebellion side of things to complement Kanan's Jedi teaching.

Found Family liek woah. :)

Brom Titus looking a little less confident now that the scrawny fifteen-year-old he was specifically cautioned not to underestimate has given them the slip lol.

*cries* He was so TINY!

Very glad Ezra learned binary, it enables hilarious conversations like this.

This is yet another music cue recycled from the Death Star sequence in A New Hope. Like I said, they're really leaning into that this episode.

This little troll I love him so much.

Bit of the "Shenanigans" theme as Chopper rolls up.

Can I just appreciate how well Ezra rolls with blocking shots in zero gravity?

I think Chopper enjoyed all of this a too much lol.

Remember, giving people grief is how Chopper shows affection. :)

Love how they lampshade the terrible vision quality of Stormtrooper helmets.

Sato all ready to square up with this random trooper until he sees it's Kanan.

And his anxious worry over Ezra's welfare is really sweet. Sato does care, he might find Ezra bit aggravating but he's still just a kid in Sato's eyes, someone who was under his protection. (One wonders if Ezra reminds him of Mart a bit.) It's not Sato's fault he's only now learning what a precocious badass Ezra is lol.

This move of Kanan and Rex's is slick.

Lightsaber Naruto run.

I've been told this horn cue is Rex's theme. Makes sense.

Heeeeey remember what I said about Rex's deathseeker tendencies? Yeah.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: The drifting smoke in the hallway from the firefight holy cow. Attention to detail.

"I serve the order you put into place, Captain." Ohhhhhh Imma dent his face in.

*hurts in Order 66 feels*

THEY WERE JUST TOOLS TO PALPATINE, THEY HAD A SINGLE PURPOSE AND HE JUST DISCARDED THEM ONCE IT WAS ACCOMPLISHED.

This Hitchcock Zoom with Kanan as if he's sensing Rex's pain. <33333

Character growth! <33333

Ezra one-manning this hallway with Skill and Confidence. <33333

My gosh look how smooth and effortless this is for him. No wonder Sato was impressed.

Nice to see more classic lightsaber positions creeping into the choreography here.

Ezra being all, "OH HECK NO, THERE WILL BE NO SELF-SACRIFICING TODAY!" over the comms. He's very tired of them doing that lol.

The dolly shots this episode are tight.

Aww Ezra still looks really worried tho.

Don't think about him remembering, "I'll take the next one." and "I'll be right behind you."

Aaaaaaaand Chopper just scored the highest body count on the show, lol. (Up until the finale anyway with the Dome explosion and the purrgil-ening.)

My gosh this show even makes total destruction look pretty.

Yeah, getting a top-secret Interdictor prototype imploded is pretty demotion worthy ha ha.

Love how Kallus is basically perfectly fine assigning all of that chaos to Ezra in particular. XD

KANAN SALUTING REX NOT ONLY AS A SIGN OF FINALLY BURYING THE HATCHET BUT ALSO TAKING UP THE MANTLE OF SOLDIER HE WAS SO RELUCTANT TO AT THE BEGINNING OF THE SEASON.

This is one of the best episodes of the season, no joke. It's fun, it brings the nostalgia without being kitschy, it lets Ezra and Sato have a little bit of nice interaction (underrated relationship, fanficers have let me down), it shows how Ezra's developing in combat, it finishes the whole Rex and Kanan animosity plot, and Chopper murders three whole Imperial cruisers effortlessly.

Love it.

#star wars #star wars rebels #rebels rewatch #liveblog #ezra bridger #agent kallus #space dad and his precious pumpkin child #stan ezra bridger he's great

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haggishlyhagging · 6 months

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Most medieval discussions of the clitoris were written by men, largely for an audience of other men. In this context, discussions of orgasm and how women experience it are entirely focused on the ends that men require: progeny. They are not about sex for pleasure but about how to elicit a specific bodily response. Hence we can understand why the clitoris would be overlooked in medical manuals, because the only time anyone really needed to consider what women experienced during sex was as a medical hurdle to be overcome. Orgasms existed to make babies, and you needed to start worrying about that only when the babies didn't arrive. Until that point, why consider how a woman might orgasm at all?

The theory that orgasm is required for conception has truly disturbing and dehumanizing aspects. When it came to women making their livelihoods as sex workers (about whom we will speak more in Chapter 4), it was often said that they could not become pregnant. That idea had a doubly deleterious influence for the women in question. First, it encouraged men to not consider the paternal implications of penis-in-vagina sex with the women they hired. Second, it classed sex workers as individuals outside the bonds of ordinary sex. Incapable of pleasure and driven solely by an interest in money, such women could safely be ignored, as they had jettisoned even the grasping lustfulness of the usual woman.

Medieval thinkers admitted that in some rare cases, sex workers did manage to find love with a man. In these cases, romantic love was said to rekindle her sexual interest and therefore her ability to procreate. Still, the women in question were wholly sidelined. They are passive sexual beings, waiting either for money from their clients or for romantic solace from any man who deigns to have them and let them once again become "real" women, a state determined by their ability to have children.

Equally distressing were the implications for victims of rape that orgasm was required for pregnancy. Rape was largely thought of as a property dispute between men, with the aggrieved party being the man who lawfully held the woman in question as a part of his house. The wronged party could therefore be a father (or other male family member) or a husband. With this understanding, for rape to be made right, the woman must simply be returned to the man whose authority she is designated under, be that her father or fiancé, and "pay the price of her purity," which is to say a fine to the man in question. This concept makes the very definition of rape malleable. Aquinas does not differentiate, for example, between an unmarried woman who is taken from her parents' house and forcibly raped, or a woman who is taken from her parents' house and subsequently decides to have what we term consensual sex, and what Aquinas calls the "act of fornication." Further, if a woman is taken from her parents' house and decides to marry her abductor without the consent of her parents, that too is rape. The key to the definition is the consent of the man who is perceived as controlling the woman in question.

Medieval thinkers generally agreed that rape was a grave crime and that women who were attacked could not have pleasure from the sex act. However, women who had been attacked, and were by all discernible means greatly distressed, sometimes became pregnant. The philosopher William of Conches (ca. 1090-1155/70) came up with an explanation for why pregnancy could happen: "although raped women dislike the act in the beginning, in the end, however, from the weakness of the flesh, they like it." In other words, if a woman became pregnant following her rape, it meant she had ultimately enjoyed herself.

This sneering approach to the distress of women certainly has roots in the general concept of humans as sinful creatures driven by base instincts, the hallmark of Christianity as a whole. It also speaks to the fact that women were understood to be much more prone to such weakness than were men. Attributing "pleasure" to a woman during sex could as easily be turned into a tool to shame her after a traumatic event, as it could be used to encourage loving men to consider the needs of their partners during sex.

-Eleanor Janega, The Once and Future Sex: Going Medieval on Women’s Roles in Society

#eleanor janega #medieval history #female pleasure #male rape #female oppression #male entitlement #sex workers in history

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paperstorm · 7 months

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We have seen Carlos using “Tyler” in serious and tender moments but what I would also like to see in season 5 is Carlos using it in moments where TK got himself into troubles or up to some chaos

Like say…TK secretly building Lou 2 a ramp or something(he only continues with his craftsmanship when Carlos is on shift and hides it secretly somewhere in the garage). He has mentioned it to Carlos before but of course Carlos was all NOO? that thing is gonna crawl everywhere around the house??

And then just as he is carrying the in-progress-DIY ramp from the garage to their loft- he hears Carlos (who is back from an early shift) voice calling him “Tyler Kennedy strand…”

Or maybe something like TK secretly trying to help Carlos with the investigation even though he has been told not to as Carlos fears for his safety. And then while stalking the suspected, he hears his husband voice from behind him, in cool icy tone “Tyler” and he knows he’s in deep sh*t

I love this so much. Pulling out Tyler like an aggrieved parent 😂 Gently letting TK know okay, I gotta reign in the chaos just a little bit, my anxious husband needs a break.

#911ls asks #back like queue left some

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thisisallthehattersfault · 8 months

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Excerpt from my Wei Wixuan Descended From Hualian Fic

"Xingan," Wei Chaoxiang says, aggrieved. "The boy is sixteen. Sixteen, for heaven's sake! And he carries himself like he's been carved out of stone!"

Cao Yinuo purses her lips and presses her fingertips together the way she does when she's trying not to show that she's upset. "We cannot go around adopting the children of random sect leaders, most especially while those sect leaders are still alive," she says, but Wei Chaoxiang knows his wife and hears the reluctance in her voice.

"That's an easy fix." She looks at him like he's an utter fool, which, fair. But still! "Look at that child and tell me he has ever in his life experienced a shred of parental affection."

"... Jin Furen is--"

"Bah!" Wei Chaoxiang does not make a habit of interrupting his wife, and to do it now highlights how fired up he is. "That woman happily betrothed her son to a girl he despised for most of their acquaintance, the fact that he came around in the end means nothing. Even had he not, she would have forced them to marry and damn either of their chances at a happy future."

Cao Yinuo hesitates. Picks uncertainly at her nails.

Wei Chaoxiang pushes onward. "Jiang Fengmian's disgraceful neglect of his children is shameful enough, but at least he doesn't have Jin Guangshan's reputation, which Jin Furen seems entirely too passive about exposing Yanli to. What must it have been like for Zixuan, growing up under that shadow? And more to the point -- we are a reflection of the company we keep! What does it say about Jin Furen's character, that she counts a woman like Yu Ziyuan as her closest friend! She may not take a whip to her own son, but she would surely to someone else's, and that's another weight the boy has to shoulder. At sixteen! He's hardly out of his milkteeth!"

"Our own boy is only a few years older," Cao Yunuo says, though her stony defiance is melting.

"Exactly! They're babies, the both of them! And Zixuan looked ready to burst into tears when I told him he'd done well last night."

His perfect, wonderful, brilliant, ever-loving wife sighs with all the exhaustion of an immortal grown weary with the passage of time, and fixes him with a Look. "So, after so many years of avoiding the Sects entirely, we're now going to just show up and adopt all of their children?"

"... Maybe not all of them."

"Husband."

"Well -- oh, but that Nie Mingjue is hardly into his twenties isn't he? And already carrying so much responsibility. And Xichen, of course, if we're to have Wangji then we simply must have his brother, and it's not like he couldn't do with a kinder hand than Lan Qiren seems willing to give. And of course Wanyin and Yanli, if Jiang Fengmian didn't want me to steal his children from him then he shouldn't have kidnapped my nephew, and they're a-Ying's siblings, we can't just abandon them... Hm."

"The Wen boys."

"The Wen boys! Yes, I'm not fond of the Wen boys, and I'm afraid it's too late for an intervention to matter there. Unfortunate, but that's the way these things turn out some times. So it's not all of the children. Just the ones who need us."

Cao Yinuo looks up at the statue of Granduncle like she's hoping he'll come and rescue her from her foolish husband, but she doesn't actually call out to him. She only raises a hand to rest gentle fingers on the red silk thread, dangling from the statue's own outstretched hand. "... I suppose," she says, softly, "That the family may have -- may have been too distant, since Changze died. Clearly things have gotten out of control without us around to keep watch. If they want to -- if they want to, Chaoxiang, you cannot actually steal these children -- if they want to, then it's not like we don't have space at the table."

"Yes!" Says Wei Chaoxiang, and wraps his arms around his perfect, wonderful, brilliant, ever-loving wife to dip her into a kiss to show his gratitude.

#mdzs #the untamed #Wei Wuxian #not present but tagged for visibility #OCs #WWX's uncle and his wife are like Morticia and Gomez #insofar as they are Constant Adding New Family Members #A child cannot Sniffle within ten meters of them without getting adopted #normally Cao Yinuo is fully on board #its only the sect politics that give her pause

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