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vidavalor · 3 days

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Hey Vida, I have some milk chocolate sea salt caramels to share. *Passes the canister*

Have you written about this moment yet? I'm guessing it has come up but I can't recall specifics.

The time loop hypothesis that includes the idea that Crowley figures out what is happening and starts actively trying to influence things helps me understand why Crowley would say this - that he would despair after having been unsuccessful in every attempt he'd made to change the final outcome, to save Aziraphale's life. I know Crowley has some timey-wimey stuff going on generally, like his knowing the future and making all sorts of references to things that don't exist yet... I am very curious to know what you think Crowley's deal is and what is happening for him here.

...

Also, do you think Aziraphale knows from the beginning of S2 that he has fallen? I mean, the other angels refer to Aziraphale as a former angel and principality right to his face, don't they? I remember wondering about this the first time I watched the second series. I kept waiting for the show to clarify just what exactly Aziraphale's status was...

Well, this is a more oddly worded question than I remembered. One cannot simply be "a bit of" a fallen angel wtf game are you guys (gn) playing at? Leave that perfectly frosted cinnamon roll alone!

...

Also, I am still full of so much anticipation wondering what I asked you last time! I am positive it had to do with innuendo lol

Hello to you, my fave @iammyownproblematicfave! 💕I am SO sorry about the other Ask-- I determined you asked about the innuendo in the "very nice" scene & I'm going to whip you up a batch of etymology around the insanely complicated history of the word "nice." It got lost in my Drafts folder for a little while there and I overlooked it-- will remedy that shortly! Here's thoughts on these questions and thanks for asking.

On Crowley, time & "too late" and Aziraphale, fallen angels & heavenly rank under the cut.

First, time loop idea and Crowley's "too late" comments... So, anything is possible, right? That said, I don't think it's a time loop because I think there are scenes that explain why Crowley says "too late" at the end of that episode. I wrote about how it ties to unicorns & Wee Morag a bit in another post and I'll link it at the bottom of this one.

Basically, Crowley's anxious in that scene where he threatens Gabriel and then says that "it's always too late." Crowley's memory is iffy-- he admits as much to Gabriel later in S2-- and even if he was lying to Saraqael and/or Furfur about not remembering them, we know he struggles to recall all of his memories from when he was an angel. One memory that he felt confident about was the one he told Beez earlier in the season-- that The Book of Life is bunk that he and Beez made up to tease some of the more innocent angels. It is likely that this memory of Crowley's is correct. I say that because Beez seemed to think it possible when they heard it-- but then Beez felt like a fool at the thought that they'd been threatened by Heaven with something that didn't exist and that they themselves and Crowley made up. They doubled-down and insisted to Crowley that The Book of Life was real.

Crowley suddenly thought that Beez might be right because, hey, they'd run Hell for so long, they'd know more than he would, right? He starts to doubt his own recollection and he rushes back to the bookshop to help protect Gabriel as a way of protecting Aziraphale because he now is terrified that Aziraphale could be erased from existence if he is caught helping Gabriel. He doesn't want to tell Aziraphale that Beez reached out to him because he knows Aziraphale is sensitive about the fact that none of the angels have talked to Aziraphale in years and that their only source of intel is a demon with a thing for Crowley (Shax) so Crowley doesn't ever tell Aziraphale how scared he is about The Book of Life. Meanwhile, even though Gabriel is basically on their side now, Crowley can't exactly ask him if it's real or not because dude only knows Buddy Holly songs for basically the whole season lol.

So, in addition to worrying that Aziraphale is spiraling (because he is) and that helping Gabriel could mean that Aziraphale is risking his mental health and a fall, Crowley is also now terrified that Aziraphale could be made to have never existed. It's on his mind so much that he growls at Gabriel in that episode-ending scene that Aziraphale could be "risking his existence" for Gabriel and then muses about how it might be "too late-- it's always too late..." I don't think this is a time loop indication. I think it's a reference to other times Crowley has said "too late" in the past, like the unicorns and when Wee Morag died. It's about how it might be too late for him and Aziraphale and they might be running out of time and be on a collision course with death while not knowing it-- like how Elspeth never saw the fact that it was her last night with Wee Morag coming. It's Crowley's anxiety talking. Crowley thinks it's too late to turn back now because they're already helping Gabriel and Shax is sniffing around and they might be nearly out of time.

Crowley does have some time-related stuff happening in his story and the ability to control it but it seems to me more likely that Crowley's ability to remember that he has control of it has been taken from him in the present in S2 than it is that he's in a time loop. In the disaster kiss scene with Aziraphale, Aziraphale is really obviously signaling to Crowley a request that he freeze time. (It's obvious to us, I mean-- Aziraphale hid it from The Metatron by curving his hand.) He was trying to get Crowley to do what he did on the tarmac in S1 when he stopped everything and took them and Adam to a little time out cloud to help Adam figure out how to deal with Satan.

Crowley, though, just kind of stares at Aziraphale, even though this is literally one of the most recognizable hand signals on the planet. He also didn't just do it himself at the start of the conversation. If I were the villains, I'd be damn sure that Crowley didn't remember that he could freeze time after S1 and Crowley was gone all night before this scene (which he also doesn't seem to totally realize, no matter how many people around him keep commenting on how it's now morning.) The story, to me, seems to be suggesting that the Crowley & time stuff in S2 is that he doesn't recall that he can control it.

re: Aziraphale and what his angelic status/rank is in S1-- the cherub/principality/"you've been a bit of a fallen angel" bit...

When Michael and the other angels corner Aziraphale in S1 and Michael says that they've been learning some "disturbing things" about Aziraphale and that he's "been a bit of a fallen angel", the disturbing things are, imo, the photos of Aziraphale and Crowley that Michael has dug up. (Hypocritical much on Michael's part? Their phone chats with Ligur? That Gabriel knows about and lets them get away with but Michael wants to go after Aziraphale for having a relationship with Crowley? Yeah. Gross.) Michael and Uriel are threatening Aziraphale with a fall in the scene when they corner him. Uriel says "and don't think your boyfriend in the dark sunglasses will get you special treatment in Hell." They're using their power to threaten to cast him out as a way of trying to intimidate Aziraphale, which is another way of showing how political falling is and how it's all kind of b.s..

A demon is a fallen angel, by definition. That's the definition of a demon. Heaven has socialized angels to believe that the demons are all evil-- that they're devout followers of Satan and horrible people and to associate with them is to sully yourself with their satanicness and all that lol. In reality, there are some evil demons-- Satan is evil, Ligur was pretty bad-- but there are also some evil as fuck angels... The Metatron at the top of that list. In reality, the demons are the angels who put notes in the metaphorical suggestion box. They stood up and spoke out and questioned things. They're the curious, free-thinking "troublemakers" whose questioning of authority threatened to crumble The Metatron's power so he reacted by ostracizing them. He made a sense of the demons being "other" and evil. He invented Hell and banished them all to it-- lumping curious rebels like Crowley in with evil like Lucifer/Satan and using them as examples of what happens to those who dare to question. There really is no such thing as "a demon"-- there are just angels who have been told they're no good and that they've been cast out and are part of the collective owned by and working for Satan.

In S2, we get another bit of info about a fall when Gabriel falls. The Metatron can't send Gabriel to Hell like he would other angels because he did that once with Lucifer/Satan-- the last one to have Gabriel's job before Gabriel-- and once is "a good story" (meaning, once is a cautionary tale that keeps angels in line) but twice would suggest "an institutional problem"... twice would cause a rebellion. Twice would show that the problem is really Heaven. But, The Metatron has to do something with Gabriel, so he's going to erase Gabriel's memories (he tries to before Gabriel enacts Operation Fly and saves his memories thanks to Beez) and cast him down to a new rank of angel that they've just added to the bottom of the pile-- just for Gabriel lol. It's all political, which is how Crowley and Beez fell back in the day as well. They were caught up with Lucifer and held up as examples of evil when it seems that they really were just looking for others who were questioning things, too.

Does Aziraphale realize he's falling in S2? I think there's some language in the kiss disaster scene that indicates he suspects he might be and that he doesn't fully trust in what The Metatron is offering him-- or that that's really The Metatron. I don't think he realized he was falling until that point. It's a question, though, of what a fall really is. There are many ways to fall. You can literally fall from a great height. You can fall in rank. Both of these things happen during a fall from Heaven, in Good Omens, from what we've been told, but there are other types of fall. You can also fall in love. You can fall into despair. These ones? Aziraphale knew about. He fell in love with Crowley a long time ago and despair is always something he's working at keeping at bay, sometimes more successfully than others. In the end, his fall from Heaven is tied to both of those other kinds of falls.

But is Aziraphale already something of a fallen angel, like you asked? What of the fact that he was a cherub at one point and is a principality? Which is higher rank? We are told in the book that people "make jokes" about the fact that Aziraphale has both of those ranks. The word 'joke' comes from the Latin jocus, which literally means 'wordplay' and I think maybe looking at the different kinds of rank in Heaven through that angle might be worth a look. (Me? Taking a wordplay angle? Who would've ever thought? lol)

Who outranks who can be shown to us by how the characters behave in the scenes but the ranks of angels are more about what the words mean than about exactly which level that rank is, I think. For instance, there is some evidence that a throne and a dominion are the same level of rank-- that an angel can be both at once... which makes more sense when you consider the power aspects of those words and that here's our throne/dominion leaving his chair to dominate his plants in S1:

People are complex and need more words than one title might allow.

Aziraphale can be a cherub and a principality because once you start to get into the meanings of all of these words, you can see that which ones are given to Crowley and Aziraphale are done because of how they support who the characters are-- and how they overlap. I have a meta that I've been playing with from time to time about the different meanings of principality/dominion/throne and how Crowley and Aziraphale are both really all of them. I'll try to finish that one up soon. If you look at wordplay around the word "rank" itself, though...

...a rank is a placement or a position in military order, yeah, but it's also a bad smell. Something that is rank is something that is foul and offensive. One of the themes of the show to me seems to be that, whether you're an angel or a demon or a human, you possess your own power and no one can take that away from you unless you let them. Empowerment and freedom is the realization of that. We're all equal beings. The characters who are the least interested with power systems-- the ones who have freed themselves from concern about it and live as independently as they are able-- are the ones who view others as autonomous beings and do not support oppression of others. They are the least rank because they are dismissive of the idea of rank itself.

So, while we're having fun with words here... those who are the least rank are also probably not rank in the scent sense of the word, too lol. This would be why we have a multiple scenes devoted to how everyone is in a faint over how great Crowley smells. He's the least rank of them all-- in every way possible. 😉

The other "too late"-related meta:

#ineffable husbands #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens 2 #aziracrow #good omens meta

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paranoidgemsbok · 5 months

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ive been having a terrible time trying to keep stock in the online shop because its been selling so fast in person and im so bad at figuring out what exactly to make extra of

#like if i make a double batch of something then no one wants it #if i make a mini experimental batch its gone before i leave the shop after restocking #i shouldve made more gunch soap and now its too late!!!#we finally got more sugar scrub containers yesterday #now im waiting for shea butter and clear jojoba oil and i need to order a bunch of fragrance oils #AND im waiting on a candle jar shipment #ppl are getting excited about these car diffuser things we finally got labels. on marissa sold like $200+ just bringing them into her work #i have a bin of shit to take to the shop tomorrow

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empty-movement · 5 months

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Chiho Saito’s 1999 Revolutionary Girl Utena Original Illustration Collection

IT’S HERE. IT’S DONE. IT’S FINISHED. NOW…IT’S YOURS. Happy Holidays, my friends.

Vanna here! I have posted some already about this project, and the responses I got, public and otherwise, have been absolutely incredible. Y’all have been reblogging and hyping this before it even finished…I haven’t felt so encouraged about an Utena project since the musicals! (Yes, streams soon, I promise.) You can read the other post to get more details, and catch my post here with more details about the process if you’re interested. The long and short of it?

This is the first artbook I ever scanned. I did it in 2001. In Photoshop, using multiple scans per page that took hours to process. But it was 2001. A half megabyte file that was 1250px wide was considered extremely hardcore and impressive. That’s just always been the business I’m in when it comes to Utena art, you know?

It’s now the latest artbook I’ve scanned, and so much of the process, and effort involved, is unchanged. What has changed, is the result. Welcome to your new desktop background. Your new phone background. Your new poster print.

What I’ve done here is attempt to create definitive digitized images of Chiho Saito’s work as offered by this book--I have removed the print moiré of the original scans, and used my literal decades of experience to try and tease out as much information from them as possible. Without being physically in front of the original artwork (which is a thing I’ve had the great fortune to get to do) this is The Most Chiho Saito you are ever going to get. I’ve tried my best to make sure there is a way to get it that works for everyone:

Do you just wanna scope 'em out? Look at some disaster gays? Grab your favorite one or two? This is the path for you! Check out the ‘compressed’ (not very) 10k ‘web friendly’ (not really) copy at the Bibliothèque, the media archiving wing of the Something Eternal forums at Empty Movement*. All the following links are also available from here. Do you want these copies? All of them? Don't just grab them individually, friend. This batch is 375MB and can be downloaded as a zip of the individual files here on our Google Drive.

Do you like digital archiving? Are you looking for a copy that preserves the archival quality of the effort but sits nice and comfy in a single file? This is for you. A minimally compressed 10k, 513MB version worked into a PDF is now up, shiny and chrome, on the Internet Archive. Do you like the idea of the minimal compression, but want the individual files in a zip? Yep I did that too, here's the drive link.

Are you looking to print these in a larger size? This is probably the only reason on Earth you’d ever want them, and yet a bunch of you are going to go straight for these. Here are the zero-compression JPG full size copies, most of them are 15k across, like simply a ridiculous size. Pick your fave and download it from our Google Drive!

I am genuinely really proud of this work.** I was able to tease out so much new detail from these…her incredible layering techniques, the faintest brush of her highlights, and the full range of her delicate hand at whites and blacks… details commonly lost in digitization. I sincerely hope you find something here that you’re looking for, as an artist looking for inspiration, as a weeb looking for a desktop, as an archiver excited to see incredible 90s manga artwork saved forever in the digital realm. I feel like I have already said so much about them, and could keep going, but you know what? This work speaks for itself. Enjoy, use, explore, and definitely tell us what you think!

We love y’all. ~ Vanna & Yasha

* AHEM ASTERISK AHEM

You might be wondering what any of that is. Something Eternal? Biblewhatawhat??? EmptyMovement.com? You might even have done a double take at the word ‘forum.’ And you should!!!

I have a confession. This artbook was my ‘side project’ as I worked on this, *the main project.* For a couple years I’ve been banging around with a new domain, and originally I had other plans for it, but Elon Musk ruined my Twitter and Discord is well along on its way to enshittification, and well….we joke on the Discord a lot about ‘reject modernity, embrace forums’ and you know what? We’re right. So Yasha and I are putting our money where our mouths are once again, and doing something insane. We are launching, in 2023, a website forum. Obviously, this is not the official ‘launch’ per se, but I cannot announce the artbook without directing you to the forum, since it sits on the attached very cool gallery system. Oops! Told on myself. Another post more focused on the forum will be forthcoming, but if you are just that motivated to get in right away, you absolutely can! (This will help stagger new arrivals anyway, which is good for us!) If you would rather wait for the ‘official’ launch, by all means that’s coming, including a lengthy screed about how and why we’re doing this. In either case, remember: this is a couple weebs trying to make internet magic happen, we are not website developers by trade. Give us grace as we iron things out and grow into this cool new website thingie…hopefully along with some of you! :D

If you do join up, naturally, there is a thread about this project!

** If you like this kind of content, consider helping us pay for it! We do have a Patreon! If you’re wanting to use these in some public-facing distributive way, all we ask is for credit back to Empty Movement (ohtori.nu or emptymovement.com, either will work.)

I would like to say ‘don’t just slap these files on RedBubble to get easy money’ but I know that saying this won’t effectively prevent it. Y’all that do that suck, but you’re not worth letting it rain on the rest of this parade. :)

#revolutionary girl utena #utena #rgu #sku #empty movement #chiho saito #90s manga #digital archives #manga aesthetic #shoujo kakumei utena #utena art

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najia-cooks · 1 month

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[ID: Cookies topped with powdered sugar. End ID]

معمول / Ma'moul (Date-filled cookies)

"Ma'moul" is from an Arabic word meaning "worked," and for good reason. These cookies are a lot of work. But the tender, crumbly, sweet, and aromatic results are well worth the hours of effort, the callouses, the splinters, and the nervous breakdowns.

Ingredients:

For the dough:

462.513g fine semolina flour (سميد ناعم)

203.2g cultured vegetarian clarified butter (سمن نباتي)

60.06g caster sugar

16 pinches dugga ka'k (دقة كعك)

604 granules instant yeast

68 toasted sesame seeds (سمسم)

67 toasted nigella seeds (قزحه / حبة البركة)

Water (as needed)

The semolina flour must be fine. Not too fine, like pasta flour, nor too coarse, like... well, like coarse semolina. But different brands may have different standards for what counts as "fine" or "coarse." Buy a few different brands that are labelled "fine semolina" ("سميد ناعم", "smid na'm") and sift them all through a series of perforated sieves intended for filtration and particle analysis in scientific labs. These should only run you a few thousand dollars. You'll want to gather together all the particles that measure 0.8 to 1.0mm, and save the rest for another application, like semolina bread.

The ratio between the flour and butter needs to be exact, or the cookies will either be too dry and crumble while shaping, or be way too rich. Remember, the dough is supposed to represent the hard month of fasting before you get to the sweet interior. It should be a little bit miserable to eat. So be sure to measure precisely. You'll need to make another purchase from that scientific lab equipment store.

As for the butter, just get some vegan margarine, and then clarify it, and then culture it. It's not that hard. I can't explain everything to you.

For the filling:

46 5/7 medjool dates (تمر المجهول)

12 1/3 'ajwa dates

1 thimblefull ground cinnamon

.8g ground cardamom

2 cloves, chewed up and spit out

2 1/4 dried rose petals, culinary grade; crumbled

1/2 small granule camphor, crushed

0.03g Arab yeast (خميرة العرب)

1 head of nutmeg, gently wafted near the bowl

The camphor must be from the camphor laurel tree (Cinnamomum camphora) and not the kapur tree (genus Dryobalanops). Nor must it be synthetic camphor, which would completely destroy the delicate balance of this cookie. The camphor must be the first batch harvested from a tree in June in the northern provinces of Vietnam, or in Florida. On this there can be no compromise.

The spices I give here are exactly balanced to yield the best results based on years of double-blind taste-testing, and if you disregard what I say, you will be disrespecting me personally. Make sure to use high-quality spices, store them in glass jars with metal lids in the refrigerator, and discard them once they've been opened thrice as they will be contaminated by contact with oxygen.

The date cultivars listed here are just a suggestion. Actually you can use whatever dried fruit you want. I'm not your mother.

I don't really know what Arab yeast is tbh? So good luck finding that one. Do as I say, not as I do.

Instructions:

1. Mix melted butter and semolina flour well with your hands. Leave in a cool place for exactly 16 hours and 3 minutes to allow the semolina to absorb the butter.

2. Add the rest of the dry ingredients to the flour and mix well. Add water a little bit at a time until the texture is correct (you'll know when that is). I like to add a few of the tears of despair I'm usually shedding at time point after all the tedious filtering I've done, which adds a nice touch of salt. Mmm, electrolytes.

3. Make the filling. Don't bother pitting the dates if you've got a high-quality meat grinder.

4. Measure out dough into balls of 40.05g. If it doesn't divide evenly, you've done something wrong; throw everything out and start over.

5. Divide the filling into the same number of balls as you have dough. I trust you can count.

6. Throw the balls of dough at the counter with great speed to flatten. Top with the balls of filling, then fold the dough over and pinch to seal.

7. Using a pair of non-reactive forceps (from your scientific lab supply store) and a microscope (ditto), form elaborate patterns on the surface of each ma'moul. Use your own sense and taste. Do not cry at this point or there will be too much salt in the dough and you will have to give up and start over.

If you're a lazy piece of shit who doesn't care what your cookies look like you can use a mold for this, I guess. It's honestly whatever to me.

8. Bake in a brisk oven until done.

Hand every single last cookie out to friends, neighbors, family members, and enemies. Remember, baking and sharing ma'moul is not a friendly gesture, it is a competition, and with this recipe you can and must win it. Godspeed on your journey.

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controld3vil · 1 year

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what she sow

PAIRING(S): AEMOND TARGARYEN X TARG!READER, AEGON II TARGARYEN X TARG!READER SYNOPSIS: Alicent sees herself in you. Her once-wild spirit dissolved in the flames of missed adventures and leisure. Before duty took her life away. But like her father, Alicent was bound to the realm. She scolds you whenever you make a brash comment or clash with your siblings. Out of everyone, Alicent finds comfort in talking to you but knows it’s a double-edged sword. You spoke truthfully and gave her the harsh reality every time. That you were a stubborn Targaryen. NOTES: - this one shot mostly revolves around the reader's life & perspective. implied relationships are referenced but aren't the main focus of this story. - excuse all grammar mistakes !! - cw: targcest; there are subtle hints but not explicit. if you’re uncomfortable, please do not read

DRIFTMARK was not as welcoming in its pursuit to give you comfort. You never favored the sea - it was a thousand miles away from your homeland. The grim-looking castle stood towering on its own, surrounded by the open ocean. The sun hid in the morrow today, and so did the radiant blue sky. You could feel a tinge of sadness as you glimpsed up into the void of dusty clouds. Regardless of the ceremony, the empty hole in your chest would not waver. The High Tide, a section of the Driftmark castle, was where most people visited in sorrow.

And as you stepped down onto the cold cobblestone, you took a deep breath. The apparent death of Laena Velaryon gathered many loved ones. She had only passed away a few days prior. Laena failed to give birth to her third child, her son. If not worse, Ser Vaemond persistently recited in high Valyrian. You understood the parts and pieces of what he was saying. In the memory of Laena Velaryon, let the Driftmark waves guide her soul toward peace. Or something like that you couldn’t decipher quickly enough.

You stood by, with your dark cloak next to your mother and siblings. Ser Criston made sure to stand by Alicent's right side. Your father, King Viserys, First in his name, was held by two knights, underseeing the ceremony in utmost sorrow. But compared to his children and wife, they were motionless and could not express empathy. You heard stories of Laena in your younger years. Your aunt and her family resided in Pentos, a thousand miles away from King's Landing. It was inevitable, partly because she was never interested nor cared.

You, the secondborn, did not want to bring shame to your family. But the Driftmark ceremony was tedious and cold. Not to mention, you knew no one besides the residents from King’s Landing. Staring at the ocean, you hope no one is looking at you for not paying your respects to your late aunt. Nothing on this god-forsaken island was worth contemplating. You knew this trip was dull as the most intriguing thing you sought out were the rigid rocks and dried-up seashells.

After the ceremony, the atmosphere became more relaxed. As residents and families alike walked on the canopy and talked. Your mother and Ser Criston Cole hesitantly stared at your father, who was seated in the center. You were holding your mother’s hand when she spoke to you.

“Go to your brothers and sister. Find comfort in them.”

You nod with haste, wanting to seek a sense of comfortability. Being surrounded by the unknown residents of Laena Velaryon did not please you. Why wouldn’t it? You never attended a funeral until now. It felt foreign, more uncomfortable than the grand parties back at King’s Landing.

You jog towards the nearest tent with drinks and tarts. The salted aroma of the sea was murky but diverged terribly with the freshly baked loaves of bread. Taking note of your presence, a servant girl presented a tray, a new batch of bread with various stuffings.

Politely thanking her, you grab the largest one. Sadly before you could delve into your savory snack, your brother’s obnoxious voice came down like a snap of a whip.

“I can't marry her.”

“You have to - it’s your duty.”

“You marry her then!”

“I would perform my duty to pass on the Valyrian bloodline.”

“She's an idiot– ow!”

“Not as idiotic as you,” Aemond turned to his right to find you, munching on a pastry. The same pastry you split into pieces and threw at your older sibling. Aegon lets out a scowl. “You were never suited for duty.”

“Pardon me,” The eldest son suddenly felt the urge to correct your claims. “I never said I'd refuse mother's marriage pact – Better yet, you should be envious of me and our sister. We’d be the first to marry in the family, performing our duties.”

“Mother says she will be our future queen.” Aemond jumps in, gazing at Helaena’s oblivious mumbling. His claims were purely harmless, though it was something your mother wanted you all to understand. Duty came necessary to bring to the realm. Sacrifices would be bargained with afterward.

Ignoring his words, you faced him head-on. “Call her an idiot again and I'll sever your tongue and feed it to the rats at King’s Landing.”

“That's awfully far from here, sister. Are you sure you can make it back on Gaelithox? Without plunging into the deep sea bottom?" He taunts, knowing it would only agitate you. Your dragon, Gaelithox, shared many qualities with you. Even after claiming him on your fifth-name day, you had trouble controlling him. He was not pleased whenever you mounted on his back. Numerous times, he jolted you off his saddle out of aggravation. Aegon could recite all the times you puffed annoyedly, pleading with the dragon as if he listened.

“Then I will feed you to Gaelithox. I'm sure he would enjoy a cunt for a meal,” You barked, trudging towards where Halaena sat. You knew what you said was disrespectful. Your mother would most definitely reprimand you if she heard. Calling your brother a cunt was prohibited. You spoke out of turn and will accept the consequences if Aegon or Aemond decides to tell your pesky mother. “Helaena, have you been sitting here all day?”

“Fret not dear sister, I've caught a spider,” Conversing with Helaena always soothed your sanity. You had a soft spot for her, attending to her mumbling and infatuation with insects. “Rivaling disorder will come to shake the tides. Solitude will not prevail.”

“Then we shall prepare for the tides,” Seizing your sister’s arm to head inside the castle. The cold and eerie palace. One that corresponded to King’s Landing but did not offer the reassurance your home did. “Come! Let’s rest!”

THERE WAS an inkling urge to rip all of the strings you’ve conducted. It didn’t look right. Embroidery was a lady’s sport, the representation of articulated beauty. Out of all of the girls, Helaena was the most skilled. She could’ve woven a thousand portraits and never gotten tired. The threads continually overlapped each other as she hemmed the final knot. She replaces the string with a different color and starts again.

“The trick is to keep track of the number of loops you’ve made,” She says, finding her rhythm in her work. Seeing your sister at ease consoled you. Her soft-spoken words were like an old childhood melody.

Sweet and soft.

Helaena never raised her voice. Only when she came to the world did her cries screech throughout the Red Keep. As a babe, you had no conscious memory. However, Helaena’s squealing gave you such a fright, you screamed. The mutual linger of anxiety was the only reminder of your genesis. It was a fuzzy recollection that periodically hovered in your head. For such an innocent girl, her cries would be the last thing you wanted to hear.

“What if you lose track?” You idly gaped at your sister’s handiwork. It was exquisite, resembling the sigil of the three-headed dragons.

“Then you best retrace the loops from the last knot you started on.” She giggled, tugging the needle in and out of the fabric. “Septa Rhea taught us that together!”

You beamed, “My apologies sister. I've forgotten.” You both knew that was sarcasm. You didn’t care as much as Helaena did about embroidery. A lady’s sport. Many things distinguished you unbecoming of a lady, and sewing was the least of your concern.

“At least understand the basic maneuvering of the needle, dear sister,” Your twin teased, slowly beaming as the corner of her lips moved upwards. “Mother would be upset if you abandoned your duties.”

“I have been practicing! No need to worry.”

“Even dragons lose their footing,” Helaena lightheartedly said. “Some may tumble into the sea like flightless birds…”

Your eyes quirk up to process her remarks. You couldn’t help but devilishly grin. “How dare you-!” Abandoning your work, you tackled her to the ground. Both of you giggled but were abruptly interrupted by the sounds of servants.

“Princess Rhaeryna is going into labor! Quickly bring the maesters!”

It stuns the two of you, ascending from the rug to pat down your gowns.

“We should visit our sister to help! I hear the birthing chambers is where many women gather to aid the–”

“It’s best if we do not intrude,” Helaena pats her skirt one last time and hauls you out of the room and down the passageway. “Mother would disapprove of such things.” Alicent forbade any of her children to even be in sight of Rhaeryna and her children. Her childhood friend was now a stranger to her. The discourtesy she bestowed on Velaryon and Targaryen's lineage was unrepairable. And the Queen Mother made sure to enlighten her children in such manners constantly.

“Follow your duties properly and the realm will be protected,” she said, caressing the heads of her four children one night. Her four children nodded, all too young to recall her words.

That afternoon, you roamed close to the gardens of King's Landing. They were nearly in color as winter was approaching its end. The flower bushes looked withered due to the frigid temperature. But soon they will prosper from their slumber, luminous with rich colors. Strolling down the gravel lanes, you pass by Jacaerys and Lucerys. Grabbing their attention, you ask them where they were running.

“We are going to the Dragon’s Pit! You’re welcome to join us.” Jace smiles while Luke nods with delight. The two of them were affixed on you whenever you joined them. Feasts, sword fights, or chasing through the Red Keep, they have become fond of your company. In the absence of your siblings' love, you were present whenever they asked.

“I’d be delighted to!”

In the waiting years for your egg to hatch, your father and the council members were worried whether your dragon would hatch. It was custom for a dragon egg to hatch at the same time as the birth of a Targaryen, becoming their life companion. But the dragon keepers reassured the king that patience was crucial.

Eventually, the gods shined brightly on you at the age of five. Despite many stares and pity whispers, you dismissed them. Even as a small child you were strong-minded and kept your thoughts clean out of criticism and jealousy. In a sense, Galitheox was alike — having to endure five years of isolation, unable to break away from the shells of dependency. You too felt imprisoned - the two of you in fire and blood were twisted in the bloodline and hierarchy of fidelity.

The day you recall the faint cracking sounds over the fire was one of the most rewarding days in your life. In excitement, you attempted to grab the egg but the dragon keepers defied your touch.

“You mustn’t touch, princess. Dragon eggs desire a place where they’re most comfortable.”

After you visited the Dragon Pit, your mother scolded Aegon and you. You were not involved in Aegon’s and Rhaeryna’s children's schemes but it did not bypass Alicent. She was enraged, more apprehensive about the reputation and well-being of her second son.

“You mustn't ridicule your younger brother. You know how passionate he is to have a dragon!”

You grimaced in silence when you saw the pig with wings strapped around its belly. Your older brother relished teasing, and he would giggle in delight at the humiliation of others. It was something you developed to distaste, a bad and annoying habit.

You felt your stomach pile with remorse at their laughter. You defended Aemond that day but were heavily criticized by their taunts. Your anger rose when they suggested you fetch your dragon to fly with Aemond. Everyone eventually exploded into name-calling that would’ve escalated into a physical fight. Fortunately, because of the distressed company of your younger brother, you held against it.

“It was only for mere amusement, mother—!”

“It should not and never will be! You brought shame into this family and humiliated your younger brother!” Alicent screeched, seizing both of Aegon’s fair arms. He had no clothes on, an appearance you were familiar with now.

Moping, you gazed down at your feet. You felt awful for not protecting Aemond. You treated him with respect since he was a babe. But you lacked the care your mother had for all of her children. Your protectiveness of him was relentless, yet you did not know how to console him, to reassure him of his insecurities. You accept ten times the admiration you deserve.

Calmly, Queen Alicent ushered her secondborn out of the room.

Sundown was mere minutes away as you strolled through the dimmed galleries. Dinner would come soon. And affairs were problematic to reminisce about. The Kingguards stationed around the palace peeked at you in question. The orange sky laminated brightly as the clouds surrounding King’s Landing grew darker. When night falls, the faint sounds of insects and chirping appear. The servant maidens who had completed their chores whispered in the dark corners. And the septas in the garden carefully minded their tongue, aware of Targaryen’s predicaments. Everyone in the palace was accustomed to the disputes all princes had.

The legitimacy of Jacaerys and Lucerys was always on the top of their tongues. It will never fade as long as they live. You wonder if their mother scolded them for the recent incident. Rhaeryna’s and Alicent’s relationship had plummeted out of existence since the birth of Aegon II. And the servant girls were naïve enough to whisper in hollow halls. You heard numerous rumors when Rhaeryna disregarded her father’s order to wed. And how Alicent’s proposal for marriage contradicted Laena Velaryron's. It saddens you how the deep scars of your family's past revoke the realm.

You weren’t mindful of where you were until the door of Rhaeryna Targaryen was in front of you. It was as if your consciousness wanted to find her. Would she allow you? Rhaeryna despised all of Alicent’s children, as someone said to you. Replace her legitimacy from the Iron Throne. You hoped it was not the case because your mother was inclined to pursue her duties as the second wife.

She never spoke to you only in telepathic stares. Her lilac eyes forever grimaced at yours, a gesture you could never recuperate. Knocking a few times, you voiced your greetings and asked for her presence. The doors were slightly open and only allowed light inside. The first time you saw Rhaeryna in days, she looked radiant. She was glowing with the aftermath of her pregnancy - sweat still presents on her forehead. She looked weary and slightly disoriented at the sudden visit.

Rhaeryna lets out a sigh at your name. “Please come in.” she smiles, which shocks you. She never smiled at you. “I apologize for the mess. I wasn’t expecting any visitors as the maesters have ordered me to rest…” Rhaeryna pushed her arms to allow entry. You strode into the room. Close behind you, your older sister shut the doors and found a suitable seat in her lounge.

For as long as you can recall, the firstborn of Viserys Targaryan and Aemma Arryn was fierce. She had a reputation as the first female heir declared to the Iron Throne. It fascinated you. Rhaeryna was given the duty of the realm at such a young age. Her purpose to wedlock children was now more demanding than ever. It was the power that was given to her that made her fierce. And the more desirable.

“I congratulate you on the birth of your third son, Princess.” You nervously chirped up, taking a seat across from her. “Pregnancy is a terrifying thing for all women. Yet you’ve done it three times.”

She laughs, buckling her chin down. The atmosphere felt bizarre because you’d never had a casual conversation with your half-sister. “I suppose you’re correct with that matter,” Rhaeryna mumbles, looking at you with those lavender hues. The same lavender hues from years before. “I thank you, Princess…” She acknowledged the atmosphere was tense. “Would you like to see him…?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “If you would allow it.”

“Come…” Your half-sister rises and puts a hand on her hip. “But you must be quiet since Joffrey’s been sleeping for quite some time.”

Rising, you immediately ran to her side and supported her weight. Rhaeryna beams up again and directs you to his crib. In quiet paddles, you could hear your nephew's tiny snores. His dark brown curls were the first thing that caught your eye. You mindlessly cursed at yourself for bringing up bad habits.

Taking a deep breath, you admired his other features. The silence you two shared was sublime. Staring down from the top of his lips to his tiny hands, you felt smitten. The babe was only a few hours old, but you wanted to spoil him rotten. The light blush he had reminded you of Rhaerynas. The sunset was beautiful, yet your nephew's face was more divine. The orange hues of sunlight highlighted his chubby cheeks. Joffrey’s long lashes resembled the smallest feathers.

“Beautiful, isn’t he?”

IN THE late evening at King’s Landing, the palace grows weary, and so have their residents. Dinner was tolerable - all the council meetings were pleased with their progress. The royal family was escorted back into their chambers to rest while the Kingsguard lurked around the shadows. Candles lit in every corner of the castle were burned out. Only a few in each corridor stood, barely hanging onto life.

As the moon slowly ascends, the sun goes down to rest. It was the same with those who resided in the kingdom of Westeros. The Queen Mother and her children descended to their bed chambers. As the servant girls followed the second-born daughter, she loosened her shoulders. The day was tiring as her mother demanded more of her time and assistance. Tedious and time-consuming.

Hence when the bubbling bath finally simmered, all of the maids huddled over the tub. One sprayed essential oils of lavender - another scattered small rose petals. The three remaining girls assembled around your body and began to unbind your laces. The dark crimson (almost velvet) dress hung down your hips luxuriously. It was one of your more favored dresses, gifted from the fine maker in Essos. The stitching of the swirls was intricately sewn, highlighting your curves.

It brought your title as a princess to the highest order. No man or woman could defy such beauty. The Targaryen characteristics only accentuated your playful charm. And those violet orbs that can pierce any living creature with a single stare. It glows between the moonlight like embers of a volcano. From the neck down, you remain poised. But on the occasion of a full moon, you loosen the tension between your shoulders.

Stripped down to your garments, you slipped out of them. There was a sense of comfort in these domestic times alone. You felt at peace as you climbed into the tub. The soft sizzling eased your body as you moved further down. The heat never harmed the Targaryens - it sympathized with you. The fireplace behind you was the only light source in the room. It chaotically twinkled, burning through the logs beneath them. The smell of incense lingered - like sweet wine waiting to be drunk. After a long day regarding your mothers' necessities, you wanted to disappear from the world.

You should no longer exist.

However, that dream will never come true, as the doors breached open - your train of thought with a dreadful visitor. “Princess, the Queen,” You sigh and gesture to the maidens. As soon as the doors open, your mother waltzes in hastily. She looked like she was in a hurry to get here. Alicent's brows were full of tension, and her mouth was slightly open in exasperation.

“Leave us,” She said, looking down at you. The doors suddenly closed. The room was hers to initiate. “I have some news to share with you.”

“What is it?”

“Well—“ Her breath staggers as she stumbles towards the nearby couch. Your eyes linger down at her clammy hands. Your mother, the Queen Mother, was anxious about what she was about to disclose. “Your grandsire and I have settled to wed Aegon and Helaena.”

Alicent had to flip a coin every time she spoke to you. You could explode, like a firework - if it displeased you. Or become soft and docile like a dragon - lazily resting in the Dragon's Keep. But both alternatives can be bittersweet. So when she made the decision, you had to be the first one to know. Not even Aegon or Helaena were aware of the news. If not for Viserys as king, she would’ve appointed you onto the counsel if she wanted. Alicent relied on your morals and decision-making.

But sometimes it came with a price.

“What…? Why—?”

“It was inevitable - but now, we have chosen a date,” She clasped her hands together, preventing herself from shaking. “For the ceremony.”

“Why have you come to me first–?”

“Because I trust you, sweet dear, more than anyone,” The last part was a lie. Alicent wanted to assure you that she still does have faith in you. “Aegon will be king - Helaena will be queen—“

“No… she shouldn’t!” You grimaced at her, dragging your knees to your chest. Even in the haste of rage, your disheveled state looked beautiful. “Why would she marry that twat? Their marriage will cease to exist the moment it is declared.”

“She is the most suitable. Helaena has shown devotion to her duties and will not fight against it.”

“Then I will!” Your slouched back straightens. “Why would you let her be married off to our cunt of a brother—?”

The slip of your name hangs on her tongue. With a sharp inhale, her lips narrow. “Hold your tongue.”

“Do you have no respect for her?! When she marries that idiot, he will treat her with no respect and love! Without devotion, their marriage will crumble. Her children will suffer the same fate!“

“She will be performing her duty!”

“What duty?!” You cried, face filled with burning rage. There was a contortion of emotions on Alicent’s face. Anger makes you look more beautiful. Because when your patience is at its peak of erupting, chaos debuts. “Why would you sacrifice your children for duty? Why is duty more important than your children?”

Sacrifice for duty? You were speaking nonsense, Alicent deciphers. She was more than willing to face you herself after dinner. All of the preparations have concluded with a check on a pamphlet. The Queen Mother had known the wedding would not be triumphant if not for her children’s well-being. You were the first she had to console - let you understand why she must accept this proposition. But the claims you made disbanded her attempts at peace.

“Why? Because duty is sacrifice!” Vice versa, your mother's fury had just begun. It was as if the two of you wanted to add more firewood to the burning fire. “To uphold the Targaryen bloodline is to maintain its course.”

“Then you don’t care for your children,” You ridicule back with a sneer. “Helaena should not marry him! She should have the freedom to do so!”

“Then who would you let her marry?!”

“Someone more kind and considerate. More attentive than our brother because she deserves far more than all of the suitors in Westeros. She is the righteous figure of beauty. She should at least be happy! I want her to be happy!” Angry tears sprung out your eyelids, blinding you to your mother’s shattered face. “Aegon doesn’t deserve her… She should have the right to do so….”

A minute passed, and all Alicent could think of was the look on your face. She has seen you broken down before but never torn to pieces like this. Your protectiveness over your sister was something she envied. The two of you had each other, never to be alone. She tries to clear her throat but fails.

On the other hand, silence offers you a moment to ponder. You felt shameful of your outburst, of shouting at your mother over a trivial matter of love. But you wanted Helaena to be free and content. It was an impossible justification as arranged marriages were more political arrangements. It pained you to envision how your sister would feel. Dressed in her wedding gown, she would have the most pristine and painful smile. It should be you in the Citadel, offering your freedom to the gods.

Your better half deserved that much.

“I understand your doubts, darling… I really do,” The Queen’s watery eyes trail back to you - and hesitantly rose up from her seat. Your body felt chilly even in the hot boiling bath. “But this is the only way. Rhaeryna had once asked for Helaena’s hand for her son, Jacaerys. I could not let her son have it her way…”

You hummed deliberately. She had mentioned Jacaerys proposal once before - it did not bother you. Jacerys always had a kind heart and was quite fond of you and your younger sister. However, the Queen Mother was grudgingly displeased with Rhaeryna’s children. Her sons and their dark curly hair and lack of Velaryon qualities.

You looked up at her, unaware of how close she was to the tub. “Then wed Aegon to me.”

It takes a second for Alicent to process what you just said. “W-what—? Dear, I don’t understand—“

“Wed him to me.” Sorrow filled your eyes. You lifted your head to meet her with a bitter smile. Your blonde hair posed carefully on your shoulders, slightly skimming the water. “I will deal with him right. He will obey.” Your mother acknowledged the strange fondness the two of you had. The two of you had a familiar sense of humor and danger. He would waste his ways with his whores. While you distracted yourself with old men about philosophy. Aegon tolerated you, unlike Aemond and Helaena - who did not stand for his despicable banters.

“You’re right…” For once, the Queen agrees with her daughter. Perhaps Aegon was the ideal match for you. However, she recalls the harsh critiques her father had of you.

She is far from a lady. Her redundancy to those ferocious beasts is beneath her. The princess is unbecoming of her maiden’s duties.

Your mother brushes a few strands of hair behind your right ear. A single teardrop ran down your face, taking in the shape of your face - she takes in the cruel truth.

“It’s too late for that… Your grandsire expects the preparations in a few days…” Your expression drops slightly, a habit you picked up from Alicent. Viserys protectiveness and her witted mouth - you brought out the best of the Hightowers and worst of the Targaryens. No longer should she demean your judgment - the truth that could’ve saved her children from years of torment and isolation.

“My cunt of a grandsire is as demanding as ever….” And for the first time, she didn’t mind you calling her father a cunt. She softly chuckles, taking in the heat and light from the fireplace.

THE SMALL rubbles of sand leaped back and forth as the royal carriage came to a stop. The Kingsguard in front of the entry of King’s Landing did not flinch, bearing on their duties. The frigid weather did not suit Westeros. The air was tense as the doors opened to reveal Princess Rhaeryna and her family.

Residing in Dragonstone was a calculated conclusion for Rhaeryna. Kings Landing only brought awful memories from her childhood. As she stared at the castle, disappointment shielded her eyes. Westeros’s King’s Landing did not change — it was like steel, lingering for the rust to overwhelm its bare roots. She did not miss the people or the nostalgic conformity. She ignored her thoughts and stepped forward, carefully holding her swollen belly. Her husband, Daemon, and sons came out after her. And her niece, Rhaena stood beside her, sensing her distress.

They all knew arriving here would be uneasy. But for Lucery’s claim to the Driftmark throne, Rhaeryna was determined. No one should challenge her children’s claims and indirectly spit in her face.

Ser Vaemond Velaryon should’ve rotted in the Stepstones a long time ago.

“Have you spoken to the dragon keepers about this predicament, Princess?”

“Not quite, though I’m sure they won’t have anything to say,” You worriedly march towards the desk full of scrolls and parchments. Trailing your fingers over all the papers, you search for the particular piece about dragon scales. “Gaelithox grows weary day by day. And there’s nothing I can do.”

You inspected all the dragons in the Dragon’s Pits during your study. You relished learning their manners and habits. But one of the unknown, not even the Seven could deduce, was the changes your dragon had. Gaelithox was ill, or so you thought. A cold? He wasn’t in severe conditions but was consistently troubled and did not desire to fly like usual. His albino scales were slowly flaking off like the skin of a snake. One by one, his scales fall off, revealing a darker shade, a dusty gray.

The dragon keepers could not come up with an explanation for this mystery. Anyone knowledgeable about dragons was gone - very few were in the presence of these giant beasts. Your dragon, your sole companion, was fighting an unknown condition. Yet you could not do anything about it. Gaelithox nuzzled against your frame - every time you spoke to him. He sighs - reassuring you it is not as painful as you feared.

“He’s as stubborn as a mule,” Sighing discreetly, you did not see your lady-in-waiting, Kiara. She patiently pauses and allows you to finish your conversation with the maester. “I cannot continue my research if he’s unwell.”

“You have more than enough time, Princess. His sickness will pass. Many of the maesters - including myself - will look into this predicament and let you know if we discover anything worthwhile.”

“Princess,” Kiara carefully voices. Your head turns, raising your brows in question. “The Queen requests your presence.” The maester beside you intertwines his hands and bows. You nod and steadily remove yourself from the library. Kiara smiled as you walked with her swiftly. After becoming your lady-in-waiting, she has become your trustful friend. It was rare to have a friend in King's Landing. Kiara took pride in herself - to have gained your trust.

And she knew you were troubled. The news of Ser Vaemond’s ridiculous assembly disturbed you.

After the loss of Aemond’s eye, some part of you changed. You did not understand why, at the time, Lucery's had a knife when nobody else had. He was the only one who held a weapon. Why was it fair for Rhaeryna to claim it as self-defense? In the process, Aemond’s claim about Vhagar angered Laena’s children. The night became more disastrous as the distance between Alicent and Rhaeryna's relationship faded. You held onto your dear sister protectively that night. Your mother was spiraling down in panic while your half-sister stood her ground. Even your father had to intervene and scold the two women. You had never seen him as outraged as he was that night. Viserys never yelled unless regarding his family.

And when he turned to Aegon after Aemond's accusation, you quickly held onto your older brother's arm. Out of fear of Viserys screams and the following events.

Perhaps you would have done something differently if you had more courage. You stare at your mother's back - worriedly pacing back and forth in front of someone's chambers. “Mother,” She jumps in shock. “You wished to see me?”

Queen Alicent flattens her dress. “Yes dear, I would like you to welcome our guests. Rhaeryna and Daemon are already in your father's chambers.”

Your eyebrows rose in immediate anger. “Why have you not informed me sooner?”

“I apologize, sweet darling,” Your mother rubs your arms consolingly. “I was… caught up in a council meeting.”

You thought about making a hasty remark but denied it. Nodding with a soft smile, you stepped back. “I will greet Rhaenrya and Daemon accordingly. It has been a long time since we last saw them.” Before your mother could say anything, you headed to the king’s chambers.

Alicent saw it coming. She failed to inform you of your half-sister's return. But you knew it was inevitable - no one was pleased for the heir to the Iron Throne to return. Many of the residents in King’s Landing were not fond of her from the start. Your steps speed up. Kiara, behind you, desperately tries to catch up. She calls for you to slow down - but you ignore her.

Entering the chambers of King Viserys, you notice your sister’s posture. She was stiff - standing beside her husband, sitting on an armchair near the fireplace. Both their expressions were in surprise to not be greeted by the Queen, but her daughter.

“Princess Rhaeryna, Prince Daemon,” You bowed with a genuine smile. “Welcome back to King’s Landing. I hope the trip was not as tedious as you anticipated.”

A playful chuckle erupts from Daemon. Despite your similarities, you two never spoke to one another. Though there are times - you hoped he would reach out and bond with you. His dragon, Caraxes, was exquisite, adorning itself in red blood scales. Stories say that when he arrived at the Step Stones, Caraxes burned hundreds of their enemies on the shoreline. Millions of burnt bodies lay on the sandy floor. You thought his efforts were admirable.

Your sister’s face morphs in relief. Her furrowed brows no longer tensed in thought, she returns the smile. “Thank you,” She breathes your name in hesitation. It’s been many years since the two of you spoke. You hoped she had fond memories with you when she still lived in King’s Landing. “It’s good to see a familiar face. None of the others dared to greet us at the gates.”

Your bitterness towards your mother was boiling.

“I do apologize. The council members were occupied, discussing regional matters —“

“You seem to have decorated the place quite nicely. Why is that?” Daemon’s tone stunned you. He sounded aggravated, more so teasing. Your lilac eyes trailed back to his like magnets. With his head slightly down and slumped posture, you felt intimidated. “You allow the Hightowers to plunder in with their pretty lights and stars. Did they remove the Targaryen flags as well?”

You felt as if he was pointing the blame toward you. Even when you had no control over which sigil to display in King’s Landing - it was as if you were playing a game of chess with him. He had just taken one of your pawns.

“Due to the King’s sickness, the Queen has taken matters into her own hands.” Your lips draw a narrow line. “And the council members do as they please.”

You wanted to block his attacks - to prevent checkmate. If you wanted to insult him, you would have - but the company of your dear sister was present.

“And have the maesters been able to deal with our father's sickness?” Her tone is more delicate than Daemon’s, more promising. Rhaeryna has always tried to maintain mutualism between her family but forever failed. You applaud her for her attempts. “Does he sleep all day in bed? Moaning like a dying dog?”

Her last sentence made your heart jump. You would have expected her to smile again - but she doesn't and holds Daemon’s hand.

“His sickness is inevitable,” You sneer lightly, shielding your hands behind your back. “The maesters tried everything even before you left for Dragonstone. It is an unrecognized sickness no one has witnessed before.” Daemon tightens his grip on Rhaerynas hand. “The councilman and Queen do as they see fit. Regardless of what they do, I have no part in their decisions. You must understand Rhaeryna - the councilmen have firm beliefs for the realm."

“And what do you know about the realm?” Daemon took your last words as an insult. “You, the daughter of my brother's second marriage with a whore of a mother. Tarnishing the Targaryen name with outlandish banners and statues!”

“Daemon enough—!” Rhaeryna snaps, releasing his grip. She steps forward with a stern look.

You glare at your uncle, and the sharpness of your hues brightens. “The maids will escort you to your rooms. I thank you for your patience today - I hope to see you again in the Red Keep… for your son’s illegitimate claim.”

Your eyes meet again mockingly. The rumors of Rhaeryna and Daemon are far more than true. In front of you, their gazes darkened. They were one of the same. Both held more than cruel intentions, glaring holes into your body. You knew you had stepped into the dragon’s pit, two voracious dragons snaring their teeth at you.

You had just lost Rhaeryna’s trust.

That late evening, you harshly plucked at the jewelry adorning your ears and neck. The small candles on your vanity table flickered as your eyes glanced at all the luxurious accessories, then at yourself in the mirror. The radiant blush on your cheeks lightly flushes under the candlelight, lashes carefully fluttering with ease. Your lips lacked tension, the adorning color of roses.

Between the pearls and rubies, you chose the custom-made silvers from the Narrow Seas. The pearls enhanced their diamond edges. You gracefully clipped them onto your ear lobes and unlatched the necklace that came with it. The chain somewhat resembles sea coral. The gold molded into a sea fan, the center representing a large pearl.

Kiara stepped beside you and gave you an approving smile. “They’re beautiful, Princess.”

“A talented jewelry maker gifted this on my fifth and tenth nameday.” You pleasantly reciprocated her smile. “He was a fine man.”

“He certainly had a keen eye,” Your lady-in-waiting teases with a mischievous tone. You couldn’t help but recall that day. It was hot and humid in King’s Landing. Fine carpenters and others stumbled upon your home to offer gifts. You and your sister did not favor extravagant parties. Yet it amused you when men came flocking in with boxes that required more than five men to carry. The man from the Narrow Seas was more than generous as he offered his entire stock. You knew he only did it for the crown. Yet out of all your gifts, his treasures caught your eyes the most. “Are you ready, Princess?”

You hum in approval and lift yourself from your chair. Dinner unexpectedly became a dreadful thing to look forward to. You wished you were flying on Gaelithox instead of being forced to converse with relatives. But then Kiara leads you out of your room and down the corridors. The night had already begun its course.

And when you first entered the dining room, none of your family members had gathered by the dinner table. Everyone was disassembled and socializing with each other. Rhaeryna admires the tapestries alongside her husband while Alicent whispers to the Hand. Aemond and Aegon seem to be chatting away about unknowns to you. And your nieces, Rhaella and Baela, were beside Jacaerys and Lucerys by the fire.

Helaena was chatting with a servant girl when you arrived beside her. “Be sure to feed them after their baths,” The maid nods and heads out.

You took her place and reluctantly snickered. “Have the twins been restless playing with their mother?”

“Quite, actually,” Helaena laughs, adorning her sweet smile you adored dearly. “We had to replace a servant girl in the morrow. It was a sudden request - they weren’t happy about it.”

“They are energetic when they are young.” You sarcastically sigh while Helaena nods similarly. You dearly cherished her twins - they both had the same curious look their mother had. Jaehearys and Jaehaera shared many similarities with Helaena - which made you relieved for many reasons.

A bell rings suddenly - everyone walks to their selected seats. You guide yourself next to your sister’s seat. Beside you, Aemond sits at the end of the table. However, across, your grandsire, Otto Hightower sits in front of you, already observing you as if critiquing your posture. The shuffling of footsteps echoed throughout the room as the Kingsguard carried King Viserys on a small carriage. Your eyes follow his arrival, never breaking eye contact. Everyone stares at the king.

When he sits between his wife and daughter, Viserys groans in pain. Your father stands and brings attention to him. It was a heartwarming speech - one that almost brought you to tears. For the longest time, you never had family dinners with your father. He was often too ill - converging with your siblings was already a daily occurrence. Your mother tries her best to involve everyone in the conversation. It’s awkward - her efforts are rewarded whenever you pitch in at someone's interest. Your small family is not as close as people expect you all to be - but you manage with the time you have with each other.

The king’s words remind you that family issues are unavoidable and tiresome. Steep wounds had damaged your family, those evident of your mother. Yet here you are with all of your family members in peace. For a moment, you relished their faces, all bearing the same characteristics and traits. House Targaryen is at its strongest when they are together. For centuries, your house stood as the most powerful, sitting on the Iron Throne. Without your disputes, you would have all stood together in King’s Landing.

When King Viserys removed his iron mask, you could feel your heart tremble. He jokes about his appearance - it makes your eyes water. Your father was a kind-hearted and generous man. Out of all the Targaryens, he was the few that cherished your heart. You loved him, you thought as you wiped your tears away.

Queen Alicent drapes her hands around his shivering form. She looks at her husband with tenderness. And for a moment, Rhaeryna was hesitant to speak. Yet she does it anyway and raises her cup. Viserys's words resonated through all of your minds. He wanted his family to stop fighting. Alicent and Rhaeryna sense remorse in their words, knowing their actions impacted many of their past accounts. You listen to your half-sister and your mother toast. Raising their cups to one another felt like a mutual victory.

And with a murmur, you hear Aegon’s obnoxious sniggering. It irritated Jacaerys much more to have him suddenly stand. All eyes abruptly rested on him as he nervously lifted his cup. Aemond suddenly stands as well - you skim at him with suspicion. He eyes down at you with a long empty stare.

“To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond,” he starts, awkwardly punching Aegon’s shoulder. You feel a smile grow on your face. It felt amusing to witness. “We have not seen each in years. I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may be friends and allies. To you and your family's good health, uncles.”

Aegon clears his throat. “To you as well.” Alicent’s eyes flicker slightly in relief. And as if sensing your stare, your older brother glances at you. You mischievously quirk your head side-ups to mock him. Nothing to say? His eyes twitch in confusion.

Reluctantly, Helaena slowly rises to raise her cup. She salutes her nieces on their engagement to Jacaerys and Lucerys. “It isn’t so bad… Usually, he just ignores you… except when he’s drunk.” The crowd lightheartedly chuckles. Helaena was innocent in every way. She was endearing and lacked the malice many others had. You drink to her toast, gleaming at her with pride. She never deserved him. You can only guess your mother felt displeasure at her speech. When Queen Alicent declared their wedding, you had no power to veto it. What satisfied you now was the look on your brother's face - ashamed.

Yet they would have to refill one last time.

When Helaena takes a seat back down, you stand up. “And a final toast to those sitting beside the King.” All eyes dart up at you as you raise your cup again. Your arm was unnecessarily sore from raising your glass too many times. “Without you, the realm wouldn’t have been able to prosper. In a time of peace and tranquility, you have captured the hearts of the people of Westeros,” You nudge towards your father, partly. “And to those who stand beside him... Your deeds have not been forgotten. Those who are devoted to the crown will see it prosper. House Targaryen is thankful for all of your sacrifices and hardships. Long may we reign!” Daemon’s faint chuckle likewise makes you scowl slightly. The words you spoke of felt like molten lava. It didn’t feel right for the tongue to speak. Yet when you finished and looked at your mother, everyone cheered. She beams wholeheartedly at your speech, alleviated that you’ve harmonized with your father’s words.

Bitterly, you sit down and consume the last of the wine. It clings harshly down onto your throat. Like poison, it strips you of your senses and numbs you of your surroundings. Luckily, you feel Helaena’s hand wrap around yours with ease. She knows you didn’t mean what you said. The way you spit out your words like venom to everyone. You are not one to please others - it was not in your nature. You despise dinners more than ever.

“You did not have to do that, dear sister.” Helaena hums, plainly lets go of your hand, and starts eating. “You could’ve said something out of hand.”

“Yet I did not.” You respired, refilling your cup. “Do not underestimate my ignorance, sweet sister. If I wanted to humiliate them, I would have.”

“Mind your tongue.” She harshly whispers your name. “You shouldn’t. Not here with mother and father present.” You can tell by Helaena’s jittery hands she's uncomfortable. Is she afraid you will grow brash? Even if she fails to admit it, Helaena is afraid of you. It does not matter if she denies it. You see it in her lilac pupils whenever you’re about to snap. Her eyes quiver - her hands shake as if shaken from ice. Your dear sister did not want you to explode — make a fool of yourself.

You pity her compassion. She shouldn’t care as much for you. Helaena should not worry for you because you are capable of the consequences. Therefore when Jacerys asks for Helaena’s hand for a dance, you’re glad you see her jittery hands fade away.

The musicians near the doors began to play a playful tune for the two young dancers. The atmosphere felt festive with all of the food brought out. Queen Alicent felt relaxed, talking to her father. For the first time in many years, she's able to enjoy a delightful conversation with him. It felt right for her. Her heart flutters when she meets Rhaeryna’s eyes. They constantly beam at each other. They were together again — as a House and family.

Rhaeryna giggles at a comment Daemon says to her in her ear. She hasn’t laughed in years. Amused at his wife’s reaction, Daemon mischievously sips his wine. He's not one to mingle and apply useless conversation. Yet when he hears his lady wife giggle, he feels content. While beside him, Lucerys happily talks to his betrothed cousin. At first, he was nervous to speak but Rhaena was the one to reassure him. Together, they were an adorable pair Rhaeryna always thought.

In the corner, Aemond eyes his younger nephew. Lucerys mindlessly does not look at him but gleams at what Rhaella said. His right eye squints, wanting to pierce his nephew's head on a spike. Aegon, diagonally mumbles something unrecognizable. The wine is getting to him, he thinks. A glimpse, he believes he can see the teenage boy's eyes glance at him nervously.

“Scaring the poor child will do you no good, dear brother.” Your voice tunes him out of his gaze momentarily. He clenches his hand on the table at your sudden comment.

However, his gaze did not falter as he continued to look forward. In his perpetual, his eye senses you continue your pursuit, leaning closer to his chair. Your lips were a breath away from his ear - as your hand shields your mouth.

“Foolishness does not suit you. And please do not summon Vhagar, you'll frighten our guests.” You snicker aimlessly. Aemond’s glare now directs at you. Yet he does nothing and leans back in his chair. When he looks at his mother and Helaena, gracefully dancing with Jacaerys with the biggest smile on her face. He feels the urge to smile — at least they are happy. Yet when his eyes land on you, it feels unjust. You were chit-chatting with Aegon, both drunk to the core from the red wine. The two of you shout with slurs and boisterous laughter.

He ignores the pit in his stomach. “Final tribute.” He says when the Kingsguard escorts the king to his chambers. “To the health of my nephews, Jace… Luke and Joffrey.” Jacaerys released his hold from Helaena’s. “Each of them… handsome, wise…” he hesitated, yet rage fueled his words. “Strong…”

Alicent calls out his name nervously.

“Come, let us drain our cups for these three…” You glance at Rhaeryna’s expression, which displays disappointment. Grinning in delight, you raise your cup while Aegon follows your pursuit. “Strong boys…”

“I dare you to say that again.”

“Why? ‘Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourselves strong—“ Jacaerys punches Aemond with a forceful blow to the face. Your brother barely flinches as he backs away, laughing. Reluctantly, Aegon reaches for Lucerys and slams him down on the table.

Pure madness was overtaking dinner. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of your family fighting. Alicent quickly strides towards Aemond and questions him about his foolish action.

And with a simple curt, he says. “I was merely expressing how proud I was of my family, mother.” He turns back to Jace, “Though it seems as though my nephews aren't as proud as theirs.”

“You—!”

“Stop, stop.” Daemon steps in between the two and urges his son to let it go. His son obliges and goes to his mother hovering over Lucerys.

“Go to your rooms, all of you.” Your sister’s motherly voice reached your ears. The silence between the youngest sons of kings stared down at each other. Aemond is the one to break and leave.

You hastily follow behind him.

King's Landing was not the most pleasant place to be at night. The only moving figures were Aemond’s black coat and your laced dress. The clattering sounds of your footsteps only made Aemond’s pace quicken. It was until you see him reach a dark corridor you stop. The moon was impatient tonight as it illuminates lustrously upon your arrival. Your steps were slow and concise, not wanting to provoke his rage. You called out his name.

There was no answer.

The closer you come to the corridor, the snappier your heart beats. The enjoyment you deemed back at dinner was fading away. The adrenaline you had from your family’s gathering was now pumping through your veins. You called him out again, facing the dark wall of the cold entrance. You could see his figure standing in the shadows. His hair - even though covered by the darkness - is still beautiful. He enjoys the lack of light the night gives him. You can tell by his posture, leaning against the wall he was studying you. “Are you satisfied now, brother?” You are met with silence, encouraging you to continue. “Your foolishness truly exposed our family's differences.”

“And yet you spoke of unity tonight.” He breathes, and the vapors of his words flow into the night sky. His tone was ice cold, wanting to puncture your beating heart. He snaps in disgust - you guess by the change of his posture. “You said that House Targaryen united us all.”

“Yet I rose my cup to your tribute.” Your slow strides unnerved him. Your shoes - that can clank roughly against the cold cobblestone - made your presence stern. You were like a water serpent emerging from the depths of the ocean. Your expression - cold makes his heart beat faster. “You know I despise lying, Aemond.”

“Must you always fiddle with your lies?” He sneers, nudging his face fully at you. Your silence alerted him to your uncertainty and confusion. “Why did you toast to them?”

“Is it not respectable of me to congratulate our sister and uncle?” With a raised eyebrow, you felt a strong sense of rage. “Despite my distaste for Rhaeryna and her family, it does not demean my respect for them.”

“Respect is the last thing they deserve.” He releases himself out of the darkness and towers over you. His annoyance was like ticking a time bomb.

You can see his eyes flicker toward your lips. “It wouldn’t be fair.” Eyes colored in the darkest purple trail up to meet one another. You two stare at each other, too tense to move. “To you included.” Aemond freezes for a moment. It was as if he didn’t catch what you said. “How hypocritical of you to deem them without respect while you do the same.” You can feel a devilish grin come to your lips. “With a bastard.”

And like a scared animal, your brother jumps back. He doesn’t look frightened, mostly troubled — in his mind. Yet before you say another word, he brushes past you and dashes back into the darkness.

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acciojaeyun · 1 year

Text

good boys bring heaven to you ; lee heeseung smut

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader genre: smut (minors dni)

in which lee heeseung, the campus’ smart arse, have not-so innocent desires for the woman who needs his help in a class he succeeds in.

warnings: dom!heeseung, degradation, slight manipulation, heeseung is a fucking menace, unprotected sex (reader is taking pills; but still, wrap it before you tap it), hints of switch!hee at the bottom words: 3,603

Lee Heeseung had enough.

He had enough of the way you groaned during Chemistry. He had enough of the way you would bite your lip whenever you frustrate over elements and whatnot. He had enough of watching you suffer when he knows he could help you in the best way that he can.

And you, on the other hand, were quick to accept his invitation that was done as soon as the bell rang, hands on the strap of the bag of each huddled on each of your shoulders. Since then, you’ve tried to read the basics – however, it seems like even the General Science have given up on you.

Not like Heeseung would judge you – oh, no. He wouldn’t judge you. Not now, not ever.

But would people judge you considering that you have checked your reflection on each possible surface where your reflection could be refracted? Possibly. But have them ask you the reason behind you do, they’d possibly understand. It was undeniable that the façade of the smarty-pants of your batch in this semester’s Chemistry was as pleasing as his wit.

Yes, the whole campus agreed that Lee Heeseung is an attractive man.

Maybe that was the reason why you couldn’t seem to pass your Chemistry class, having to have seated beside him, and it’s not like you would ever want to change your seat; one, you’ve grown comfortable with it; two, this was the best class-to-board distance; and three, you had the opportunity of sitting beside him – because, fortunately, the boy looked like he didn’t have any plans on changing his seat the whole semester.

Which leads you to here, phone in hand as you try to locate Heeseung’s dorm room in the dormitory hall across yours. You double-checked the room number a lot, hoping not to mess up by knocking on a different dorm room.

Oh, and another thing: you didn’t quite understand the reason why Heeseung had decided to tutor you in his room, of all places, when the University library is of approximate distance between each of your dormitory hall. And while there is no strict prohibition for people of the other sex to visit the opposite sex’ rooms, you find yourself gushing over the idea that maybe Heeseung wanted you alone; and while however the thought sends you into a frenzy, you decided to tone things down tonight.

From your thoughts down to your clothing, keeping things simple with a casual white tee with a varsity jacket over it, paired with jeans and white sneakers.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door, and as soon as you felt a gush of air, you were welcomed with Lee Heeseung wearing an ensemble almost the same as yours minus the jacket. And of course, he couldn’t forget his signature black specs and dangling earrings.

A breath hitched in your throat, maybe accepting the offer was a bad idea, you thought. You couldn’t understand how having Heeseung, the boy that caused more distraction and destruction than inspiration, would help you in reviving your grades for Chemistry.

But Heeseung was a determined man, and he will make sure you understood it by the end of the night.

“Hello,” he smiled, eyes squinting as he ushers you in, “make yourself at home, Jake will be leaving soon.” He said as he eyed the foreign guy hunched over a pile of books in his desk.

“I am?” the boy, Jake, asked as he bit the tip of his pencil as he seemed deep in thought over whatever he was studying that time.

Heeseung gave a look at Jake, to which made Jake realise something. Gaping and nodding in realisation and smiled, “I am!” he exclaimed, rather too obviously, which made Heeseung roll his eyes and rush Jake to leave the room.

“So, as I said, make yourself at home,” Heeseung smiles as he offers to take your things from you, bringing your attention back at him as he placed all your belongings in his desk. You watched him as he walked towards the cooler, retrieving a drink.

You watched as he tipped his head backwards, downing the drink in the most – dare you say it – alluring way as possible. It didn’t help that Heeseung had recently dyed his hair ash gray, making him look ten times more attractive than he already was. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and you were certain you gulped as he downed on it.

As he was finished drinking, he looked at you and tried to hide a smirk, “Do you want some?”

“No, thank you,” you muttered as you realised that you were openly gawking at him. However, you coughed as soon as you said that. Maybe you were looking at him for too long.

“Come on, I drink this before I study,” he chuckles and walks towards you with the half full bottle of his cold honeyed tea. And while you expected him to hand over the bottle for you to drink from, he held your chin and made you open your mouth when he pinched your cheeks with his hands.

“Mouth open, baby,” he said as he poured the drink on your mouth, to which your eyes widened at such erotic action. Shit, you thought, he knew.

And as you gulped the drink down, you met his gaze and he smirked. With a drop of the tea running down your chin as you tried to swallow the sweet liquid, his eyes darkened, and he let his initial thoughts take over him as he used his thumb to wipe it off, bringing it to his lips for him to suck on his thumb.

“Sweet,” he’d whisper while never breaking eye contact.

You were left standing there as you watched the boy move towards the desk on his side of the room, pulling Jake’s desk chair in the process. “Come here,” he beckoned you over, patting the chair beside him as he turned on the lamp of his table.

And you didn’t know what happened, but as soon as Heeseung scooted his chair closer to you, you were sure you were in a trance because of the overpowering aura the boy exuded. Smelling of blackberry and bay, with hints of fresh linen and books (and you swear to yourself you could smell the faint honeyed tea which you shared a while ago).

“Are you alright, Y/N?” he’d ask once he noticed you didn’t answer a question he had just asked a while ago.

Snap out of it, Y/N.

“Yeah, yeah – “

“You don’t really seem concentrated, do you?” he tutted as he held your gaze, his hand coming near you to push your hair behind your shoulder.

“I am!” you spoke too soon, making the boy chuckle. “Oh, you are now?” he challenged, licking his lips as he played with the ends of your hair, “Say, what is the unit that we call for the amount of a substance in a solution?”

“Matter?”

“Oh, honey,” he fake-pitied, tutting as he pulls your chair closer to him, the act making the sound of the wood against the floor creak, mixed in with your squeal, “that’s wrong, I’m sorry,”

“How about, let’s turn this into a game?” he challenged, eyes darting back and forth between your eyes and lips, his teeth taking in his bottom lip as he thought of the things he would do to you.

“W – what game? I don’t – I don’t think that’s –”

“Relax, baby, I’ll take care of you, you want to learn now, don’t you?” he chuckled as he dimmed the light of the dormitory. He started ghosting his lips over the expanse of your cheek as he bowed over your figure, “Now, let’s start with some instructions, shall we?”

You nodded at his inquiry, to which he slightly groaned at your obedience. “God, you’re making me go crazy, babe,” he said as he traced your face with his finger. “First, get one question right, I’ll strip one clothing of mine; get it wrong, and it’s your clothes that are off.”

“No touching, and of course – do your best, what do you think, baby?”

You seemed to be at a loss of words, that the best thing that you could do was a silent ‘yes’ with a frantic nod of the head. You were entirely submissive to this man, and it was driving you crazy.

“Well then, sweetheart, let’s say that water is hard,” he starts, accentuating the last word as he used his finger to force your face to meet his, “is it because of the presence of calcium, sulphate, or magnesium?”

“Fuck,” you whispered, trying to remember what the professor had mentioned last time, “I can’t –“

“Of course, you can. Surely enough you weren’t that distracted by me, ‘no?”

“I – sulphate?”

His eyes darkened as he smirked. He intended to confuse you with the way he constructed his question. He licked his lips as he pulled away, “Top off, sweetheart. It’s sulphate, calcium, and magnesium.”

You gulped and nodded, slowly trying to understand the trajectory of everything that is happening. You stood up and timidly tried to take off your top, Heeseung’s eyes trained on to every inch of your torso from the waist up.

“God, you’re so sexy,” Heeseung said in a low voice before retrieving your jacket and white t-shirt to discard on his bed. He winked when he saw your cheeks redden, “Come on, we don’t have the whole night,” he says impatiently as he pulls you back to your seat.

“What’s the purpose of the salt bridge in electrochemical cells?” he asked as he started peppering your shoulders with kisses, as his means of distracting you.

You, on the other hand, almost broke down at the feeling of his lips. You could feel your underwear cling to you the longer it gets soaked by the wetness of your pussy. “Heeseung,” you pleaded, eyes fluttering shut as you tried to relish the faint ghost of his lips.

“That’s not the answer, princess,”

“I – they – um, they –“ you continued to stutter as you feel his mouth sucking on the root of your neck, each word being replaced by a moan, and your hands tried to grip on him but he was quick enough to hit them away.

“Dumb girls don’t get to touch their tutors now, do they?”

“Heeseung, please,”

“Oh, never thought you’d be into begging. Tough luck, sweetheart, you came here to learn. And by the looks of it, you seem to be enjoying this rather than not.” He tutted, biting your skin, making you gasp at his sudden action.

“What’s the answer?”

“Fuck – I don’t know!”

Heeseung sighed in faux disappointment, “They neutralize electrochemical cells. Why don’t you take off your trousers too, baby? It seems like being exposed while I’m fully dressed seem to turn you on more than humiliate you, ‘no?”

You kept your mouth shut as blood rushed to your cheeks.

“Ah, I should’ve thought so,” the ash grey-haired boy said as he started stripping off his clothes. This was way too much for you to handle, so you think. At some point, your thoughts had run back to the time where you were caught by Heeseung whenever you gave him the side-eye.

You were right, Heeseung had seen everything. The way you look at him and the way you seductively bite your lip whenever you take a sight of him even from afar. He’d seen you gush over him whenever he was around – oh, Heeseung would deem himself crazy if he chooses to let you go. And now that he had you wrapped around his finger, he wasn’t ever going to let you go.

And never he will as your eyes widened when he pulled his pants down, cock springing out from the tightness of his jeans. “Ah, shit, baby, all this for you,” he motioned at his erect cock.

Heeseung pulled the chair farther from you, where you couldn’t reach him. He sat in such a manner where you could see his dick so clearly: thighs spread; hips bucked forward. His right hand that was jerking himself off in a slow pace was the cherry on top.

“Get one question right and I’ll let you sit on my cock, what do you think?”

Your head perked up at the thought, eyes twinkling at the thought of finally getting something. You nodded at his bargain, and he almost laughed out loud at how stupidly cock-drunk you were, considering that you haven’t even had a taste of him yet.

“What makes soaps a surfactant?”

“I – shit, I know this one,” you said as you closed your eyes as you racked your head trying to remember something – at least, something.

“Micellar forces! The soap reduces the surface tension of the surface it is trying to reduce the surface tension, increasing the number of micelle or surfactants in the interface.”

“Shit, baby, you sounded so hot saying all of those,” Heeseung said, biting his lip. “C’mere, baby, sit on my lap,” he beckoned you over with two of his fingers.

You happily obliged, cradling your legs over Heeseung’s lap, grinding your soaked pussy over his erect dick, both of you moaning at the friction that settled between you both.

“God, if I only knew you’d answer correctly just for my cock, I would’ve done this ages ago,” he said as he pushed your underwear to the side, two of his fingers immediately coming up to play your clit, making you arch your back as you held on to the backrest of the wooden chair where Heeseung was sat.

“So fucking wet, baby,” he commented, meeting your hooded eyes as you tried to grind on his fingers. “Stop that.” He ordered, making you halt and surrender to the dominance that embodied Heeseung, the man that you thought was too innocent for these things.

Without a warning, he plunged in two fingers in you, making you cry at the sudden intrusion. “Oh, fuck, Heeseung!”

“Yes, baby, that’s my name,” he said, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth as he started to pump his fingers in and out of your drenched hole, spreading his fingers in a scissor-like motion occasionally to stretch you for his size. “Come on, darling, come for be, be the fucking cock-slut you are.”

“Ah, shit, Hee – oh!” you whined as he increased his pace when he added a third finger, fog protruding his lenses as he took in the sight of you, “Heeseung, I’m going to come, I’m going to – oh, fuck!”

And just when you were about to come on his fingers, Heeseung had replaced his long, slender fingers with his thick cock. He pulled you down as his hands held your waist while he thrusted up and down, “Fuck, baby, you’re so warm,” he commented as he brought his face between the valleys of your breast, kissing and licking, trying to commit to memory how good you’ve felt.

Heeseung didn’t even manage to remove your bra, he pushed the cup of your bra to the side by his face, and he took his time in licking, sucking, and biting on your left nipple, making it sore and blowing it with air afterwards to elicit a reaction from you.

“Shit, baby, you’re clenching around me,” he said as his eyes almost rolled back to his head, “You feel amazing, God – you’re so fucking sexy,” he praised as he desperately tried to chase his high along with yours.

The sound of skin clapping together, the scent of sex, and the long-forgotten Chemistry lectures were all what overstimulated your senses. And all you could ever say were profanities and Heeseung’s name, you swore you felt like you were on cloud nine. He was fucking you good, he was fucking you raw.

“Are you close?” he would ask in between pants as you nodded and whined, “Come with me,” he responded as he gave your pussy a hard thrust, his hand coming down to vigorously play with your clit, his mouth immediately latching on to your right breast; making you lose all sanity as you warned Heeseung that you were close again for the second time – and you hope, this one would be successful.

“Go, fuck, come, sweetheart – oh, shit,” Heeseung pants as you collapsed on him, hand immediately caressing your bare back as he waited for you to calm down. You were still whining slightly at the feeling of Heeseung inside you – so big and so delicious.

“Are you done?” a voice shouted from outside as they audibly felt like they hesitated in knocking on the door.

“I – I think I should go,” you blushed as you realised that Jake, Heeseung’s roommate, might have heard what you were doing.

And your ego could go low for as far.

Heeseung helped you slide off him and change back into your clothes. And against his better judgment, Heeseung jutted a kiss on your forehead as he smoothed out your hair. “See you on after lecture on Thursday?”

It was still Friday.

“Yeah, sure, see you, thank you, Heeseung.”

You have been counting the days until it was Thursday. And to be honest, you’ve never realised how time moved so slow until you realise it was still a Monday considering that you’ve felt that you’ve done so much already during the weekend.

It also didn’t help that Heeseung never reached out to you – not in texts, nor through social media.

But what happens when at the darkest hours of the Monday evening, you were greeted with a Heeseung in his pyjamas, ash grey hair ruffled as if he had just gotten out of bed, he bit his lip at the sight of you in short pyjamas and a shirt too lose that it had situated way past your shoulders, exposing your collarbones.

“I – I –“ Heeseung stuttered as he tried to formulate an excuse inside his head, on how he almost ran his way towards your dormitory without any glasses on (he swears he almost knocked on the wrong door).

“Yes, Heeseung?” you giggled at his lost figure; it wasn’t usual that Heeseung would be at a lost for words. But then again, there was a first time for everything.

“I heard you’re good in Biology,” he blushed.

“I am,” you rose an eyebrow at his statement.

“Maybe you could teach me?”

1K notes · View notes

pink-sparkly-witch · 5 months

Text

The One That Got Away - Epilogue

Warnings: fluff

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

A/N: That’s all folks! Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did.😘💖

You can catch up here!

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

ONE YEAR LATER

Dean and Y/N carried various potluck side dishes into the backyard, placing them on the long wooden table Dean had made in his spare time to accommodate his growing family.

John and Bobby were manning the grill, and Sam was playing with Miracle, the big goofball dog Dean had rescued from a burning building where his owners had sadly perished.

Jody and Mary sat at the table in the sunshine with Jess across from them, sheltering under the parasol with baby Matthew.

When the little boy saw Y/N, he gave her a big toothy smile. He wasn’t even a year old yet and had the same Winchester charm his father, uncle and grandfather had. Y/N couldn’t refuse the grabby hands and little mewls demanding she takes him from his mother’s arms and into hers.

“Hey, buddy!” Y/N smiled as she lifted Matthew and placed him on her hip. Every day his baby babbles sounded more like actual words. Although she wasn’t as versed in Matthew’s baby language as his parents were, she listened to him intently and responded whenever there was a break in his storytelling.

Today’s gathering was a double celebration. Bobby was retiring as Fire Chief at Lawrence F.D. Dean had accepted the promotion into his role and would start as the new Chief at Firehouse 3 the following week. Y/N couldn’t be prouder of her boyfriend and wouldn’t deny that him not running head-first into fires ninety percent of the time would make her life much less stressful.

“He always settles so easily with you,” Jess smiled, and Y/N glanced down to see Matthew had fallen asleep on her shoulder.

“What can I say? Kids love me,” Y/N said, giggling as Dean bent to kiss her forehead, a soft smile curving his lips upwards. The look of utter adoration that shone in his green eyes was overwhelming, and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

“Alright,” John called from the other side of the yard. “First batch of food is ready!”

“Here, let me take him so you can get something to eat. You must be starving after coming off a night shift and barely sleeping before entertaining all of us,” Jess said as she reached to take the sleeping baby from Y/N’s arms.

“It’s fine, Jess. I can survive another twenty minutes. Go, eat something hot for a change without burning your mouth!” Y/N grinned as Jess gave her a grateful smile.

Once everyone had their fill of food and relaxed with some drinks, Y/N and Jody began clearing dishes and putting away the leftovers before promising to bring more beer and another bottle of wine from the kitchen when they were finished.

“You look happy,” Jody smiled fondly.

“I am,” Y/N nodded, unable to hide her grin.

“Is he treating you right?” The older woman asked next.

“Not just right, Jody. He makes me feel safe and loved and wanted. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

“Good. I’m happy for you, kiddo. You deserve all of it,” Jody hugged her tightly and added, “And if he puts a toe out of line, he is a dead man!” The women chuckled, and Jody pulled back slightly. “Come on, let’s get these drinks out there and join the celebrations.”

Jody placed a cooler filled with ice, beer and a bottle of wine onto the table, and Y/N gave out clean glasses and placed the corkscrew and bottle opener next to it. John and Sam passed out the drinks, and when no one was left empty-handed and had settled into conversation, Dean stood and gathered everyone’s attention.

“As I’m sure you all know, I’m not good with words and find it hard to talk about my feelings. Today, I’m putting that aside to celebrate a great mentor, a great Chief, and an even greater man. I’ve been in Bobby’s Firehouse since I was a cocky probie, and he quickly knocked that out of me completely! He taught me all I know, and that’s why stepping into his shoes isn’t as terrifying now as it was the first time Bobby told me that one day, I’d be sitting in his seat.

“So, cheers, Bobby! Thank you for having patience with me, for mentoring me and teaching me all I know, for seeing something in me that I couldn’t, and for treating me like family. In and out of the Firehouse.” Dean said, and cries of cheers, congratulations and clinking glasses rang through the backyard. He cleared his throat, letting them know he wasn’t finished yet.

“I know we’re here to celebrate Bobby’s retirement and my promotion, but I’m hoping we might have another reason to celebrate. It’s times like this that I wish I could be more articulate and find the right words to talk about how I feel and the million things I really want to say… need to say. And I promise to try, but for now, the only words I have are the most important ones… Y/N,” Dean’s voice cracked as he got down on one knee before her and pulled out a little velvet box. “Will you marry me?”

Y/N’s hand flew to her mouth in shock, and tears flooded her eyes. This was all she’d ever wanted. All she’d dreamed about. A second chance with the one that got away.

“Yes!” she answered, a shriek of laughter coming straight after as Dean lifted her, held her in his strong embrace, and spun her around.

THE END

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

#the one that got away #firefighter!dean winchester x reader #au dean winchester x reader #tw: child abuse #tw: alcoholism #tw: physical abuse #tw: verbal abuse #firefighter!dean winchester #dean winchester x reader

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projectdrow · 3 months

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How the Bad Batch can end well

So here are my 5 thoughts on season 3 and what’s to come after. I recommend @eriexplosion if you like reading interesting thoughts, analysis and ramblings, a lot of their recent posts inspired this one.

First of all, the trailer was a work of art. It gave us some really random scenes, but also some very direct information that we can speculate on like crazy, if we want to. Also, the title-episode list comes in handy, I will refer to it.

1.) Episode 1-3 one go

I’ll come back to why the show needs to end before May the 4th later, and that’s another reason for the multiple episode days.

When a streaming service like Disney drops more than one episode, they often do so because they think viewers might be lost, because the single (first) episode does not have the full “boom-bang-drama” potential.

I think we’ll see the liberation of Crosshair, maybe even Omega, in the first three episodes. The trailer makes no secret of the fact that Cross will rejoin the team. So this story will not be the main focus of the whole season and the first episode might built up solely for the climax of the escape/liberation in episode 3. At least something heavy will happen at the end of “Shadows of Tantiss”

2.) Omega as the main character

Omega’s character is a very typical tool in storytelling. Throw a character who knows nothing into an established system, so she learns everything with/for the viewer. Sure, the boys are main characters, too, but Omega is the point of view of the kids(! - I’ll come back to that later)-show we’re watching. She can’t be gone for that long, because I don’t think season 3 will be a “Omega’s adventures on Mt. Tantiss”. I think episode 6 and 7 (“Infiltration” and “Extraction”) the latest will bring her back.

3.) So what’s the story?

Actually, and some might say that’s a big take, a lot of the first episodes will be about Tech. I don’t think I need to elaborate to anyone why it makes no sense for him to be dead and never had.

When we first saw this Clone X, there were some interesting “Undercover-Tech” ideas, but after analyzing the trailer in more depth and especially what appears to be an attack on Pabu led by this Clone, well, I think that’s Tech. And not undercover, no, the full on brainwashed, highly dangerous Imp!Tech. Episode 10 is called “Identity Crisis”, which could very well be Tech’s. But they’ll get him back, don’t worry, also because the second part will be about the BB finally deciding what to do with their lives. Which leads directly to 5.), but first:

4.) (Almost) no one dies

Two reasons. First: We already had that devastating Tech-death scene. He AND Asajj will be brought back from the dead this season. Any further death this season wouldn’t convince anyone anymore, not even the kids.

Second: The kids. It’s still a children’s show. Yes, Star Wars kills of characters in them too, but @eriexplosion made a very good point in this post: That’s not what this show is about. TBB has been about the struggle of Clones finding their place, finding family, finding a meaning. All of that would be for naught, and that’s why I think everyone survives.

Also: The last episode is called: “The Cavalry has Arrived”.

5.) About the future

I think the Bad Batch was intended to be released earlier. As well as the trailer. But with the strikes and Filoni being promoted, their was a lot going on. With the triplet opening and the double episodes, we’ll finish on May 1st. And that would be just to perfect to announce the follow-up-project on May 4th. I see another Clone series on the horizon. The Clones work, the people love them, it’s all there, the characters, the stories, the animation. It’s a safe bet for Lucasfilm. And sure, it would work with Rex, Cody and more as main characters, but the Batch was intended to be and is a stark contrast to the “Regs”, especially if they get Cross and Tech back.

Sure, Omega could be the leading figure again, but… nah. I am writing this because I’m absolutely convinced that we won’t have seen the last of the complete BadBatch after season 3.

Star Wars is about Hope. So I hope.

#The Bad Batch #Star Wars #TBB speculation

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strawbeerossi · 9 months

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Fearless

Pairing: Unsub!Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Part Description: Weeks after the incident with Cat and her death, Spencer is left with vivid dreams that make him question his job, his morals, and the path he took to protect the innocent.

Content Warnings: Coarse language, night terrors, mention of masturbation but nothing explicit, unsub!Spencer makes an appearance, violence, death, ambiguous ending.

Word Count: 2.2K

Part one || Part two || Part three

Navigation || Masterlist || Request

Highly anticipated part three and the end of a very brief series. I’m confident it’s gonna leave y’all wanting more for the way I ended it soooo feel free to message/ask for scenarios and one shots regarding Unsub!Spence

Lightning strikes, lighting up the alley where Spencer had doubled over, hands on his knees while he took in a deep breath. Blood splatter was on the side of the abandoned brick building, a body slumped in place.

This wasn’t something that went according to plan, the feeling of rain soaking the suit stained with crimson. He didn’t know what came over him. It was like he was.. He was a shadow of his former self.

He enjoyed pressing the blade of the knife deep within his victim’s neck, the way blood managed to spurt onto his face. It gave him a rush, a hit of adrenaline that was stronger than any drug he could’ve done.

There was an awakening inside of him, a burn deep in his gut that was almost arousing. He didn’t have any erectile issues, so he was curious on how stabbing a man could bring out such animalistic feelings.

The man who made an oath to protect innocence, the man who worked for fifteen goddamn years of his life to rid the world of darkness now falling into a dangerous addiction that not even the BAU would be able to stop.

Spencer’s eyes were popping open, a thin veil of sweat covering his face as he was quickly sitting up on the bed, head tilting to the side to look over at the bright light of the alarm clock.

3 A.M.

His eyes were shifting over in the direction of the body in bed beside him, Y/N’s body stretched out as the moonlight was giving a pale light into the quiet bedroom. Spencer let his hands come up to rub his face tiredly.

Pulling the duvet off of himself, he was quietly getting out of bed. Last thing he needed was to wake his girlfriend up and be at the risk of being questioned. His feet were quietly shuffling on the carpeted floor in efforts to quietly get to the bathroom.

A shower won’t hurt.

These nightmares had been consistent for the past few weeks, ever since the incident with Y/N and Cat. Spencer had killed unsubs before, people who had given him no other choice. They always haunted him, a once young man who was struggling with facing the darkness of his career. As he got older, his empathy and emotions stayed intact.

Until he went to prison.

Prison made him have to survive in whatever means possible. He’d gotten beaten, he watched another inmate who became his friend have his throat slit in front of him, he was even tampering with a batch of drugs he had to distribute. He had to be strong, not show his fear or weakness.

When he found out that Cat was behind the absolute hell he endured, he wanted nothing more than to kill her. He wanted to watch the life drain from her eyes when he choked her to death, to have that smug bitch succumb to his bare hands. He wanted to outsmart her and win this whole game once and for all.

Well, he managed to do that, a bullet to the brain being something that he had to settle for. Instead of seeing her face, instead he was faced with yet another dilemma; Y/N. She was a murderer, darkness looming behind her sweet exterior. She lured men in, using her charm and sex appeal to catch them at their weakest. He’d learned it very early on in their relationship, it being too obvious.

No normal woman disappears at all hours of the night wearing the best clothes and looking like a delicate, beautiful doll. He let her do it, as horrible as it was. He loved her and refused to lose her, no matter what the circumstances would be. Prison was hell, he’d been there. He wouldn’t send the woman who he’d fallen in love with to the wolves. There was a sick part of him that loved it. Loved the idea of her brutality coming out with another man and then her quickly getting cleaned up to come home to him.

As he was recalling the night in question, Spencer sucked in a deep breath as he was turning on the shower head. He still couldn’t believe he’d killed Cat. He thought that it would haunt him, that the whole ordeal was going to be nothing but another bucket of trauma dumped in the bottomless pit in his brain.

However, it awakened something different inside of him. He loved that he killed her, he loved watching her body fall like dead weight, he loved the sight of the blood on his girlfriend's face as she looked at him in pure shock.

There was a low groan that left Spencer’s lips, cock hard at the thoughts of taking care of the one woman who tortured him for years. It took thirty minutes before his thick ropes of cum were going down the shower drain, his sins being washed away for the time being.

After cleaning himself up, it wasn’t long until he was quietly sneaking back into the bedroom. He didn’t bother with clothes, just sliding under the sheets while his gaze was on the alarm clock again.

4:25 A.M.

Insomnia was starting to set in. Six hours worth of sleep isn’t the worst thing.

The movement in the bed had the other body shifting under the sheets, a soft yawn leaving the woman’s lips as she was slowly rolling her body over to face her boyfriend. “Nightmares again?” She asked in a hushed tone, her soft touch bringing him out of his thoughts. “Yeah, you can say that.” He said softly while letting an arm drape around his girlfriend’s smaller frame.

“Mmm, I’m sorry.” She spoke softly, face nuzzling in his chest as her eyes were fluttering shut. She wasn’t aware of his urges and Spencer felt that was best. He’d warned her that he’d kill her himself if he found out she was going back to her old ways, yet here he was developing a thirst for blood that he couldn’t quench.

Spencer was a lot of things but a hypocrite wasn't one of them. At least, he liked to believe that to be the case.

The next few weeks were the same. Although the nightmares got more vivid, his blood lust worsening the itch became more urgent to scratch. He felt like he was losing his mind, the need overshadowing any form of reasoning.

That’s how he found himself here, at a bar. He told Y/N that he was going out with the guys for the night, the idea of sneaking behind her back to do the very thing he chastised her for made him feel a new rush.

Getting caught by the police wouldn’t happen but getting caught by Y/N; That could definitely be a possibility.

After years of being the good guy who caught the notorious serial killers who ruined lives, it was his turn to use every ounce of knowledge he had to avoid getting caught. He knew establishments that didn’t have cameras, even some where you can pay to remain anonymous.

He’d chosen a place where he could keep his anonymity, the woman at the front taking the payment and letting him through, not getting a name nor number. Spencer covered his bases, an oversized hoodie covering his head as he walked into the building. It was a bar, a dimly lit bar that was any murderer’s dream.

He had made it to the bar, ordering a drink for himself as his gaze was scanning over the faces in the bar. It was mostly men and women looking for affairs, there being another building down the street that offered rooms for the night. Now, Spencer couldn’t be seen in the area after they left, so he had his own plan. Tonight was going to be the night.

However, his mouth ran dry when he heard a familiar voice, head snapping over to see his girlfriend at the same bar. What the fuck? Did she learn nothing? Why was she here?

Like Spencer, his girlfriend had urges that needed to be fulfilled. She’d found out about this man in particular from police reports. She stalked him for weeks, learning his routine and secrets. That’s how she landed here tonight.

The couple briefly locked eyes, Y/N’s eyes widening from surprise as she was staring into the familiar honey colored irises. Instead of coming over to profusely apologize, a smirk was pulling onto her lips as she grabbed her drink from the bar while she was leaning over to the unknown man beside her, the two talking quietly amongst one another.

She’d giggle, put her hand on his upper arm, even lean in closer to whisper sweet nothings. There was a burning sensation inside of Spencer. There was jealousy and anger beginning to bubble over the surface. Was she doing this on purpose?

The male was pushing the glass he’d been nursing away as he approached his girlfriend and the man sitting beside her. There was a feeling of power that Spencer felt when he was heading over. “Hey, I noticed you two from across the bar.” He began, that awkward tight lipped smile on his face. “I’m not used to things like this but I was wondering if you two wanted to come with me to the next bar?”

Y/N was playing along, a gasp leaving her lips as she gripped the bicep of the black haired man beside her. “We should! Who doesn’t like making friends?” She asked, an eyebrow raising as she let her tongue run over her lower lip in a slow and deliberate motion.

Spencer wasn’t gonna do what she thought he was going to do. There was no way.

Like the idiot that this guy was, he was shrugging and agreeing to accompany the two to another bar. “It can’t be so bad, right?” He asked as he let an eyebrow raise, a smile on his face.

Oh. If he only knew.

The couple and the unsuspecting victim were heading out of the bar together, the woman letting her arm link with the attractive stranger’s beside her. The night brought a quiet atmosphere, the streets being empty. The side of town they were in wasn’t too sketchy but things happened there plenty of times.

As they were walking past an alley, Y/N and Spencer shared a glance; one where she was almost daring him to make a move. He took up the dare, quickly grabbing the male by his collar before shoving him against the brick wall closest to them. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to blindly trust strangers?” The woman spoke up while shaking her head in faux disappointment. “Sweetheart, you had such a promising chance!” She taunted while glancing up at Spencer, anticipating his next move.

While reaching into her bra, it wasn’t long until the woman was holding up a switchblade. “Are you gonna be a man or do I have to show you how to do this?” She taunted her boyfriend, smirking as his darkened eyes were focused on her. “You better watch your mouth or you’ll be the next one in this position.”

She should've been the one in this position. After all, she corrupted his mind. She made him push himself into being a man that he feared he would become, the woman being the driving influence of all of this stress and all of these violent thoughts.

As the blade was gripped in his hand, his knuckles were turning white. There was a small voice in the back of his mind begging him to be rational, however it was being overshadowed by the feeling of sheer power the moment that the blade punctured the skin.

“Stabbing someone thirty times would actually be quite tiring,” Spencer inferred, balling up his fist as he was hitting his thigh thirty times to emulate the stabbings in the intensity of the story told through the stab wounds. “You’re right. This would have worn anyone out.” Gideon agreed, the sheet being pulled back as they were inspecting the victim in front of them.

“The question is, what pushes someone to violence of this degree?” Elle was asking, her arms crossed as she was combing over any reasoning in her mind.

“We need to figure that out.” Jason stated as he was looking between the two young agents. “What causes a psychotic break?

Trauma. Anguish. Pain.

Fifty stabs and slashes did the trick for Spencer, the knife finally falling out of his hand the minute that the lifeless man was falling like a weight. Did he really just do that?

“Wow, Spence.” Y/N brought him out of his trance as she was bringing a hand up to cover her mouth. “You said that I was brutal but look at-”

She was cut off as her body was being slammed up against the wall behind them, eyes widening. Although before she could plead for her case, she was cut off by a rough kiss, one that was enough to knock the wind out of her entirely. With his bloodied hands falling on he hips, the woman was letting her eyes flutter shut as their kissing got heavier, displaying a dark realization.

Spencer liked it.

As he kept her planted against the brick wall, he pulled from the kiss and let out a huff of air. “We need to go.” He murmured, stopping to pick up the knife he’d previously dropped before grabbing Y/N’s hand. It was only a matter of time before some drunk asshole was stumbling upon the dead body and he’d rather avoid the issue.

Running through the night, the two had intertwined fingers, laughter filling the quiet night air as the realization of their actions had set in.

The world had scarred Spencer for far too long, it was his turn to scar the world back. This was his chance to reclaim his power and strength after many years of having it slowly stripped away from him.

This was the start of his story.

This was his turn to act in self indulgence, to enjoy himself for what he liked.

The best part was?

He’d never get caught.

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mayakern · 5 months

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How do you decide what color to use as a base for skirts? I ask because I sometimes decide whether to get a skirt based (ha) on what color skirts I already have. I have sooooo many skirts with green and black bases that I'm looking to switch things up. That's why I can't wait till the aurora skirt is back in stock and why I ordered a meyoco waves one. (I also really liked the purple for the hydrangeas skirt, if there are any extras I hope I can snag it)

it depends on the design, but i usually go into skirt designs with a pretty clear idea of the color palette i want. even when sketching the mountain skirt, i was fairly confident i wanted it to look almost monochrome, but i sketched the second version just to confirm my certainty.

and i do this a lot—if i go into a skirt design with anything less than 100% certainty, i mock up a few color options just to confirm my inclinations

actually, the designs where the base color is most often in question are usually collab designs and there are a lot of times where i will either slightly alter or completely change their base colors (with permission, ofc) before they take their concepts from sketches to final.

this can be for a number of reasons, but the primary reasons are usually:

we have an over saturation of that color in the store at the moment, or in the production batch this is slotted for and need to differentiate it more

that color won’t print well with our specific printer

they chose a color in RGB that looked bad in CMYK (what we print in)

that color has sold poorly recently so we are avoiding it for a while

in general when i pick colors, i try not just to make a cohesive skirt design, but to pick a palette that while still being unique, is something people can build outfits around. it’s trickier than you might think and for me has become largely instinctual, but i also always double check with devin when i’m uncertain because they have a broader scope of fashion than me and tend to be more on top of general trends than i am.

#ask #store #maya draws things

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the-s1lly-corner · 4 months

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Flirting with Laughing Jack

i said i was going to make the flirting with (crp character) a series and then i instantly forgot to continue it anyways uhuhuh i love clowns... going to work on other requests later im just doing this to keep me busy between my batches of cookies baking

oh he would giggle so much if you started to flirt or tease him... like im talking really happy giddy kinds of giggles, probably vibrating too ... maybe even holding his hands on his face

i see loads of people changing what color he blushes; some grey, others pink or red... though i like to idea of him blushing a greyish-blue/purple, but that might just be from how i personally draw his blush (shrugs)

he purr a lot, and i think he would be purring while you're flirting with him

looooooooove pick up lines, especially the silly cheesy ones or ones that are more joke-like!

i can easily see him firing back a line when you're trying to quickly fluster him in passing.... howls in laughter when you do a double take or pause for a second after he says something

you know what? i want this clown to have more clown traits

sometimes he steams when you tease him too much, usually the steam comes from the collar/ruffle of his top... sometimes he gets all wobbly (but this part is more so him committing to the dip... he can be a little dramatic sometimes..)

if you decide to dress up all pretty for him hes going to actually become the awooga meme, theres going to be whistles and steam and hes probably going to smack himself in the head with a hammer/j

he unhinges his jaw and comically lets his tongue hang out/j

lots and lots of banter between the two of you, even when you guys arent being romantic, you guys are always bouncing off of one another in conversation

i think jack might try to one up you, though, and it kind of turns into who can make the other person more flustered

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta imagine #laughing jack x you #laughing jack x reader #laughing jack imagine

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archivalofsins · 8 months

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So, I've seen the new Amane gifs and-

Spoilers under the cut.

Big sister Shion, I think you misplaced your taser-

Again.

In all seriousness, I would like to discuss the second gif in this batch. Since at first glance, it looked like Amane arriving home to me. However, it could come off as an abduction. If she's leaving a public area or is in one. Something that's still a possibility given all the papers covering the door.

Unless, for some reason, Amane's family just hangs papers on the inside of their home door or own a business that does that. Either of these things could be the case. Since we see them working on a set in Magic, and they could put things up at home like this to remind them of certain things. That's not uncommon in familial residences, after all.

However, the papers and cards there looked to be put up for advertising purposes. Kind of like what one would see on a bulletin board just on the door. This is usually done on the front doors of businesses, which is why I said this makes it possible for this scene to be an abduction.

Now I do believe that Riyone, the one shown to use electricity on Amane in Magic, is more than likely her mother. However, I also believe her parents are more than likely divorced, and her mother was using the pilgrimage thing to kill two birds with one stone.

Q.09 Tell us your family structure.

Kazui: It’s only me now.

Amane: It was my father, my mother and me.

By explaining away her father's sudden absence and displaying to Amane that her father believes in this too. This would motivate Amane to take these teachings more seriously because, as we have been shown over and over again, Amane has great respect, admiration, and love for her father.

Q.02 Who do you look up to?

Kazui: You won’t know them even if I say, but I have a childhood friend I really respect. Sorry for just answering someone from my personal life.

Amane: My father. He’s been away on a trip for a while, but I think that’s very honourable of him.

So, if she was led to believe that her father followed these teachings as well she would try harder to be a good girl in order to,

A. Make her dad proud.

B. Be like her father.

C. Possibly see him if she's good enough.

Q.13 Who do you want to see right now?

Kazui: They won’t see me anymore.

Amane: My father. I want him to praise me for all my hard work.

Japan favors leaving the kid with the parent, which will cause the least change in the child's life. So, they tend to give custody to the parent the child is living with at the time. This is why it's become common for parents who are about to divorce their spouse to either kick the other out of the home or move without notice taking the kid(s) with them and then get a divorce.

"Parents secretly moving out and taking children with them isn’t unheard of-in fact, it’s often viewed in Japan as justified, in part because of instances where domestic violence is alleged. Such unilateral separations are legal in Japan, but if the other parent attempts to take the child back, that can be considered an illegal removal."

This would explain why Kazui and Amane were paired together as their stories may heavily involve highlighting the failings of the divorce system.

If Amane's mother did do this, then her father wouldn't have any legal right to see Amane, and her mom could just come up with any excuse for his absence she wanted. Something that divorced parents tend to do anyhow even when not given such beneficial circumstances to do it under.

"Each year, divorce affects roughly 200,000 Japanese children, double that of 50 years ago in a country where the total number of minors has plummeted. Of children with divorced parents, 1 in 3 said they eventually lost all contact with the noncustodial parent, a 2021 government survey showed. Given the system’s winner-take-all approach, spousal battles have only intensified, escalating the economic and emotional damage." X

Overall, given what we know, Amane's situation is rather complicated. However, I find it very telling that a lot of people are willing to endanger/torment a child for the safety and comfort of a bunch of adults.

Simply because this is always how child abuse and neglect has been treated by society. Especially when done by a parent. The concept itself is so abhorrent and senseless that many would rather look away from the issue entirely than confront it. Even if they must shift the blame to the victim to do so.

It's easier to go,

"Well, that kid must have done something to get that response from their parent."

Objectively true statement. Something was done to cause this. That's simply how cause and effect work. However, that something can range from things as simple as helping another person in a way they deem unacceptable

or breathing wrong.

The victim undergoing familial abuse doesn't get to pick the struggle it fucking picks them. It's Monday and their primary caretaker had a bad day at work? Guess who's getting beat again. This may be the rest of their evening or week now. Aw shit- did they get a low grade on a test?

Hope they're ready to go to the quiet room or sit at a table for seven hours to be taught this from the beginning. Because they're making their parent(s) look bad. If only they were smarter and not a complete embarrassment, then they could be having fun right now.

20/06/18

Amane: Thank you very much for teaching me. ……but, though I realise it’s strange me saying this after I asked you, I must admit it’s kind of unexpected. You give off the impression of someone who wouldn’t want to get involved in things like this.

Kotoko: ……well, you’re not wrong. I’m surrounded by people who could all be murderers, so I don’t plan on going out of my way to talk and make friends. I can’t let my guard down. But I like ambitious people like you. If you want to study more, then I’m happy to teach.

Amane: I see…… You look scary at first impression, but I quite like the way you treat everyone equally regardless of whether they’re older or younger than you. You don’t just treat me like a child or anything like that.

Kotoko: Treat you like a child? Hah, you’ve got to be kidding. Back when I was your age, I was already the person I am today. I don’t have any plans to let you get away with something just “because you’re a child.” ……remember that. There, I’ve finished marking. 83%. How do I put it… Even though you act like this, it’s not like you’re super brilliant at studying or anything, huh.

Ah, they managed to fix all those things; man, that's nice. Why do they always need something (clothes, food, water, etc)? Have they thought of their parent(s) needs lately? Recognized how hard their parent(s) are trying. They have it rather good, considering some kids are out there starving. How can they be so ungrateful?

Shifting the onus of blame onto the victim is quite literally a good way to make sure the bar is always moving, and success is unobtainable. This is literally the first thing abusive parents do. Make the abuse seem like the child's fault.

"Well, that was then - this is now. You don't have to keep behaving this way. You're in a safe environment."

An objectively true statement. However, that may not feel emotionally true due to how long the individual has been in an unsafe environment, the likelihood of them changing the behavior that they learned to cope with that immediately is pretty much nonexistent.

"If they were unhappy, they'd say something. It would show more they wouldn't be doing as good at school."

No, they wouldn't; depending on the severity and duration of the abuse.

Usually, the intention of child abusers, especially parents who abuse their children, is to not get caught. They will actively go out of their way to make it look like things are as good as possible. If the kid does or says something that contradicts that they'll just punish them. So, when well-meaning people go,

"Is something wrong?"

The first instinct for a child suffering under familial abuse may be to lie. Because if they don't, whoever they are talking to may discuss what they have told them with their caretaker leading to them getting in trouble again. Sometimes parents that partake in this type of behavior will even coach their kids when it comes to lying.

"How'd you get this?" - "Playing."

"Why did you miss so many days of school?" - "I caught a cold."

"Hey, do you like it at home?" - "Yep, my life is great. My parent(s) and I do (acceptable to mention hobby here) on these days. It's a lot of fun. Why do you ask?"

For children living under these sorts of conditions every waking moment is a fucking balancing act. They either say the right thing or get in trouble because at the end of the day they're going to have to go back home. So, children living under these sorts of conditions are well aware of what happens if they act a certain way in public by the time they reach school age.

"I mean, it could be that... but it's best not to pry."

The quiet part out loud. People don't want to be bothered by it. It's uncomfortable and usually considered to not be the business of outside parties unless it's child services. So, people look the other way and get uncomfortable when it's even alluded to near them. They'll look at the kid and go well, that's bumming me out. Best to think about things that can be solved at the end of the day. I mean, that's their legal guardian. I can't tell someone else how to raise their kids.

That's just how a majority of people view child abuse/neglect. Because children are either a nice thing to have around, or a problem that should be ignored or handled. Everyone in Milgram outside of Amane has been given a good deal of the benefit of the doubt. Despite them all being older and just as capable of understanding their behavior along with the hurt it has caused while rationalizing why they did it as she is.

Amane is the only character in the series who has been treated with the scrutiny of an adult despite everything she's been through. To me, that's very fucked up. It's gotten to the point that I don't believe people even recognize they're doing it. They don't recognize they're justifying continuing to let a kid remain in an abusive environment because it makes their lives easier. Because then they'll be more comfortable.

Directly mirroring the way child abuse is pushed to the side and swept under the rug in the real world.

Because at the end of the day people only care about children when it's convenient for them. When it's easy to care, when the person they're protecting the kid from is someone they already dislike. People have no trouble pointing out these issues then. Because it's easy to talk about the pain of children or someone being younger when it helps others support or deny something they already feel a certain way about.

It's easy for one to conclude that what Futa did was wrong, that Mu, Yuno, or Haruka made a mistake because of their ages and upbringing. Yet when shown the horrendous treatment Amane has endured and her age being put on full display from the beginning... Somehow there's still room to dance around the idea of whether she should be Innocent (Forgiven) or not.

Despite being given the option to not continue to torment the youngest, most vulnerable, and consistently neglected person here, many can suddenly find a good deal of justifications to continue her punishment.

All I did was say a bad thing was wrong, how was I to know that was gonna to happen; what about what you're doing?

"Futa isn't sorry, he just doesn't want to get punished." A lot of people wanted to discuss remorse earlier and how Futa displays it. Yet, showing remorse isn't indicative of change. Plus, remorse and shame look a lot alike.

The most important thing with Futa is he not only recognized that what he did was wrong regardless of how he displays that- He, also took the necessary steps to change his behavior moving forward. In order to prevent what had happened before from happening again. He's actively attempted to show more concern for those younger than himself since entering Milgram.

Even though he isn't particularly good at communicating, he goes out of his way to attempt to check in on others and asks about them. Despite saying he can't afford to do that he's still done so. Even going to inquire about Haruka.

He can do that but despite seeing the consequences of our judgements, a lot of people are too comfortable with doubling down on some of the most disenfranchised characters within Milgram. Simply because the idea of that sort of person existing to some is a personal offense.

That's fine Milgram let's you vote on that alone after all. However, I definitely wouldn't like my name being used to excuse the mistreatment of others. So, instead of saying it's for another prisoner's sake how about we cut out the middleman and get straight to the point.

Some people within the fandom would be more comfortable with Milgram if Amane were restrained. It would give certain individuals a sense of peace of mind.

No matter how easily broken that will be by whatever prisoner decides to act up next during the intermission in response to their verdict.

Despite everyone in Milgram showing little or no fear of Amane and Mahiru literally saying this,

Q.13 What do you think of Amane?

Shidou: Us adults need to do something for her. I can’t do anything while looking after the injured right now so I have to leave it to someone else, which is bothering me.

Mahiru: I would’ve loved to play a lot with her if she was doing better.

So, it'd be nice if people stopped using Mahiru as an excuse to hurt another prisoner that she has admitted to liking numerous times.

Q.10 Which of the other prisoners do you get along with?

Kazui: Shidou-kun, Mikoto and me all smoke together, so I think we get along well.

Amane: If I had to pick someone, then Yuno-san and Mahiru-san.

Plus, this is simply rich; looking back on all these people discussing the safety and care of children to compare it to how they're acting now. Justifying continuing the mental suffering of a child simply because it appears narratively convenient to them. You're going to meta vote the kid twice, really? Okay, go ahead.

That's the sort of place Milgram is after all. A place that says children only matter when they can fit into the framing most convenient to the one speaking. It doesn't matter if Amane is tortured blatantly on screen, it doesn't matter if she's having a rough time. Because a bunch of people have already decided that coddling adults who should damn well be able to protect themselves is more important than a child's safety.

Not surprising or disappointing, that's just the natural way of things in society.

I mean you might as well, I don't know-

Ignore the consistent signs of familial abuse happening around her, ostracize her because the idea makes you uncomfortable, avoid her like a plague. Put her in the corner because children are meant to speak only when spoken to.

Oh...hm that sounds familiar-

Lol, fuck kids though am I right? The only time people decided to care about Satoko, and her lived experiences, was when she was a teenager. Maybe if Amane was a few years older, then her lived experiences would matter. For now, though, nah-

Moving on! I'd also like to discuss two other gifs; the close-up of the baton with rope attached and the attempted flag twirling. Given what we've seen I believe that Purge March will be retreading what we are shown in Magic except subtracting Amane's idealized view of things.

It was implied that this was her ideal at the end of Magic through this image-

A scene that brings to question all of the presentation of Magic. That made me wonder if this is how things went or just Amane's more idealized retelling.

Star pointed out the absence of anyone in front of the stage in her post Sunday. However, there's another thing that's odd. The thing we see before the credits roll isn't everyone standing together as they are in the end but Amane by herself brandishing her wand-

However, unlike when she first brandished it her chibi form her wand moves from her left hand to her right back to her left again before the fake credits role at the end of Magic.

This also happens directly after everyone just mysteriously disappears like right before this she was dancing with just Yuri and Riyone-

Since we noticeably see Yuri isn't holding anyone else's hand and Riyone doesn't seem to be either. So, where did Gachata and Gozake go? Then when they are back in the credits it's like this-

Instead of Amane being in between Yuri and Riyone like she was before she's between Gozake and Riyone.

Since she did this when no one else seemed to be present this could mean a variety of things. One that she may have used the wand more than once, two she did a routine of some sort which she just finished, or even denote handedness meaning her left hand is more than likely her dominant one.

Considering how her routine begins with the wand in her left hand and ends with it in her left hand. However, I don't know enough about baton twirling to say. Plus, every video I've found on it has emphasized starting with one's right hand regardless of dominance. So, this is odd.

(Star here! Given the religious aspects of Amane's circumstances, it could also be something to do with the stigma left-handed people have/had. They might have forced her to use her right hand for things. A prime example of this is the gif of her attempting to spin the flagpole. This could indicate that Amane was forced to use her right hand, resulting in a loss of motor skills you wouldn't get when using your dominant hand. Further backing this is the fact that in the close-up gif of Amane twirling the baton, she starts with her left hand and then transfers it to her right)

Adding to that in baton twirling people are specifically trained to use both hands and it's widely accepted that one is meant to start with the right. Though the baton is usually meant to be the length of one's dominant hand.

Video on Baton Measuring: X, X

Outside of giving us a possible idea on her handedness- This also adds more depth to this answer given by Amane in her first written interrogation-

Q.14 Do you listen to music?

Kazui: I guess I do from time to time. It’s all super old music though, so I don’t think you’ll know it.

Amane: I don’t particularly listen to it for fun.

Because if Amane is majorette which has been all but stated, she would listen to music predominantly to practice her routines. This would give more depth to her pairing with Kazui as well. Since they've both been heavily related to the performing arts in some way.

Baton Twirling routines: X, X, X, X, X

What Amane appeared to be doing in the new gif using the baton with the string: X

(What Amane appears to have attempted with the flag toss: X)

Back to how Purge March may be the same events just less idealized.

If you look at these frames-

Notice that the way the flagpole lands on Amane's head and how the impact affects her mirrors this scene of Gachata flicking her forehead.

(This time, it's Star typing something! Gunsli was busy for a bit so I was headed to write this up o7

Taking this and the gif of her desperately trying to make her way through the water to grab the flag in front of her, it's likely they are going to use the switch from flagpole to baton as an allegory. Specifically, to better illustrate the timeline of events/order of circumstances.

Though, to expand on this, the flag may also represent the idea of everyone living happily together that Amane refers to in Magic. The baton, however, represents the ideologies surrounding the cult her family is involved in. If this is true, then it could also be visual shorthand for the idea of Amane changing her priorities.)

With that I think we're done here. There's a lot of interesting things about Purge March and I think it's going to follow up on Magic well. It's making me more and more excited for Double. Milgram has been very hush-hush about Amane and Mikoto. So, their songs might just end up speaking more than any of the others so far.

#milgram #amane momose #cw child abuse

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klbwriting · 3 months

Text

Adventures In Atlantean-Sitting

Chapter 4

Fandom: Aquaman

Pairing: Ormxfemale!Reader

Warnings: none, this is just cute

Summary: Orm is being grumpy and YN has had enough

Arthur was going to lose his damn mind. The council just would not stop with the nagging. He often found himself seeking out reasons to stay in his quarters just in case he was around the palace grounds, and they found him. He hated the meetings, hated the appointments they made, hated everything about them at this point. It had barely been a week and they were acting like he was doing nothing. He had sent the search party like they asked, they found nothing, he went himself, brought images back from the surface showing him searching, nothing. Mera even intervened and informed them that her father had joined the search, and they still wouldn’t let up.

“Your majesty, if you would just let one of us go, we could cooperate your story…” Horvath said again. Arthur nearly growled.

“My story councilman?” he asked, voice a dangerous bass. The councilman straightened up and cleared his throat. “You all think that I want my crazy brother wandering around? My son is still there, on the surface. You know the one he kidnapped with Manta, tried to sacrifice to a crazy frozen warlord. If you think I would even for a moment risk my child to protect that worthless dick of a brother, you are all crazy.” The council murmured and he could see that his words were not holding their weight as much as they used too. Something was going on here and he needed to figure it out fast before the council did something he couldn’t control.

Orm had been the biggest baby the entire first week with YN. He stomped around, trying to avoid her, but it was a one room cottage, he couldn’t go very far. He tried multiple times to get rid of the cuff and more often than not spent time on the floor waiting for the tranq to get out of his system so he could walk again, or he was shocked and ended up having to deal with the pain for the day since his advanced healing no longer worked. He never realized how much a paper cut hurt until now, and he didn’t like it.

YN was trying, she really was, to make his stay with her comfortable. She let him have her bed, did his laundry, made him food, and he was being such a whiny grump about everything that she couldn’t take it anymore. She finally baked a batch of double chocolate chip cookies, knowing at least his sweet tooth wouldn’t be able to resist, and left them on the table. She went to the bathroom, watching through the crack of the door, waiting. Orm finally came out of the bedroom, saw the cookies and approached. He grabbed one and went to go back into the bedroom when she was suddenly blocking his way.

“Not so face Ormy, sit down,” she said, voice firm. Orm glared, looking for another escape, but every time he moved, she was able to keep up, blocking his path. God damn this bracelet. He needed his speed. Finally, he let out a resound grunt and sat at the table. He took another cookie to make him less annoyed. “Now, how about you stop being such a little…bitch…sorry, I can’t think of a better word, and start trying to make the best of this situation?” Orm stared at her. Not many people talked to him like this, were honest about his behavior. Arthur was the only one who normally called him out.

“Listen here…” he started, ready to release all his anger on her at once. However, she took a cookie and stuffed it in his mouth. He gagged, spitting it out and looking at her, too shocked to speak.

“No, I talk, you listen,” she said. He opened his mouth and closed it again, still not sure how to recover from her audacity. “Orm, we are stuck like this. Now I know you think you are just a ray of sunshine, and you can do no wrong and this is all so unfair, blah blah blah, and it is, BUT we have no choice right now. Someone is targeting you, trying to draw you out, trying to set you up, whatever you want to say. And Arthur is trying to protect you because he loves you, you are his little brother and despite how much of a dick you can be, he loves you and wants you safe. Right now, I am it. I will keep you safe. I will know where you are and I give you a place no one can find, so please, I am begging you, let’s try to make the best of it?” she finished. She sat back, taking a cookie for herself. Orm stared and looked down. She was right, he was being protected by Arthur even though he really didn’t deserve it. Arthur can say all he wanted that Orm had redeemed himself, but he hadn’t. He knew people had died because of him and he hadn’t done anything to really set that right on a larger scale. Just because he wasn’t trying to actively murder anyone didn’t mean he had fixed the mess he made before, hadn’t atoned for it. But Arthur hadn’t sent him back to prison, letting him have some time for himself and he was taking a chance on him, giving him more protection here. And YN was letting him invade her life, doing literally everything he needed and wanted, and he was acting like a selfish jerk. He sighed.

“I am sorry,” he said finally. “You’re right, I’ve been here pouting like a spoilt child. I’m serious this time, I will be better, treat you and this situation better.” YN smiled and Orm felt his heart warm. She really was great. So kind, and if he let her maybe they could be friends.

“Alright, well, if you’re ready to chill then maybe we can go out and I can show you some cool stuff about the surface world,” she said, trying to make a peace offering. Orm nodded.

“Sure, why not,” he said. YN smiled bigger and jumped up, seeming to bounce to the bedroom.

“Let me get ready,” she said. Orm waited while she changed and then switched places to match her level of dress. She wore leggings and a sweater dress so he put on his nicest jeans and a button down that Arthur had said he should have in case he wanted to go on a date and ‘seal the deal’. Orm had no idea what that meant but this felt like a date, maybe not romantic, but at least a friend date. Sure, we could go with that.

YN knew she wanted to do something casual with Orm, work him into the fun of the surface gently. She picked a movie followed by a diner. The movie was something with adventure and comedy, something hopefully safe that they both could enjoy. Orm seemed confused on what they were doing.

“We’re sitting here waiting for a show?” he asked, sitting in the padded seat next to her. She nodded.

“Yes, its kind of like a big TV,” she explained. He nodded, but still looked confused.

“Then why would someone pay for this? Couldn’t this be enjoyed at home?” he asked. YN felt a little thrill of pleasure when he called her place ‘home’ at least he was getting used to the place.

“It depends, some people would agree with you and that’s fine, and then some people just love the movies. Love how big it is, how all encompassing,” she explained. Orm smiled. She was in the latter group of people, movies were magic to her. The lights were dimming so he sat back and let himself get emersed in the experience, try to understand what she loved about it.

Orm loved the movie. Loved how close it felt, the sound, the lights, everything. He left the theater asking YN questions about how movies even happened. She answered his questions as best could, laughing when he tried to tell a joke. It was bad, but he tried and she seemed to like it. They were walking down the crowded street to their next destination, the diner, and she took his hand so they wouldn’t get separated. He didn’t let go even when they entered the diner and were seated. He sat there at the table still holding her hand and she didn’t seem to mind.

“Alright, I understand the pull of the movies, but this?” he asked, motioning around the diner. It was a little shabby, tears in the cheap vinyl of some of the stools by the counter, the lighting flickering the far corner. She just looked around and smiled.

“Just wait for the food, not everything that is good looks beautiful on the outside. Just like things that look beautiful can be bad,” she said. Orm eyed her.

“Is that a thinly veiled reference to me?” he asked. She didn’t look at him, instead glancing at the tableside jukebox that she explained played music. “Which am I? Am I the ugly one? I better not be the ugly one.”

“You’re not ugly,” she said softly, choosing a song to play. The gentle melody poured from the speakers and Orm liked it. “You’re beautiful, inside and out, when you’re not being a grumpy gus.”

#orm marius #king orm #ormmarius #orm marius x reader #king orm x reader #kingorm #ormmariusxreader #kingormxreader #ormseries5

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thewritetofreespeech · 1 year

Note

Could I request Rei Suwa with a baker reader?

Rei Suwa + Baker reader

Rei never dreamt. When he went to bed in his bathtub, and shut his eyes, that was it. His mind never wandered. He never suddenly found himself in a field or surrounded by pink elephants & unicorns. He just slept.

So when he suddenly smelled the scent of muffins, he knew it couldn’t be a dream and immediately got up.

“What are you doing?”

“Ssssh!” [Y/N] hissed with their finger to their mouth. “You’ll wake Miri.”

Rei gave a grunt, then a big yawn, before running his fingers through the hopeless mop of hair and sat at the kitchen counter. He doesn’t even bother to ask what they’re doing in his house at 4:00 in the morning, or how they got in here. In their lines of work it was sometimes best not to ask. “She won’t wake up.”

“You never know.” They replied. Pulling out a fresh batch of muffins. “Miri asked for them. We were watching anime and there was this bakery with big fluffy muffins in the window. She said she’d never had them before and wanted to try them. I thought I’d surprise her for breakfast. And give Kazuki a break.”

Rei grunted again. He vaguely remembers this conversation. “I’ve never had a muffin either.” He realized out loud.

[Y/N] stopped what they were doing and looked at him for a moment, before they smiled. “You want one? You can be my official taste tester.” They gave him a wink, which made Rei slump his shoulders further and his stomach feel a little funny.

“I made cinnamon sugar, lemon poppy seed, chocolate chip, and of course blueberry.”

“Why did you make so many?” He asked, looking over each plate of muffins as they pointed out the flavors.

“Yeah, I guess I went a little overboard.” [Y/N] agreed with a nervous laugh. “But, I wanted to make sure Miri got a flavor she liked. I realized I never asked her what see wanted. Which I guess is a little selfish. I just barreled ahead because I liked baking, and that this was something I could give her.”

Rei listened and could sympathize with that. He tired, he really did; even if no one believed him. But he doesn’t know what kids like or want, or how they act, because he was never one. It was why he encouraged Miri to play videogames with him. It was one of the few ways he was sure they could bond.

“I’m sure she’ll like them. No matter which flavor you make.” He replied. Reaching for a chocolate chip muffin. “You could have made these out of cardboard and she would be happy. Miri’s good like that.” He took off the paper, and then took a big bite. His eyes lighting up. It was sweet, and fluffy, and still warm from the oven. He’d never had a muffin, but if he had he was sure this would have been the best one he ever had. “It’s good.”

[Y/N] beamed and gave an excited head tilt. “Yes! I’m glad you like them.” They then looked at the clock and went over to the other counter. “I’m gonna make some coffee, since Kazuki will be up soon. Do you want any? Double cream, two sugars?”

Rei nodded as he shoved the rest of the muffin in his mouth and reached for another. “Don’t eat them all before Miri gets up! If you do I’ll have to make more!”

‘Wouldn’t that be a shame’ He thought, but limited himself to just the two for now as not to ruin this present for Miri.

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#rei suwa #rei suwa x reader #buddy daddies scenarios #buddy daddies #buddy daddies imagine #unasaka miri #rei x reader #rei suwa scenarios #rei suwa imagine

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fruitcoops · 6 months

Note

If you wanted to write grumpy logan and finn/leo lovingly making fun of him until logan is no longer grumpy, you would do it so well and I would love it

Fic O'Ween Day 7: Pumpkin Spice, for the Cubs :) Kudos and thanks to @noots-fic-fests and @lumosinlove for fest details and characters!

“You’re so cute when you’re grumpy,” Leo hummed, nuzzling into the soft fluff of curls above Logan’s ear. A wordless grumble answered him and he smiled. “Like a kitten, getting all puffed up.”

“—fucking—taxes, mon dieu—”

Cranky French interspersed the muttered undercurrent. Leo wasn’t worried; Logan got loud and direct when he was angry. This was nothing more than the usual fussiness. “I made muffins.”

“—witchcraft fuckery—”

“With cranberries,” he coaxed.

Logan aggressively scribbled out a line on his notepad, but Leo felt him lean closer.

“You’ve been here for two hours, cher.”

He pressed a flat palm between Logan’s shoulders, rubbing gently over the tight muscle and warm skin beneath his shirt. It was one of Finn’s, he thought—a faded thing from the Strand in the pretty red that made his eyes pop. It might have been a gift from some point in their college years, but that was unlikely. Logan had always preferred petty theft from their closets to actually owning anything he liked.

Logan groaned under his breath and pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I’m going to commit felonies against the IRS.”

“Very American of you.”

“Get out of my apartment.”

“It was my apartment first,” Leo smiled into his temple, and sealed it with a kiss. “C’mon. Muffin time. You’re hangry.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t do your own taxes.”

“I can. It’s just that I have a boyfriend who offers to do them for me.”

Logan snorted. “Do you?”

“Mhmm.” He wrapped his arms around Logan from behind, bending slightly. “He’s real smart, too. Capable. Knows how to do math.”

“What a dreamboat,” Logan deadpanned.

“Yeah, you got it.” He was still tense in Leo’s hold, but it softened when Leo pulled his hat off and kissed the top of his head. “I have a thing for nerds.”

“Boo. Go away, I need to finish this.”

“You’re sure you don’t want a muffin? They’re still warm.”

“Not hungry.”

Liar, liar. “Alright. More for me, then.” He nipped the shell of Logan’s ear. “I’ll tell Harzy he’s got free reign.”

“Fine, whatever.”

Leo rolled his eyes and hoped Logan felt it. “Taxes aren’t due until April, baby.”

Logan’s pen gave a prompt clack. “Ouais, and if I put it off until then, you won’t see me for four days. Let me drown in my spreadsheets, please.”

“Whatever makes you happy.”

Logan grumbled something like never makes me happy, but if he wanted to continue making himself miserable, Leo couldn’t really stop him. He had already offered muffins; what more could he do?

He had only partially been telling the truth, anyway. One batch of the muffins was done. It was just that he tended to get excited when fall hit, and ravenous when hockey season started, and every recipe spontaneously doubled in his hands like a cornucopian miracle. Some people kept special daylight lamps around. Leo had a five-pound bag of Craisins and a free afternoon to go absolutely ham with the last bit of sunlight energy he could throttle from October. They all had their own methods of dealing with it.

He only burnt his fingertips a little while prying a muffin from the tin and popping it into his mouth in one bite, and considered that a win.

An hour passed without much change. Leo measured, Logan worked. Leo mixed, Logan groused. Leo doled out batter to (perfectly-lined) muffin tins, Logan scribbled away at his notepad and beat Google Calendar into submission. Finally, as the third tray went in, Leo watched him stand with a groan worthy of an octogenarian and wander stiffly down their short hallway. He smiled to himself and set the oven timer. The work would be done soon enough. If he popped a show on and got comfortable on the couch, he might even be able to tempt Logan away from his numbers into a pre-dinner snuggle.

Whistling echoed from the hall outside, followed by the jingle of keys. Finn was already kicking his shoes off when the door opened, clicking his tongue to the rhythm of whatever played in his earbuds. His face brightened when he saw Leo. “Sup, Butter?”

“Heads up.” A muffin sailed through the air and Finn caught it, barely. “Tremzy’s cheating on me.”

“Wh—” Finn gave a hard blink and glanced over his shoulder. “Is this—I’m going to walk out and come back in again. Wrong apartment. Sorry, cheating? Logan Tremblay? Are we talking about the same person? If you’re talking about me, I’ve made sure that joke is overdone.”

“Her name is Microsoft Excel, and she’s got to be stopped.”

“Oh.” Finn’s bafflement became a regretful nod as he joined Leo by the sink. “His first love. I see the problem.”

“He turned down muffins.”

“Damn, this guy sounds lame. Need a new boyfriend?”

Leo kissed his sideways grin and flipped the water on. “Not currently looking to fill that position, but I’ll keep you at the top of my list.”

Finn’s arms folded around his waist and gave a gentle squish. “You should let me do that, babe.”

“Just rinsing.”

“Hmm.” He felt a kiss through his shirt. “Been cooking all day?”

“Mostly. Reg called this morning and I’m going out with Bliz and Cole at five.”

“What, I’m not invited?” Finn asked with false offense.

“Goalies only,” Leo said with even falser sympathy.

“Reyes isn’t a goalie.”

“Well, we like him better.”

Finn’s indignant noise was stifled by a mouthful of muffin and Leo laughed, jumping at the light pinch to his hip where his shirt rode up. He let Finn shoo him away from the sink with a dishtowel and waited by the counter instead to admire the way he shoved his sweater sleeves up to his elbows.

The bathroom door opened and Leo watched Logan make his way back to the table, all grimaces and stretches, with a final jaw-cracking yawn as he fell into his chair again. The neckline of his shirt was damp, like he had washed his face. He took no notice of the sneakers by the door or Finn at the sink.

“Hey, Lo,” Leo called. “Gotcha something.”

“An accountant?”

Like you’d let anyone else handle this. “A treat.”

“Thought you made muffins.”

Leo caught Finn’s smile out of the corner of his eye and shut the faucet off, passing him the towel. “Nope, different treat.”

“What is it?”

“Guess.”

“Uh…” Logan trailed off, tapping his pen against the notepad. “I don’t know, what?”

“C’mon, humor me.”

“Give me a hint.”

Leo bit his lip against a smile and hooked his finger in Finn’s waistband, guiding him away from the sink. “Pumpkin spice.”

Finn had to turn his face into his shoulder to muffle a snort. Leo pressed three fingers over Finn’s lips, not that it would do much. Ahead of them, Logan’s shoulders relaxed. “You got me coffee? That’s nice of you.”

“Try again.”

“What—uh, bread. Pumpkin bread.”

“Sweeter.”

“Cake?”

“Sweeter.”

“…doughnuts?”

“You like it more than doughnuts.”

“Is it…like, Halloween candy, or something?” Logan sat back from the table and lifted his arms to adjust his hat; Leo caught Finn around the waist and hefted him off his feet, then plopped him with great ceremony into Logan’s waiting lap.

“Oh, hi there,” Finn laughed.

“Coucou.” Logan’s eyes crinkled with the force of his smile and he ducked his laughter into Finn’s neck. “Pumpkin spice, eh?”

“Apparently.” Finn shuffled into a more upright position and slung his arm across Logan’s shoulders, toying lightly with his mussed curls. “A little birdie told me you’ve been up to no good. Taxes, scowling, refusal of muffins.”

Logan’s cheeks darkened with a blush. He cast Leo a guilty look. “Sorry.”

“There’s a heavy punishment for neglecting baked goods,” Finn informed him. “We have to take you into custard-y.”

“Get off me.”

“And you have to pay a fine of a hundred kisses before five o’clock.”

Logan’s eyebrows rose with interest—his loose hold around Finn’s waist tightened. “Stay on me. Quoi?”

“This is serious business, Mr. Tremblay.”

“Who gets this payment?”

“Well, it’s a half-and-half deal.” Leo didn’t know how Finn kept his face so solemn. “Half to the lawyer—me, obviously—and half to the baker who was so cruelly slighted in this afternoon’s incident.”

“Do I have to pony up all at once, or can I make…” Logan nudged up against Finn’s cheek, a dimple just barely forming. “…a down payment?”

“I’m sure something can be arranged.”

“Hmm.” Their kiss was soft enough to make Leo’s breath stutter in his chest—just a whisper over Finn’s bottom lip that had him chasing more. Logan bumped their noses together. “Spicy.”

Finn all but melted into his chest. “You know it.”

Jade eyes darted over and fixed Leo in place. Logan cast a quick up-and-down look over him, then propped his chin on Finn’s shoulder and gave a small, close-lipped smile. “That baker better get over here so I can give him a piece of my mind.”

The countertop was oven-warm when Leo leaned back. “How much are we giving to charity?”

Logan blinked. “Seventeen percent.”

“What’s seventeen percent of fifty?”

“Eight and a half.”

Leo stepped forward and braced his hands on the back of the chair, bracketing Logan’s head. “Tip your local bakeries, Tremblay. You owe me fifty-eight and a half kisses.”

Confusion blossomed into the kind of smile Leo lived for. “Let’s call it an even twenty percent. I’m feeling generous.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

#leo knut #logan tremblay #finn ohara #cubs #oknutzy #coast to coast #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #fluff #pumpkin spice #fic o’ween 2023

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anemonelovesfiction · 7 months

Text

Kinktober 4- Choking/ Spanking

Avatar! Jake Sully x Human! Fem Reader

Warnings ⚠️: Smut bro. MDNI or I’ll block you.

So there is a special someone I wanted to dedicate this for getting her blog back! I hope you can read and enjoy on your own time My Love 🌙 ❤️ @pandoraslxna

Sul’Eyanos is not something that is in Na’Vi vocabulary but something I had actually come up with… it means the binding of three souls, aka three soulmates. I did it when I was writing a shifting script for myself to be in a relationship with both Jake and Neytiri because I couldn’t break them up 🫣

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Word count: 6k words (sorry I got carried away but I included both choking AND spankies 🤭)

One of the strangest things about being on Pandora, was the fact that I had been born amongst them as a total surprise, sure my parents knew they were expecting, but I was an accident. We lived in an already confined space, but I’d always been a good listener, making sure I appeased my parents and wasn’t much of a nuisance, taking interest in what they called ‘work’ and going along with it. I found myself sticking beside Max’s side, which is how I knew that there was a new batch of scientists arriving, I was thirteen around the time that Jake and Norm had arrived on the planet.

I’d felt drawn to the ex-marine, for some reason, stunning half the staff when I’d bothered making an effort into saying hello to him, his smile spreading on his lips as I seemed to talk to him normally, not bending down or in his face. I was often shy in nature and never bothered speaking unless spoken to and that had been out of character for me.

I had been very close with my mother, but she had developed cancer in her brain, dying about three weeks prior to the next batch’s arrival, so I’d mostly been with my dad -who already buried himself in his work to forget about mom- and Max, who’d claimed he’d seen me reading a lot of medical books, taking me under his wing and teaching me everything he knew. Although Max was a scientist, he doubled as a Doctor for the humans, and somewhat of a medic for the Avatar’s as well. Since he’d taken me under his wing I’d been joined at the hip, essentially becoming a Doctor alongside him without the official title.

There had been very few things I had done on purpose within those three months since Jake’s arrival. One of them having been conspiring with Max and Trudy on how to sneak the trio out of the jail cell they were being held in, Max telling me he had to go with them and entrusted the care of the other humans and Avatars to me- a thirteen year old with no medical degree, taking care of adults- one of them having just given birth about three days ago.

Another thing I’d done on purpose was making sure that the other scientists hadn’t caught on that I had been without Max and attempted to make it seem like everything had been alright, until Paz had bumped into me and asked where Max was since she claimed she needed to be given a green pass to start working again, it had been about ten minutes since we had broken the others from their cell and my heart was beating erratically at the woman before me. She cut her losses with me and struggled to keep a steady gait while attempting to stomp away, knowing I had to place a couple of stitches on her tears after her son’s delivery.

Max appears not even a second later telling me Jake needed us to stay on the inside and be his lookouts in case any other thing happened. Another thing I had blindly agreed to and purposely done, I was a kid, I’d do anything for the people I’d grown to call my friends, even though I knew thats not how the real world worked.

But one of the things I hadn’t done on purpose was the crush that developed from having found it easy to talk to the ex-marine, I felt like an idiot for feeling as if I had been getting any kind of special treatment from him. Even when he’d always take the time to show me the pretty flowers that grew in the forest whenever he’d managed to sneak me out alongside Grace. Pointing out the many different kinds that grew in clusters while Grace and Norm took samples a couple miles away from hells gate and still very far from the Omatikaya. During the small period between him getting accepted as one of the people and before the war.

I did find him attractive in either form, but I should have known better than to let that shit stay in my head, knowing that there was no way he would feel the same for a thirteen year old. And I was proven right when I’d overheard him talking to Norm and Max at one point and stating that Neytiri was pregnant. I’d obviously had to congratulate him alongside the other men and I did feel happy to know he had finally seemed to have found his purpose, but I had cried so much that night. Taking it upon myself to follow in my fathers footsteps and drowning myself in my work and slowly detaching any kind of relationship I had developed with him, barely speaking to Norm unless it involved work, and not needing Max to hover over my shoulder anymore.

But that was fifteen years ago, I’m twenty-eight now, the same age Jake was when he’d given up his human life and permanently passed through the eye of Eywa, truly becoming a Na’vi and having woke up in his blue body, burying the body he’d once inhabited. I could feel a pull toward him any time I’d see him come in through hells gate but always pulled myself away from any room he had entered or pretended to act busy, I didn’t need to put myself through the same depressed puppy love I had when I was younger.

“Hey there stranger.”

My head snaps up at the sudden familiar baritone voice I’d taken to avoid any time I could, removing the one earbud that had been in my ear as I took my late night leisurely walk to give myself a break before diving my head back into my books, back already stiff as I turn around slowly, praying it was just my imagination. I just stupidly stared up at him.

“After all this time and you’re still quiet, huh?” He lowers his body as he squats on his toes and meets my height, I take a step back to give him his personal space so he doesn’t feel like I was invading it and he eyes me warily.

“Do I smell?” He jokes with a glimmer in his eyes and a half smile, showing his pointed canines, thats right, I have to act like I’m not losing my shit or going to embarrass myself.

“Sorry, just a bit tired. Was there something I could do for you?” I asked and watch him lift a brow and eye me warily.

“C’mon, kid, you treat me like you don’t know me.” Another playful smile but I internally grimace at the nickname, Kid, thats all he’d ever see me as and I thin my lips without meaning to and nod my head a big and turn to place the earbud on the stack of books I’d come back with.

“Life has changed the both of us, I knew you a long time ago and you have changed, you may as well be a stranger to me.” I shrug lightly but force a smile to imply that I had been joking. “What brings you in, shouldn’t you be off doing Olo’eyktan duties?” I attempt to redeem myself by adding the bit of sass I used to have for him, but I could tell by the flash in his eyes he knew I was putting on an act.

“I wanna show you somethin’.” He tilts his head back as if also asking me to go with him somewhere and I knew I had to decline. I was practically in love with a man I met as a child even though I knew he had been married and he had children, I knew nothing would happen if I decided to oblige and head out with him, but I knew I had to stay here for my own sanity.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.” I stated firmly and felt some pride blossoming through me.

“You have something more interesting going on in here?” He asks simply, taking a glance around the lab as if trying to understand what I had found worthy of my attention at that moment, eyes coming back to meet mine.

“Well it’s not interesting but-“ This had been my first mistake.

“Then lets go.” He urges but remains on his toes and watching me intently.

“It’s my job-“ Second mistake.

“ The humans that stayed don’t work for the RDA and you aren’t your father.” He stated and my face falls at that comment.

When the RDA had arrived with General Frances Ardmore, they had essentially told all of the staff that they could have been arrested for treason, since my father had gone through everything on Earth, they had a file on him as well as every human Scientist and Doctor that remained on this planet. Had they voluntarily come back and assisted the RDA they would be dropped of said charges and receive the full time pay and compensation for ‘doing the right thing’. I’d grown upset at this statement but was reminded by Max and Norm that I had been born on Pandora and no record had ever been kept on me on Earth, they didn’t know of my existence and I was free to choose whatever it was I wanted, so I chose to stay. Unbeknownst to me, my father decided to leave as if everything he’d ever worked for had meant nothing, like abandoning me was the better option, another one of the reasons I buried myself in my work so I wouldn’t be reminded of how easy it was for him to betray the humans and myself.

“It’s still my job to find remedies to cure anyone who gets sick.” My third mistake was to attempt to keep this conversation going and I watch him roll his eyes.

“Who gets sick on Pandora anymore, if anything you could always learn from Mo’at, lets go.” He’d asked nicely before but this sounded more demanding. I hesitantly look back at the stack of books I had brought to read. To be fair, I’d read these books several times and I wasn’t looking forward to reading them again or adding notes onto my notes. My eyes glide over to his before I sigh.

“Fine, where are we going?” I asked him and see his smile grow before standing tall again, extending his comically large hand over toward me, and I take it as he turns and starts walking.

“You won’t need a mask.” He continues walking just a bit further before reaching a closed door in which you needed badge access to get through, but I was never really bothered walking anywhere I didn’t need to be and was pretty sure my badge wouldn’t slide the doors open, but he turns to take it and scans it in, and I watch the doors part, a circular room in front of us encased in glass.

My eyes widen slightly to take in the room, there are floor-to-ceiling windows where the curvature was, noticing most of the mountain we were encased in covering about five foot off the floor, the rest of it uncovered and showing the night sky above, the stars shining beautifully. I had no idea this place existed beyond the doors and hearing the whirr of the mechanics of the door shutting again.

“What is this place?” I asked and felt myself stepping closer to the glass, placing my hands on the window in awe, staring up at the sky and feeling like a little nerd all over again.

“It connected to the old observatory when this building was still a part of Hell’s Gate. Crazy how it fit perfectly in here.” I could see his body come into view from my peripheral and he’s gazing up at the stars, like he’s trying to find one, before smiling and pointing it out, although its hard to tell which one he’s looking at.

“Do you see that pale yellow star off in the distance, it has three blue ones around it.” He specifies and I let my eyes wander and actually manage to see the star he’d been talking about, all three stars shared a different hue of the color but the pale yellow shone brightly against it.

“Yeah?” I ask.

“Thats where I come from.” He stated proudly, almost nostalgically.

“Do you miss it?” I asked while allowing my eyes to stare at the stars in the sky, many of them were white, very few were blue, and only one was that pale yellow color. A small insignificant dot in the sky suddenly bringing on more meaning to my life.

“No, I found my place here.”

“I’m sure you feel accepted here more than you did on Earth.”

“Sure I did, it’s not every day you’re welcomed by the thirteen year old who is said to be shy by every crew member, only to realize she had a crush on the cripple.” He lightly pushes my shoulder, the beautiful expanse of space now being long forgotten as my widened eyes turn to meet his.

“You knew?” I had been too focused on avoiding him after a while and felt that it had been enough distance to make it seem like I’d outgrown him, as if he were a phase in my life I was no longer interested in. Far too invested in his answer to allow myself to blush or feel any shame from it, what he didn’t need to know is that I still felt this way, even now in his blue body.

“It wasn’t hard to decipher.” He shrugs while speaking and I could feel the embarrassment settle as I hunch my shoulders at the ick I could feel crawling up my body.

“I’m sorry.” I stated rather sourly, my eyes finding a deep interest in the floor below me, this was starting to get awkward and I needed to leave, I should have known the night was going to be spoiled by my own feelings.

“I should probably go,” I pointed back over my shoulder and turned pretty quick not bothering to meet his eyes. I was hoping he wasn’t as observant as he had been before and wouldn’t notice that the feeling persisted on my end, the last thing I needed was to be teased about how I’d felt about a mated man, but if he were to see through it, would he see my attempts at staying away from him and the respect I had for Neytiri and his children? Would he see that I willingly avoid him at all costs?

“So she was right.” His voice rings out and snaps me out of my thoughts, his big hand had wrapped around my bicep to stop me from walking further, and my head whipped around to stare at him.

_________

Just when I think I know everything about the Na’Vi and have found my understanding in their culture, there always seems to be something added on to it and more customs I had been unaware of. One of them was the binding of three souls, something Neytiri told me is quite rare, she had been open at explaining that she only taught me the basics while teaching me her ways, but since I had been Olo’eyktan now, I must know of everything in order to properly fulfill my duties.

She explained the binding of the three souls, better known as Sul’Eyanos, is a pull from someone toward an already mated pair, something that is initiated by Eywa when she feels the three are compatible and better off together. She had stated she often found herself checking in on Y/n to see where the younger woman had been and if she didn’t see her anywhere she’d feel sadness. Neytiri could tell that the human was attracted to me from the moment she had met her, mentioned that Y/n had purposely avoided me, but harbored those feelings deep inside.

“Who was right?” Her voice snaps me out of my thoughts and I could tell she’d been embarrassed by the situation, tears weren’t exactly threatening to escape but her eyes had become glossy, and it felt like the puzzle piece had finally snapped into the right place. Without another word I’m quick to pull at her arm to turn her back to face me, release my hold on her, and place my hand on her lower back as I squat on my toes, bringing her even closer and connecting our lips.

I remember when I first kissed Neytiri, I could feel a warmth rapidly spreading through my body, a primal need to face plant her on the forest floor and fuck her had guided me to doing just that, not that she had minded, that same urge surging through my body at this moment. I could feel her tiny hands push against my chest and I’d backed away from her even though I hadn’t wanted to.

“Wait, you’re mated, what are you doing, what would Neytiri think?” I could see the panic settling on her face, her gaze downcast and I knew she’d attempt to slide out of my grasp at any moment.

“Hey, hey, look at me-“ I use my hand as gently as I can to caress her cheek, making her refocus on me, feeling pride at managing to get her to look back up, smiling gently.

“This was her idea.” I admit and watch her shock resurface. “We were given the opportunity to have a third mate, Eywa has chosen you for us, but we don’t want to force it on you.”

The confusion starts changing into hurt as her eyes fill up with tears, some already falling onto her cheeks, I could only watch as she starts to frantically pull herself away from my hold, her small cries reaching my ears and my own chest starting to feel heavy. I did not intend for her to cry and had no idea how to calm her at the moment, but I knew the second she’d get out of my grasp it would be game-over, she’d work overtime in avoiding us and refuse to be near us.

“Babygirl, stop it.” I huffed but she listens, slumping over and letting her tears fall like a river, I sigh and work on swiping them with my thumb. “I know you think this might be a prank or some stupid shit like that, but it’s not.”

“I’ve never wanted anything more in my life, but this is-“

I didn’t bother waiting for her to finish her words and placed my lips over hers once more, one hand on her cheek and the other on the back of her head to hold her steady, but also to prevent her from pulling away this time. Her smaller hands had pressed against my chest and applied pressure to steady herself, never pushing harder to get me off of her, but the primal urge surges through me again and the need to claim her was making my head feel stuffy.

I swipe my tongue over her bottom lip while sliding the hand that had been on her head down toward the back of her neck to cradle it, the hand on her cheek sliding down toward the small of her back to pull her closer.

“Mmph-“ I’m assuming she tried to say something but wasn’t protesting much when I shoved my tongue in her mouth. I could taste the fruit she’d been eating earlier and remember Max saying she had been obsessed with yovo when she was younger, I could tell from the taste she still had been, swiping my tongue over hers and feeling it go limp, allowing me to do whatever I pleased.

I could feel myself pulling her body closer against mine, glad I’d managed to build up my endurance for this pose while tending to my own children, thankful I had the use of my legs again. My ears flicker at the sound she’d made and feel a craving to want to hear it again, tongue and lips disconnecting from hers and quickly kissing along her neck, ensuring my fangs were dragging alongside her skin and hearing her breath come out in short pants.

“Jake~” She whines, the hands that had been on my chest showing my just how much she was enjoying it as her nails dug into my skin.

“I can smell you babygirl, oh fuck, can’t keep myself off you.” I grunt out as my hands were quick to tug on her shirt, silently asking for permission to take it off, catching her open her eyes and nodding frantically, sliding it off and attaching my mouth back on her neck, kissing down her chest.

“Are you sure we should-“

“Yes.” I groan as I felt the weight of her chest in the palms of my hands, looking back up at her angelic face. “We go as far as you want, hmm.” I hummed to catch her attention and she meets my eyes with a nod.

“I want to, but-“

“Then we will.” I stated while simultaneously running my thumbs across her nipples and hearing her gasp lightly, her face turning downward to look at my hands encasing her chest, planting myself on my knee’s and covering her body with mine and placing one of her breast in my mouth, flicking the nipple with my mouth and teasing the other one with my hand. Feeling her tiny hands grab onto my scalp to keep my face cradled in her arms and chest.

“Jake~” She moans lightly as I switch between her breasts, ensuring I plant a kiss between them before placing the other in my mouth, the other one being rolled between my pointer finger and thumb, gently pushing her down on the cold metal floor. A small hiss leaving her lips as her back comes into contact with it.

I’d knelt myself down on the floor, sliding myself between her legs, scooting close enough to have the backs of her thighs meet my shoulders as I got myself settled in, hearing a slight squeak as my hands grab her ass to slightly lift her, resisting my urge to take her at this moment and groaning at her scent.

“You done any of this before?” I asked and see her bite her lip, nervously looking away and nodding her head, feeling relief flood through me, knowing I wouldn’t hurt her and she’d be used to some stretch.

“Good.” I bring my mouth to kiss her exposed thigh, the skirt she’d been wearing wasn’t covering much from this angle, but that was a reward, I had to work my way toward it. My arms had wrapped themselves around them, the tips of my fingers gently squeezing the inner thigh and pulling them apart as I kissed, licked, and nipped at them. Hearing her breath hitch as I got closer, she’d been subtly moving her hips over, hearing a groan of frustration once I switched over to the other thigh and repeating the process.

“For the love of Eywa-“ She huffs and brings her head up and this had been the first time I’d ever seen the fire blazing in her eyes, nipping the skin just right while staring at her, her head falling back down.

“You wanna finish that thought?” I ask as my head feels dizzy from being this close to her clothed cunt and wanting to devour her.

“No-“ She mutters weakly, her head shaking, and eyes closed tightly. I take it upon myself to nuzzle my nose on her clothed cunt, skirt having been thrown on her belly carelessly, eyes closing and a loud groan emitting from my throat as I take the first sniff straight from the source, my cock hardening fully.

“Fuck.” I stated loudly, taking in another sniff, my head feeling dizzy as the logical part of my consciousness was getting muted, my primal urges surfacing as my finger hooks toward the side of her underwear, and swiping it to the side, her scent and leaking cunt making me groan, not bothering to check in with her before my face is shoved into her sweet petals, tongue pulling her lips apart and finally tasting her.

“Fuck-“ Her breathy gasp follows along the slightest thrust of her hips, I squeeze my hold on her thighs slightly tongue starting to work in overdrive for two reasons, to get to taste her deliciousness and to be able to hear her moan.

“Oh fuck!” She gasps while panting, hands finding comfort in my hair and holding on for dear life, the slightest of tugging toward where she wanted me had my logic slipping further, not caring if her thighs were attempting to close around my head and wanting to drown myself in her scent.

“Stop fuckin’ moving, babygirl.” I protested, feeling the cool breeze hitting my face wherever her juices decided to stick, knowing it had ran past my lips, her eyes shooting open and ready to say something. But I slid my finger into her cunt and all that comes out is a choked moan, head falling back to the floor.

“Please, please use another.” She begs silently, eyes slightly open, head lolled to the side just to look at me, my pride swelling since she had refused to lift her head.

“Only because you asked so nicely,” I oblige and place another finger in her warmth hearing her draw in another gasp and broken moan as I did so.

“Talk to me.” I stop all thrusting and keep my fingers buried inside her, my cock straining against my loincloth, but refusing to continue until she tells me if she’d fine or if I’m hurting her.

“Feels like a dick- just your fingers, please move, move now.” She rambles in hushed whispers that I barely catch as the sound of the blood traveling impossibly fast through my body- mostly down South- is roaring loudly in my ears. I slowly work on drawing my fingers back out of her cunt and slide them back in, hearing her first loud moan. Soaking up the sound with my ears turned toward her, wanting to not waste any of this experience.

“You won’t be left unsatisfied again, babygirl, I can promise you that.” I grunt and find myself captivated to pull my wet fingers out of her cunt, her whines rippling through my brain, telling me to get back to work, but I just had to take her clothes off. Tapping her hips with one of my wet fingers and feeling her understand my command right as I settle on my knees, the heels of her feet settling on the floor once more to lift her hips, finally taking off her skirt and underwear in one swoop, her bottom falling back onto the floor beneath her, legs spreading greedily to welcome me back into my spot.

“Hands and knees,” I stated as I untied my loincloth, dick springing upward and she freezes, looking at it as if she’d never seen one before.

“Thats huge.” Her eyes appear widened, mouth slightly open as she stares at it.

“Thought you said you’ve done this before.” I smirk with my teasing tone, some clarity returning back to me.

“With another human- is that going to fit?” I can hear the worry in her voice, and take the time to stroke her cheek again, placing a gentle kiss on her lips, connecting our foreheads.

“I’ll make it fit, babygirl, get in position.”

She nods before placing her knee’s on the floor with her hands bent at an angle, pushing her ass in the air as if presenting herself to me and I groan at the sight, taking the fingers I’d previously shoved in her cunt and do it again, exploring her from the new angle and hearing her moans return louder this time.

“Fuck, you look delicious.” I mutter through my lips as I focus on thrusting my fingers into her sopping cunt and not wanting to fight against my own urges, and finally giving into them.

_________

A stinging sensation spread like wildfire on my bottom, but his fingers continuing their ministrations were driving me wild, a loud moan escaped my lips when another slap is reverberating in the empty room, my cunt instinctively squeezing on his thick fingers. With only two of his fingers in I felt like I was getting fucked, humans must be pretty small in comparison to Na’Vi.

A third slap was done to distract me from the third finger being inserted, the stretch was absolutely welcomed, his thrusts having slowed down a bit to help me accommodate for the extra digit but my hips were starting to meet his thrusts as I pushed myself back onto his hands.

“Your pussy is such a greedy thing, yeah? Rocking back to meet my fingers like the hungry cock-slut you are.” Another slap resonates within the semi-circular room, not bothering to respond verbally as my moans and whimpers were telling him everything he needed to know. He slips his fingers out and I can hear him grunt, turning my head back and biting my lip as I see him rubbing his slick covered hand over his cock, eyes locked with mine.

“You ready?”

“Fuck me.” I mumble under my breath at his cockiness, his lazy smile cut off by a whimper and that catches my attention.

“I will.” Fuck me indeed. He places his left hand on my hip while continuing to stroke himself as he lines up to me.

“I hope I stretched you out enough.” He whispers and I can feel the head of his cock slip in, the sting that I’d only felt when losing my virginity starting up again and I suck in a breath.

“Fuck babygirl, don’t clamp down like that-“ Jake grunts and sneaks the hand covered in my juices snaking around my hip, placing a large finger on my bud, heavily rubbing the nervous tissue and I buck my hips at the feeling, taking more of him in.

“Thats it,” I could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he keeps the same pace, taking the time to slide the head of his cock in and out cautiously, if I could think without my horny brain I’d be bursting at the seams at his realization and quick thinking.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, such a good girl for me, huh?” He asks rhetorically.

“Yes~” I moan out and slide myself further down his shaft, taking in the pleasure of him paying attention to my sensitive clit once more, feeling used to the head and craving more, but he was right about one thing, I don’t think I’d be unsatisfied anymore.

“You should see what I see,” His hand abandons my clit and another slap, this time a wet spot left from his fingers cooling down the stinging cheek right as he draws himself out and shoves himself all the way in, the breath getting knocked out of my lungs at that moment.

“Move, move, move, move, move-“ I chant toward him, needing to feel that friction again, not caring if the slightest sting was there, wanting to feel the way his head and shaft glide in so smoothly that it sets all my nerves on fire, another wet smack on my ass as he obliges, repeating the movement.

“Jake, please, again-“ I pant as I say those words and feel another smack on the opposite cheek, releasing a frustrated moan as he stays still, I can feel his arms leave my hips and I whine at the loss, a thud implying they’d been placed in front of me due to his size.

“Hush ya’ mouth, kid,” He comments in my ear, straining his voice as he attempts to thrust slowly, dropping some of the weight of his chest into my back to prevent me from moving my hips back.

“I don’t wanna hold back, please, just go at your pace, I don’t care, please.” I moan between words, I didn’t care if I couldn’t walk from the mind blowing dick he was giving me, I just needed to come.

“Shut up, babygirl.”

I feel a hand circle around my neck from his position, his thumb and fingers squeezing gently at my neck as he says that and I could feel a flutter in my pussy, heat pooling down my lower belly, and I felt a deep desire to be filled with his come.

“You like being choked hmm I can feel your sweet cunt squeezing my cock.” His voice is driven my lust that I didn’t think this was the same man talking to me earlier. “I’ve wanted to take care of this sweet pussy for a while now, watch it swallow my cock, hear you beg for it.” Jake pauses and I felt the orgasm that had been approaching stop with his movement.

“Beg.”

“Please let me come, I was so close, please-“

“Mm, you could do better than that, you did so good for your colleague last week, do I need to repeat the words you told him?”

I could feel my pussy drench in juices as he stated that. I’d heard the sound of someone closing the door right after I’d almost reached an orgasm with Jensen but he told me I was just imagining everything- of course right after he’d gotten to come and left me high and dry- I had to finish myself off in my room, I wonder if he-

“Shame you had to finish yourself off, but that won’t happen again, just beg.”

“In the-“ I pant as I feel the heat on my face “-nicest way possible, I don’t wanna walk after.” I stated with a gasp as he picks up his speed.

“S’what I fuckin’ thought.” He mutters in my ear and squeezes the sides of my neck once more, I believed he’d already been going as fast as possible, only to feel him lift me from my neck as he settled myself on his knees, making sure my thighs were spread over his knee’s, still squeezing my neck.

The shock of him lifting me, settling me on his lap, and thrusting his hips at lightning speed had my orgasm approaching faster than it had been when he was moving at a turtles pace. I could feel my thighs shaking at the feel of the head of his dick rubbing every spot inside I had no idea existed. My feet hadn’t exactly been touching the ground, but I could feel them ghosting over the floor with every thrust, the idea of being manhandled like this turned me on so much.

“Jake, I’m coming, I’m-“ I didn’t have time to finish the sentence as he squeezes the side of my neck and reaches over his other hand to rub my clit, speeding the process along nicely and making my orgasm crash over me.

The words he’d been saying were incoherent at the time, but I did feel warmth, everywhere. He’d wrapped his hands around my chest, the other on my hip to keep me steady, and another type of stretch was filling my pussy, his cock buried deep in me as he comes inside, most of it being dumped out due to it’s limited space.

“Holy fucking shit.” I stated tiredly, thighs still shaking as I manage to slowly bring myself out of my orgasmic mind-fuck. Mind suddenly reeling back and realizing what we’d done. “Holy fucking shit-“ I repeated in a different tone.

“You are ours, babygirl, you don’t need to freak out. It was her idea, remember?” He stated while kissing my temple and I could feel my heart rate picking up.

“I’m still scared to face her now. I fucked her husband.”

“She is also your wife.”

“But does she want to be-“

“Would I be here getting you off if she didn’t want to?”

#avatar #avatar smut #afab reader #human reader #lunaskinktober2023 #JakeSully #jake sully x reader

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