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icryyoumercy · 10 months

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... i feel like the easiest solution to the whole ~but migrants keep coming here with nothing and then expecting us to feed and clothe them~ thing and whining about the cost to the coast guard of trying to find the boats they arrive on would be

offer free shipping? station a number of reasonably big ships near or at where migrant ships usually leave from, kind of a schoolbus version of a passenger ship, nothing luxurious or pretty, but staffed and equipped to transport as many people as possible in safety and dignity while being as cheap and low-maintenance as can be. and then get barracks set up as close by as possible, where people can stay until the ship sets sail, with the same low-cost, low-effort setup

and then anyone who wants to cross the mediteranean, instead of having to pay exorbitant amounts of money to some shady entity for a space on an overloaded ship, can just. report to the official coast guard ship, which will make the trip the same time every week, and if they missed it, they can get a bunk in the nearby barracks and wait for the next one

and then! everyone who shows up can get basic medical treatment and at least temporary papers if they haven't any, and there can be co-ordination with the european ports, so everyone knows when and where the next ship will arrive, how many people are on board, what immediate assistance they will need, and any other relevant information

hell, if there's something stressful or expensive or otherwise troublesome at one port, they can contact the coast guard and go 'yeah, we said we'd accept the next ship, but there's been [thing] and we're overwhelmed as-is, but the next port over is set up for your arrival', and then no one needs to deal with the unexpected arrival of several hundred injured, ill, or starving people that need immediate help in a million ways

just. we know migrants will cross the mediteranean. it's a thing they've been doing for decades at this point. we also know it's a source of stress and trouble for everyone involved. might as well accept it and make it as safe and controlled as possible, reduce the amount of emergency something-or-other to react to and ensure that the people who arrive are fed and clothed and ideally can actually migrate with their families instead of having to figure out who they can afford to pay the fare for and make their situation even worse

#a grievance against society #also no charging anyone for staying at those barracks #and no fares for the ships #and if anyone goes 'but what about wealthy people wanting to travel for free'#if they're prepared to spend several days in cramped and uncomfortable spaces #with a ton of strangers #just to save a bit of money #they should absolutely be allowed to do that #hell if you set it up like this #there might even be an option of setting this up near an airport #and if someone has been separated from their family #or needs medical treatment that goes beyond the bare minimum #they can make a deal with the airlines #to fill up empty seats on the planes #not ideal to transport hundreds of people i don't think #but every now and again helpful for getting a child and parent re-united #or making sure someone can recover from surgery in a place where they can build a future #instead of somewhere they have to be terrified their past will catch up #we should just apply harm reduction principles more often #if people keep doing a thing even though it's dangerous and expensive and difficult #instead of making the thing more so in hopes of stopping them #we should maybe make it as safe and easy and accessible as possible #and only when people aren't getting killed in absolutely foreseen and avoidable ways #we can try to find and address the root cause of their actions #but first we need to not needlessly hurt or kill peopl #also yes that means all european nations need to help finance this project #it helps the non-mediteranean states too!#and it's the right and proper thing to do

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anonforlackofabettername · 2 years

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I think I’ve figured out why Hob/Dream bothers me beyond the “I don’t get it/are we watching the same show” I get with a lot of ships on tumblr and why i’m struggling to just “ship and let ship” like I normally do. Tumblr really took a show bursting with queer diversity and love, looked at one of the only queer platonic relationships we get on screen, and said they desire each other sexually. I don’t think as an aroace person I need to explain why it’s frustrating to see a nonsexual queer platonic friendship interpreted as they obviously desire each other romantically and carnally but with tumblr’s reading comprehension sometimes maybe I do.

#talking into the void #making this unrebloggable cause I’m not here to start discourse #just simply having a thought aloud #i usually try very hard to not be judgy when it comes to what people ship #this one has been twinging and I finally figured out why #they’ve had several hundred years and we’ve met former lovers of Dream #if he wanted to fuck hob he would have #and if you’ve read the comics you know why that’s a bad idea

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orcelito · 2 years

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haha sometimes ur on a flying ship for a fancy dinner with all these important people and ur getting an Examination (???????) from this scientist lady who noticed how Weird you are during the dinner. clothes off but LEAST sexy fucking experience ever.

but while this is happening ur spider climbing vampire friend went poking around the bottom of the ship & found a cool bead and decided to BREAK. IT. oh whoa what do you know it’s a FIREBALL. THAT EXPLODES THE BOTTOM OF THE SHIP. KNOCKS HER OFF (OUR ONLY HEALER!!!! PROBABLY DEAD!!!!!!!) & BLOWS A BIG HOLE IN THE SHIP.

so everything is Panic & we leave our rooms & find the fiance of our wizard poisoned on the ground, not dead but we have no idea what’s going on, our healer is missing, the ship’s medic is MURDERED, & the wizard is on the top deck with the captain and OH LOOK the big lion guy starts attacking the captain & almost killing her then and there.

some running around later, I go up to the top, cast charm person on the guy, SUCCEED IN CHARMING HIM, but our rogue is pissed & throws a knife at him, which I intercept (taking 9 damage, which isnt Nothing considering how squishy I am) so the charm doesnt break. me trying to push the dude back, trying to Talk the situation down, since a fight is NOT gonna end well for us,

and then. the monk. was given a teleport ring. which she activates. & it lets her send 8 people to a place of her choice - which she chose the Peach Pit, aka where Fang works and lives.

Fang, the paladin, the princess, the rogue, the wizard, the wizard’s fiance, the captain, and the monk’s friend. NOTABLY not the monk herself, nor the rogue’s friend.

teleportation is Fucky. a few get there no problem, a few of us take damage (another 12, which is NOT. NOTHING...) then show up where we were meant to go. i get teleported across the fucking MAP but at least im alive and im going running to the Peach Pit cause that’s where my SHIT IS. so naturally im gonna meet up with them at some point. captain got Knocked Out then teleported Somewhere. we just gotta hope some good samaritan finds her and helps her bc we sure as fuck have no idea where she is.

somehow my charm is still up! so MAYBE the people on the ship will have a chance at talking down the situation. who knows!

BUT. wizard is Pissed at the rogue for almost messing up the charm, pulls his sword on her. rogue is confused and pissed and Scared bc her friend isnt there & now there’s a sword being pulled so she’s pulling her daggers. im ACROSS THE FUCKING MAP, & the only other ppl on-site are the Paladin, the princess, & the passed out fiance (who’s essentially just a civilian).

yeah. Yeah. uh. this sure is Something lmfao.

#speculation nation #d&d #we started an hour early and played for almost an hour late so a usual 3 hour dnd was almost 5 hours today #and WOWZA. ALLLLLLLLL of this happened in that last hour #aka why we all just kept playing instead of ending bc we were all like Holy Fucking Shit #im hoping this ship has some safety fucking shit for crash landings bc while im off the ship (good!) a lot of people arent (bad!)#Fang is in major Problem Solving Mode aka trying to fix the shit asap #be helpful as soon as possible as quickly as possible bc if there's something he can do he Needs To Do It #not really much i can do about the fallen healer.............. if i was THERE . i have my immovable rod #which was like. my safety line ngl lol & why i was not immediately panicking about us falling #bc at the VERY least. Fang could keep himself from going splat using the rod off and on #might dislocate his shoulder or smth but still far better than falling hundreds of feet #just . wow. that was. a fucking Lot #and. and!!!!!!!!! we are going on hiatus lmfaooo bc one of our players is getting surgery . for transition reasons .#QUITE. THE FUCKING CLIFFHANGER. FOR SEVERAL WEEKS A T L E A S T #wowza lmfao. lots and lots and lots #thinking back on my awkward Examined By The Scientist In The Least Sexy Way Possible. simpler times.................#sorry this post is so giant but SO. MUCH. HAPPENED. holy shit lmfao

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ne-umeyu-tancevat · 4 months

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getting into fountain pens has only curbed my desire to buy writing instruments very slightly, at the expense of desiring pricier and pricier writing instruments

#a lot of the really popular expensive ones going into the several hundred dollars territory look way too corpo businessman for me #but ive been salivating over the benu briolette in storm for months now its so beautifullll #but if i want it in a fine nib looks like ill have to order it in directly from yerevan armenia #and at that point i may as well get the pen holder too goddamn it and thatll run me over $200 with shipping #fountain pens #i did recently get a cute one with a big acrylic rabbit head shape at the end of it for like $6 at yoyoso?#its really good actually but not my style for carrying yk

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decolonize-the-left · 3 months

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Countries and international agencies denounce an attack by Israeli tanks that killed several people at an UN-run training centre housing thousands of displaced people in Khan Younis.

Palestine Red Crescent Society reports Israeli forces have imposed a “complete curfew” around Al-Amal Hospital as Israel continues its assault on Khan Younis.

White House negotiator visits Qatar as part of a US push to secure another deal to release Israeli captives as Washington continues to oppose a ceasefire in Gaza.

International Court of Justice (ICJ) will issue a decision on Friday in South Africa’s case against Israel over alleged genocide in Gaza.

At least 25,700 people have been killed and 63,740 wounded in Israeli attacks on Gaza since October 7. The death toll in Israel from the October 7 Hamas attacks stands at 1,139.

“Ordering trapped people to evacuate and bombing them before they can even do so is callous,” says UN humanitarian chief Martin Griffiths as Israel orders hundreds of thousands of Palestinians to leave Khan Younis in southern Gaza.

The Palestinian Red Crescent Society (PRCS) says Israeli forces are besieging its headquarters and El Amal Hospital in Khan Younis and imposing a curfew in the area.

UNRWA chief Philippe Lazzarini says attack on UNRWA’s Khan Younis vocational training centre shelter shows “blatant disregard” for rules of war.

“The protected nature of UN facilities must be respected,” says US State Department deputy spokesman Vedant Patel in relation to the attack.

A US Navy ship shot down two Houthi missiles launched at a US-flagged container ship in the Red Sea, says US Central Command.

#Aljazeera #free Palestine #free gaza #Palestine #Gaza #news #current events #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #Israel #khan younis #red crescent society

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villainessbian · 1 year

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Concept: most aliens can get anxious, can get scared, can get fight-or-flight. What most aliens do not get, however, is stress. Stress is a weird thing even by human standards. It can build up over time or be something tied to a very limited situation. It can be caused by a lot of things, and it comes in a lot of different ways. But it's a core human reaction, when a situation is wrong, it causes stress until it is righted. And it even affects different people differently!

Cue Human Cassandra, on a ship with her friend and co-worker Human Pauline. The ship is crewed with a mix of species. It's a cargo ship - load up in a space port, unload in another, get news and supplies during their stops, and live as an ever-shifting family as some of the two dozen crew members, give or take, get replaced. Some leave come payday, and new ones come looking for the thrill of low-level adventure, experiencing warp drives across the safer roads of the known universe.

But getting the supplies you need, or want, in stops is never so easy. Humans are new to the galactic community, and their needs misunderstood. Most broad-edibility food is bland for them, but that's okay. A big enough bag of their condiments can last them years. But ADHD meds... now that's less easy to get, the further from Earth you are. And a contract too big for their captain to pass on came up, much farther than the two humans expected.

Cassandra's mood deteriorated, her work priorities out of order, her sleep schedule in disarray. Little by little, she grew restless, shifting moods and gears unpredictably. A few weeks in and she was a mess, barely able to keep up with the minimum her job doing maintenance and running safety diagnostics for the route charting team required of her. While Pauline could help with the mechanical aspects of keeping the ship running, picking up the "slack", the safety had to be double-checked by the charting and pilot teams. When the curves of asteroid probability reached beyond a certain level, several hundred simulations had to be run, time-consuming processes had to be used, to avoid any collision at speeds beyond speed c. Some truly exotic things happened to ships that experienced those, but none of them contained the words "surviving crew." A safe route avoided any probability of collision over .1% and when going faster than light, any choice of course required thinking in 3 dimensions plus relative time to navigate dangerous probability fields in one piece, finding time-specific corridors and accounting for a dozen variables at once.

After she had a breakdown over a path she would normally have been able to find in under a minute, Pauline spoke to a concerned pilot team member:

"You have to understand her, this is a stressful situation and she's doing her best..."

"What do you mean by 'stressful'?" Gabalt asked. The furry little creature stood on two arched legs, and barely reached up to Pauline's shoulder, opening three wide eyes with curiosity and concern in equal parts.

"Things are... getting difficult for her, and keep getting more difficult because she does not have medication to help her brain be efficient. It makes her tired, and inefficient, and as it goes on, she's less and less able to cope with the situation. The longer this goes on, the worse it gets, and that is stress. Getting more tired because it takes more energy to deal with the situation, and less efficient because she's more tired, and things get harder because she's less efficient, on and on until something can solve the problem and the stress goes away."

"That sounds... hard. Do all humans have to deal with this?"

"Well, everyone has sources of stress, but she's got a disability. Without her meds, she gets stressed all the time. Not a lot all at once, but it always adds up."

"Oh no! So she'll be stuck like that until we get closer to Earth?"

"Most likely, yes."

But the most momentous thing to happen this day was not her breakdown. Not an hour later, alarms blared up. The simulation holograms all displayed blinking red masses - the less-travelled "safe route" was not as well protected! An asteroid range had been detected cutting through the border field, and it was in their way!

Pauline froze up, not knowing what to do. Gabalt was too surprised to act fast. All the courses from the ship's library of regular manoeuvres suggested a crash chance of over 60%, and mere seconds to act before entering the field!

Before anyone could react, Cassandra came in running from her corner to the front of the bridge, slamming the warp drive shutdown button. Most holograms stuttered and collapsed, the exit from FTL essentially dividing one or several of their dimensions by zero.

Looking quickly at the few remaining ones and gazing at the screens showing the current outside situation like a large window would have - plus a few critical extra points of data - she adjusted the angles manually while everyone still shuddered from the gravitational and temporal whiplash of suddenly coming back into normal time. Unblinkingly, she spotted the asteroids on the route while the ship was still going, if not at relativistic speeds, still fast enough for a single pebble they met to vaporise the Whipple shields, the outer hull, the inner hull, the crew members, and the hull again coming out if they but grazed it. Confirming the angles visually, she played with the reaction wheels, the thrusters, the gravity drives, to divert the ship's course just enough to miss a collision while not risking any grave injury on board. There was no time to react - if anything showed up straight ahead on the "unaugmented" outside view screens, it was too late to not get splatted. After half the crew had had the time to get thrown to the side or on the ground due to the rough handling, she'd managed to avoid any crash.

Gabalt was reeling. While it was surely not impossible, these was the kind of moves experienced veterans would never wish to attempt, and the margins for error were ridiculously low! She'd saved the ship and everyone on it, whereas she'd been unable to do a simple safety run so soon before?

Pauline was white as a sheet, but this was nothing compared to Cassandra, shaking violently and breathing unevenly.

"Pauline? What is she doing?"

"That's... probably the adrenaline."

"What's it for?"

"It's from stress. When it comes it overcharges the body. It's like the traditional, 'fight or flight' instinct from survival in prey-predator paradigms, it lets you move fast but paralyses thought... it feels pretty bad after a lot of it is released though. Now she's crashing down, must be harrowing."

"How did she do that? And you said her thoughts were paralysed for precision manoeuvres?"

Cassandra's voice came, nearly a mutter: "I just... had to. do it."

Gabalt needed to understand what happened.

"What do you mean you had to? Someone had to do it, but why you?"

"It- it was very stressful, I saw you freeze, and so."

"But... but HOW did you do all that? That was extremely complicated, few pilots -whose main craft is directly piloting- would want to even try doing that when given a choice!?"

"I had to. do it, so I did. I couldn't. couldn't make a mistake."

"This makes absolutely no sense."

Pauline interrupted. "She just works like that. Lots of stress and when people freeze up, humans with her condition... sometimes, surprisingly, function better in the moment than others can."

"Ah. So it's a human thing. of course, it's a human thing. NOTHING MAKES ANY SENSE WITH YOUR ACCURSED SPECIES" the diminutive pilot pouted.

And so one more story of the humans doing the impossible spread around. Humans of a subtype, more easily harmed, sometimes unstable and needing help for the simplest things... accomplishing odd, unthinkable, borderline heroic feats under duress none could be expected to withstand - but only then. Cursed, blessed? No story-teller seemed too certain. But the "magical" species never stopped surprising all others. And a new proverb developed: "it's not over until the human says it is".

#humans are space fae #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are deathworlders #earth is space australia #stress response #ADHD #attention deficit hyperactivity disorder

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marlinspirkhall · 6 months

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Humans sending out signal after signal, message after message, space probes, emails, photos, light shows, intergalactic fireworks, all in the hope that they're not alone: Please reply, please reply, please reply, ple–

Aliens, screeching across the universe in a brand new FTL ship: CAN YOU SHUT UP? WE GOT YOUR FIRST ONE THOUSAND MESSAGES, DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND HOW BIG SPACE IS?

Humans: oh my goooooosh, hi

Humans: Did you invent faster than light travel just for us? 🥺

Aliens: NO!!!

SETI: Radio message received.

Radio message: We are receiving you. We have decided to answer you in your own language, and–

SETI: New radio message received.

Aliens: Oh no.

Radio message: We have received your previous messages pertaining to life on Earth, and have included our own data packet about life on Big Tree in return. We named our planet before we learned it was only 30% arboreal. Thank you for the golden disc, it was extremely tasty. Haha. Just kidding.

SETI: Data packet downloaded. Decrypting...

SETI: New radio message received.

Radio message: As previously stated, we are receiving your messages and your gifts. We took a photo of our planet with our own photo-capture device, as we were unhappy with the one you provided.

SETI: Data packet update: Warning: Several terrabytes of information may be corrupted.

SETI: New radio message received.

Radio message: This is the Generation Ship Tree Hollow. My designation is Captain Root-Skygazer. Our people have instructed us to fly ahead and communicate with you when we reached the thirty-year marker, as these messages are likely to reach you faster. They request that you stop broadcasting messages with the subject line: 'Oh, how woeful it is to be alone in an uncaring universe (and other similar poems)' because it frightens the children and makes our scientists deeply existential. I, personally, am partial to episodes of M star A star S star H. It has been of great interest to learn historical facts about the longest Earth conflict of your common era. I miss my home, and I am saddened that I will never see yours. This ship has a self-sustaining ecosystem of plants native to our planet, and a crew manifest of one hundred and fifty-seven. The replacement generation currently numbers one hundred and seventeen.

Radio message: Hey, Ball Of Dirt, it's Big Tree again. Lose our number, would you? There must be some other semi-evolved space aemoba you can bother. (Several words untranslateable)

Aliens: Yeah, so your answering machine is going to be like that for a while–

Humans: What was that part about a Generation Ship?

Aliens: We were hoping you could tell us that, actually. We lost contact with them after the 200 year marker.

Radio message: This is the generation ship Tree Hollow. My designation is Captain Cradleroot. Captain Root-Skygazer was my grandfather. Inspired by the speeches of your contemporary leader, Ronald Reagan, I decided to restructure the existing system here which allowed crewmembers to eat as they required. Under this new system, we award tokens to whom we feel has done the most valuable work, and they can redistribute those to the hungry if they wish. But they do not. However, I believe that [...]

Humans:

Aliens:

Humans:

Aliens: This is all your fault, by the way.

#The Generation Ship Tree Hollow #Humans are space orcs #sci fi #writing

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niqhtlord01 · 2 months

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Humans are weird: Do not give them Toys

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

When the human government wished to initiate trade with the Filthrax Conglomerate the Filthrax were understandably cautious. They had always been sensitive when it came to sharing technology with other species. To that end they had an extensive amount of restrictions on what could and couldn’t be traded; excluding much of their more advanced technology from ever reaching the market.

The humans in comparison were technologically inferior to the Filthrax in nearly every aspect so they pictured the humans to heavily lobby for advanced technology to be made available. So it was with some surprise that when negotiations began the humans did not lobby for advanced technology, they instead seemed deeply invested in obtaining the Filthrax toys.

This was not something the negotiators had expected. Research into human culture had showed a deep rooted sense of aggression, towards outsiders and themselves when promoted, which made them believe that the first opening bid would be towards military grade technology.

Sensing the discord, the human diplomats explained that while they would like more advanced technology to be an option, they understood the hesitance and reluctance to trade such dangerous items. They said they would be fine earning the Filthrax’s trust over an extended period of time through trade. It seemed that several human enterprises had their eyes on Filthrax toys and they seemed like a safe enough items to begin trade. The Filthrax agreed and so trade lines were opened between the great powers.

What the aliens saw as a harmless deal was in fact the first foot in the door that could never be closed.

Several million orders for toys were placed almost overnight and the economic boon was felt overnight throughout the Filthrax Conglomerate. None of them understood the fascination humans had with their trinkets but if they were willing to pay then they would be more than happy to sell. It wasn’t until the Nexus Wars began that the Filthrax would come to understand their folly.

The “Nexus” was a series of star systems that held the majority of trade lanes between the core worlds and the far flung resource rich outer zones. Trade through these lanes was deemed to be the most stable for long distance transportation so whoever controlled these regions would make considerable wealth from their stewardship.

Current stewardship fell to the Omicron Empire who had held the systems for the last several hundred years and as such used the profits it generated to fund their empires expansion. The humans wished to control these routes to fund their own imperial ambitions but had never leveled the playing field with the Omicron military to make such a transgression possible.

Then, without warning, the human military launched a series of strikes against Omicron bases and fleets in the Nexus systems triggering the “Nexus War”. The Omicrons raised their fleets and armies and dispatched them to the systems with the full intention of repelling the humans and then carrying on their counter offensive into human space. What they met however was a suddenly technologically advanced human military spouting drastic advances in military equipment not seen.

Human soldiers now carried portable shielding units that blocked everything less than a direct hit from a hover tank, while their ships launched fusion bombs carrying a heavy enough payload to shatter Timbar class battleships in half.

With this new technology, the human military had taken control of half of the Nexus systems within five months of the wars start. Other powers dotting the stars took notice of the sudden prowess of the human military, as well as the calculations predicting that within another five months the Omicron Empire would be driven from the Nexus systems. Some cheered at seeing their old rivals in the Omicron’s brought low, others sent delegations to the human government pledging alliances and treaties, many more came to join the war effort now sensing blood amongst the stars; but to the Filthrax, they quickly came to realize the part they had played in this war.

While Filthrax toys were rather unremarkable, they were unique in the way that their power sources could last an entire lifetime. Through controlled energy distribution, the Filthrax had created a rudimentary power source that, while considered basic in their society, was light years ahead of any neighboring species.

The humans were well aware of this feature.

They knew before negotiations even began that the Filthrax would never part with their advanced weaponry or technology, but they would be willing to part with something they considered nothing more than a toy. Toys that were then torn apart to get to the power source, reverse engineered, and then used to power weapons and machines of human design.

Filthrax toys were now forming the basis for a new galactic power, and they had been fooled into giving them away for nothing more than currency.

The sudden realization sent shockwaves through the upper echelons of the Filthrax. If they admitted this they would be not only be publically humiliated on a galactic scale; but also be portrayed as cobelligerents in the war. Not only that, it would invalidate their own standing treaties with other species which specifically stated they would not trade anything that could be repurposed for war. They could see trade agreements torn asunder for a dozen species with even embargos placed upon their territories. Worse yet was if they did cease trading with the humans the human government could release the information and still black list them to the wider galaxy.

So they sat and watched the war from the sidelines, contemplating that their bobbles may have very well just doomed the universe.

#humans are insane #humans are weird #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01

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troublesomesnitch · 2 months

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Make Your Hands Unclean

Aemond x Wife!Reader - Period sex drabble

Premise and bits of dialogue shamelessly stolen from The Borgias.

Contents: drabble, pure filth. Menstrual sex, p in v, anal touching, graphic imagery. Internalised misogyny and harmful attitudes towards menstruation. Aemond is an asshole. Porn with weird plottish vibes.

Words: 2300

idk what this even is, this thing kind of wrote itself and I just went with it. It is kind of a mess tbh.

You were supposed to marry a lord.

That is what you were raised for, and those are the skills you were taught. To sing, to dance, to play the harp; to make yourself look pleasant. Your septa taught you to sew, and a woman from Essos taught you to weave, and in the afternoons the maester taught you history and linguistics, astronomy and arithmetic, and other things that ladies rarely speak about, but nevertheless must learn.

For it is the lady, not the lord, who runs the castle. Who manages the household, and oversees the people it employs. Such a lady must ideally be both kind and commanding, generous and frugal. She must know how to handle serfs and noblemen alike, and she must be proficient in numeracy; able to record expenses and perform difficult calculations.

To be a prince’s wife requires no such skills.

This castle already has two queens, and besides it is not for royal women to concern themselves with practical matters. There are ladies-in-waiting for that, and stewards, chamberlains, maids and matrons; an army of servants hundreds strong to ensure that you may always be spoiled and idle. More than a lady, but less than a queen, left to twiddle your thumbs and wonder when, if ever, the oppressive walls of Maegor’s Holdfast will begin to feel like home.

You do not like it here.

The days are long in King’s Landing, and the air is foul, polluted by the smoke of ten thousand hearths, by the stench of filth and unwashed bodies. It seeps through every crack and crevice, and you like the early mornings the most, when a cleansing mist blows in from the sea, and the ship’s bells ring over Blackwater Bay.

Your husband rises early too, though it is for different reasons. Prince Aemond adheres to strict routines, to noble pursuits and rigorous discipline. He is exactly as people say: a stoic, severe in both temper and countenance, condemning indulgence and deriding depravity.

Yet for all of his moral posturing, he does seem to have developed a taste for it rather quickly.

You couldn’t say the exact number of times the prince has had you, but it has been many, and often, and in every position imaginable, and you dutifully report it all back to your family. As they have instructed you to do.

Before you were sent off to the capital, you were relentlessly reminded that there will never again be an opportunity such as this. That a marriage to a royal prince is a rare honour for your family, and one that was only made possible because the crown finds itself at war. Your house is not a great one, and your father is not the noblest lord, but he is very wealthy. And on the field of battle, wealth does tend to triumph.

You do not know what other promises were made, what lands or titles were negotiated. Only that so much now depends on you; on your ability to please your husband and give him healthy children. Preferably male, but even a daughter would markedly strengthen your position. So you play your part as best as you can , and you pen your secret letters, divulging all the details of your intimate affairs. That the prince sleeps with you frequently, and seems to find great pleasure in it. That he performs his movements to completion, and expends his semen inside your body.

It is a grave responsibility to have on your shoulders, and you were utterly crushed when you woke to find your insides churning, and your sheets stained with blood.

They will be most displeased, your mother and father. Your brothers and uncles, and your cousins too. Prince Aemond's seed has not yet taken.

In the evening he knocks on your door. Two determined raps, and you are thoroughly surprised. Your maid will have told his mother of your ailment, and she will have told him, and he too must be disappointed. But you know it is the prince, for there is no one else who would visit you at this hour.

You know very well what he has come for, too.

“We can’t tonight,” you sigh.

“And why is that?” he says, amused, as if the idea that you would refuse him is ridiculous.

“My blood - I am bleeding.”

Prince Aemond hums, but he walks to your couch and begins to undress himself, unbuckling his doublet and unlacing his breeches, tugging off his boots while you wring your hands.

He can’t be serious. He can’t mean to take you like this.

“It’s not - it isn’t proper,” you protest. “Our maester said it is ill-advised - most men find it unclean - “

“I am not most men,” he scoffs.

There is no arguing against that, and he says it with all the confidence of someone who knows it to be true. Aemond is a royal prince. A dragonlord, a scion of a greater people. Second to no one but his king and brother, and if he wants to get himself all bloodied, then you suppose that is his right.

He rids himself of his undershirt, and you reluctantly move to the side to let him join you in bed. It isn’t proper, but your insides flutter when he pulls you against his naked body, letting you feel the warmth of his skin, his manhood against the back of your thigh. It is hard, and twitching when he runs his hands over your figure, your breasts and your stomach, your waist, your hips, the tops of your thighs -

“No, you mustn’t - ” you squeak, but he rucks your gown up anyway and slips his hand in between your legs.

You are wet there, with blood as well as with desire, and you can feel the stickiness when he spreads your lips, curving his fingers and sliding them back and forth along your slit. His breathing is hoarse just from caressing you, from feeling your wet, your warmth, your little swollen nub begging to be touched. You whimper when he circles it with the gentlest of strokes, light and teasing, until you arch your hips up in frustration and breathe oh please.

Prince Aemond likes it when you beg. Only then does he press down, but not enough to bring you to a peak. Just enough to make your insides tighten, and more blood gush from your womb.

You always did find it strangely beautiful, the blood of your cycle. Deep maroon, and scarlet red - but you are ashamed to see it coating the prince’s fingers when he withdraws them. It is thick, and clotted, and he takes a moment to study it before he wipes his hand clean on your shift.

“Are you not displeased with me?” you whisper. He should be, given that you have failed to conceive. That there is no way of knowing if you can bear children at all.

“One mere month is not cause for concern,” the prince says.

You breathe a faint sigh of relief. It is a comfort to know that at least your husband doesn’t hold your failure against you - yet.

He tugs on your shift, eager to expose your body, but you cross your hands over your chest.

“Let me keep it for tonight,” you plead.

You can’t rid yourself of the thought that you are unclean, and you would feel so much more at ease if he didn’t see your heavy, aching body. But you don’t want to entirely deny him access to it, either. Seeing as you are bleeding, the chances of begetting a child are small, which means that his wish to sleep with you must come from genuine desire rather than obligation. And that makes you very happy, as you imagine it would any wife.

You will make sure to include it in the next letter you send back home. Hopefully it will lessen their disappointment.

The prince looks somewhat displeased, but he lets you keep your dress, resorting instead to bunching it up around your waist. He is stern, but never cruel to you, even if he does pull at the neck to bare more of your breasts. He pinches your nipple, and then his hand moves downward again, and you throw your leg over his hip to give him more room to touch you.

This time he does it properly. His fingers find your pleasure right away, and he swiftly brings you to your rapture, impatient as he is to have you. It leaves his hand stained and tainted, and once again he wipes it off on your shift, but this time you don’t care.

With the position you’re in, it is easy for him to crawl over your leg and take his place between them, and he kisses you as he presses against you, deeply and hungrily, rocking his hips, his manhood throbbing and leaking between your legs.

Your parts are soaked, but he is careful when he pushes inside. Despite the prince’s relentless pursuit of knowledge, he must not know all that much about a woman’s blood, at least not in practical terms. Where it hurts, and how much, and whether this intrusion will make it worse. You can’t hold it against him - you don’t believe there are many scholars who would want to write about the topic, and how then was he supposed to learn?

“Harder,” you pant, and he obliges, moving faster and pushing deep inside.

You let him find a steady rhythm, hooking your legs over his hips, and letting your hands wander over his body while he has his way with you. You stroke his balls, imagining that what he keeps inside will take root in you. You pinch his nipples, all hard with pleasure, and you slide your hands down to his lower back, to the base of his spine, where the skin is dusted with downy hairs. Where you can feel each of his thrusts; the rolling movements of his hips, the rhythmic clenching of his buttocks.

Your dainty touch makes him shudder, and you move your hands to his arse, and then further still, slipping your fingers in between his buttocks. To where he is warm and tender, and where his skin starts to pucker.

It is filthy, the way he twitches there. The way he throbs. A dirty place to touch, and a sinful thing to do, but you have found that the prince likes it. No added pressure or attempts at entry, just gentle strokes with the tips of your fingers. Soft caresses over his opening.

He buries his face in your neck and groans, and you can feel that he is nearing his peak. His movements are fast and shallow, his chest heaving and slick with sweat.

“Yes, my prince,” you whisper. “Fill me with your seed, put a son inside me - “

He likes that. He hisses loudly, gripping the headboard for purchase, and you look up at him when his hips stutter. Prince Aemond’s face is always handsome, but never more than when he is on top of you, in the throes of ecstasy. His brow is furrowed and his eye squeezed shut, and the tension in his body makes the damaged side of his face convulse, his lip twitching up towards the scar.

He wouldn’t like for you to see that, but in this state he does not feel it happening.

You lie still as he peaks, allowing him to rut into you wildly, groaning and grunting as he spills his seed. Hot, and wet, and adding to the mess inside you. He lies limp on top of you to catch his breath, and when he finally withdraws, the blood is everywhere. On his softening organ, on his sack, and crusted to the soft hairs on his thighs.

“I’ve made you dirty,” you state.

“Yes, you have,” he says. “In more ways than one.”

You look the other way to give him some privacy when he rises to tidy and dress himself. On your wedding night he stayed with you until the morning, and he has done it a few times since, but it is not a common occurrence. Prince Aemond prefers to sleep alone, and your mother chastises you for that too. She says that to rouse a man’s desire is less than half the battle, and that you must make your husband love you.

Of course if it were really that simple, then there would be no unhappy marriages and no children born as bastards, and if you knew how to make a man fall in love, you would be the richest woman in all the world.

But you must at least try.

“Won’t you stay with me?” You ask. “It is - important, for a woman to be embraced - to be treated gently, afterwards…”

“Next time, I will,” he says. And that is the end of that, for you will not stoop so low as to beg for his company.

He smoothes out his shirt and pulls on his breeches, and you sit up and comb your fingers through your tangled hair. When you look down there are stains on your sheets, and a thick rosy fluid trickling out between your legs.

“You may want to abstain from riding,” the prince says over his shoulder. “It is known to upset the balance of the womb.”

You nod, bound to obey what is clearly a command posing as a suggestion.

“Did you know,” you muse, “that the blood of the womb is the only blood that is not born from violence?”

Prince Aemond looks at you with a thoughtful expression, one that suggests he had in fact not considered that before.

“Quite the philosopher you are,” he remarks, with a little raise of his brow. Coming from him, that is the highest praise.

It does not change his mind about staying, but he does press a noble kiss to your temple before he leaves you. Sore and bloodied, but content.

You did well tonight.

Notes

“Most men find it unclean/I am not most men” is from S1E7 of the Borgias.

“Menstruation is the only blood that is not born from violence and yet it’s the one that disgusts you the most” is a quote by artist Maia Schwartz. I couldn’t find any more information about her unfortunately.

Tags. @arcielee, @targaryen-madness.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond smut #aemond x you #aemond targaryen #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic

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redtsundere-writes · 2 days

Note

sukuna and servant!reader is so good!! looking forward to rescue more of them <33

Eyes On Me | Sukuna Ryomen

king!sukuna ryomen x femservant!reader

Sypnosis: Uraume can't play chess with the king right now, you must step up. Contents: Obsession, pining, kinda fluffy, mentions of blood and body parts. Uraume uses they/them pronouns. Word Count: 2404 words. Author's Note: I love writing this ship. People have been asking me to make this a series. I'll try my best lol I think you can still read them individually, but there's a preferred order.

Beginning. ← Previous |

Sukuna hates humans. It's a fact of life. The sky is blue, roses are red and Sukuna hates the disgusting creatures that humans are. He has so many reasons to hate them that he doesn't even know where to begin. Humans are annoying, weak, clumsy, but most of all, stupid. They make decisions without thinking through the consequences. They prefer to spend their money on temporary pleasures and end up bankrupt by not prioritizing their survival. They worry about unimportant things such as social status, religion, and traditions. Sukuna hates humans, but boy, are they entertaining.

Sukuna tends to study his servants very carefully. Even though they only clean, cook and obey his orders to a tee, it was fun to watch them interact with each other. He finds it fascinating how the servants gossip in whispers, how the gardeners concentrate to prune the bushes well despite their hands shaking, or how the cooks taste the food several times so that it’s up to their majesty's standards. It was like watching dozens of filthy lab rats in the middle of a social experiment. Although… There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what they were doing.

You had finished all the chores for the day and decided to help the cooks prepare dinner because you had nothing better to do. Your muscles were exhausted from having spent all morning cleaning the porcelain sculptures, the large frames of the paintings in the great hall, and the king's jewelry so they could sparkle in all their glory. You had been assigned the task of peeling potatoes, so there you were. Sitting at a table with a small knife, peeling potatoes while listening to the chaos going on in the kitchen. Uraume was busy preparing a special passion fruit tea for the king. The special coming from the water that was inked with human blood. Sometimes you wondered if Uraume had always agreed to cook with humans or was it something they got used to because of Sukuna's orders, but since they never talked about themselves, you never asked.

“Fuck!” A cook yelled when the frying pan caught fire.

Your eyes widened at the flashy flare. Uraume put the tea set aside to attend to the emergency. With some ice from their magic hands, they put out the fire in a jiffy, but left the kitchen a mess. They began to berate the cook with smacks in the head and curses for his ineptitude. The cook just apologized over and over again, but that wasn't enough for the head chef.

“You!” Uraume called. You put your task aside to attend to their orders. “Take the tea to our king and tell him I will be with him when I settle this situation.” You nodded and took the tray carefully to go in search of him.

After Sukuna gave you permission, you entered the library with the golden tray in your hands. The library was the coziest room in the entire castle. Its high walls were covered with huge bookcases filled with books, maps, and scrolls. There were long desks of works and hundreds of candleholders everywhere to enjoy reading during the evenings. He was sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in front of the game table, a small wooden table with a chessboard on top. The king was surprised to see you there despite having specified Uraume's presence.

“I didn't ask you to come,” Sukuna said chidingly as you served him tea at a small table next to him.

“Uraume had to attend to an emergency in the kitchen. They'll be here once everything is under control,” you replied as you set down the fragile cup of blood tea, adorned with small pieces of eyeball floating on the red surface to give it texture.

Your gaze traveled to the chessboard, it had been a long time since you had seen the king playing. You knew from the other servants that he was a good player and only plays with Uraume or some brave guest. This was no ordinary board. You could see that each piece was handmade and had luxurious detail. The pieces were made of white quartz, the eyes of the horses were rubies and the crowns of the kings were made of jade. It was the most beautiful board game you ever saw.

“Do you know how to play?” Sukuna asked out of curiosity.

Being a servant, you surely had not received the same education as he did. Well, almost no one was on his level when it came to education. Sukuna was a master mathematician, a skilled debater and could threaten his enemies in 5 different languages. You hadn't been as lucky. You're good at cleaning, cooking and taking orders, but what else can you do?

“Yes,” you answered with a smile.

That answer surprised him quite a bit. Although chess was a game that was rapidly gaining popularity among the middle class, it was not a game for women. It was a game that required intellect, always thinking two moves ahead and knowing how to read your opponent. You didn't look like a girl who could do all that.

“Sit down,” Sukuna ordered you.

“I warn you that it may be a short game. It's been a long time since I've played,” you warned him as you sat down.

Sukuna watched you with great attention. Your eyes scanned the board as if it was the first time you had ever seen one, your hands rested gently on your thighs and you smiled nervously. You may have known the rules of the game, but you didn't know how to play. The king took your word for it.

“Ladies first,” he asked you to start.

“My pleasure,” you said as your dominant hand moved over the pieces to decide what your first move would be.

Your father had taught you how to play. He always wanted a son to inherit the family business, but your mother only kept giving birth to women, so he had to resign himself to you. Your mother taught you how to be a lady so you could get married as soon as possible and your father taught you about the business so that your future husband wouldn’t take advantage of the family money. You used to sit in front of the wooden board and talk for hours after dinner. Your father may not have been the wisest or the most astute man, but he had left you a very important lesson: Always look people in the eye to know their true intentions.

This was one of the few times you came face to face with Sukuna. Because of his title as king and the great difference in height, you were always beneath him, physically and psychologically speaking. You were a simple human, while he was a king with the power to get rid of whomever he wanted with a simple movement of his fingers. Although his presence made you feel vulnerable, you didn't resent him. You had a relatively comfortable life serving him, but sometimes there was a need for you to show him that you were more than a servant. This was a good opportunity to do so.

Sukuna's eyes were not on you, they were on the board. His gaze denoted boredom. He was waiting patiently for you to make the first move. If you waited a little longer, maybe he would yawn. He overestimated you, you had to use that feeling against him. You moved a pawn to the C4 square, a common move among beginners.

“Finally…” He said in a monotone voice before quickly moving the knight to the F6 square.

Each of you took turns to move the pieces quietly as time went by. You took your time with each move, while the king only needed to look at the board from time to time to know what to do next. You could take all the time in the world, but he would still eat all your pieces. Even though it didn't seem to be an interesting game, you could at least keep up with him. Sukuna's queen advanced towards yours, standing face to face. One false move and your king was in trouble.

“Check,” you said as the queen retreated two squares diagonally, leaving her free to begin the attack on the king.

At that announcement, Sukuna woke up from the trance he was in to concentrate on what he was doing. He smiled with satisfaction as he noticed the change in your body. Your hands had relaxed, your back was straight, and your eyes were glued to his. You knew exactly what you were doing. You didn't need to tell him verbally that you would destroy him at his own game, your eyes told him clearly. It was as if you were dissecting his soul bit by bit until you left him completely naked.

Your hands were interleaved with each turn. You moved quickly as you realized that Sukuna had already noticed your active presence on the board. Sukuna returned the queen to his side. An interesting move. It was wise to know when to back away, but you noticed one thing in his eyes. He had no plan, he just acted based on his understanding of the game. He moved like in real life, using only his killer instincts.

“Check,” you announced again by moving a knight up.

“Not so fast,” Sukuna told you before taking the horse that was threatening his king using a queen. You smiled as you saw that his majesty had fallen into the trap. By moving his pieces like that, Sukuna had fully exposed his king.

“Checkmate,” you announced the end of the game as soon as you moved the white queen close to the black king. And only then, the poor maid defeated the almighty king.

“Well, well...” Sukuna sighed in awe as he looked at the board with extreme curiosity. He couldn't be mad at you. He had let his guard down. You were playing even before the game started.

There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what you were doing. Sukuna would always hyper fixate on you whenever he noticed your presence around him. You could be cleaning, chatting with your companions or eating some dried fruit in the garden, and he would still only notice you as if nothing else in the world existed. You were the most interesting human he had ever seen. Sukuna tried to look for a logical reason for his obsession with you, but he couldn't do it. You looked like a simple being with clear goals, but he was sure you were hiding something behind your perfect facade.

Someone knocked at the door. Sukuna sighed, he wanted to be alone with you longer, but now was not the time. Uraume entered the room and was surprised to see you sitting with his majesty. Something strange had been going on between the two of you for months. They had even debated the idea of asking the king directly about you, but hadn't worked up the courage to do so.

“There was an inconvenience in the kitchen. Sorry to keep you waiting, your majesty,” Uraume bowed in apology.

“Lucky for you, you sent a good replacement,” Sukuna said before smiling at you in satisfaction.

Uraume instantly understood just by glancing at the board. You had beaten the king, something even they could not easily accomplish. They could tell that he was looking at you like no one else. It wasn't a look of disgust or boredom, it was a curious look. Like that of a child looking at a group of kids playing in the playground, wondering if he could come over to play with them.

“If you'll excuse me, I have to go,” you said as you got up to give the seat to Uraume. “Good game. It was a pleasure to play against you, my king,” you bowed.

“Good game,” Sukuna whispered so you could leave the room.

Sukuna and Uraume started a new game as soon as you returned to the kitchen to peel potatoes. They quickly noticed that something was occupying her majesty's mind. Their white pieces were eating his black pieces easily and his moves were slow compared to previous games. Uraume could tell that the game against you had changed the way he played.

“What do you see in her?” Uraume asked him after a move.

“Am I too obvious?” Sukuna asked them before getting up from his seat to start prowling around the library to clear his mind. “What do you think of her?” He asked her as he stopped in front of the window to admire the land. The large green lawn stretched all the way to the intimidating entrance of his wonderful castle.

“She is a dedicated servant and a perfectionist. She does all the chores in a timely manner. She is as good a servant as any other. The real question is: What do you think of her?” Uraume asked as they watched him from their seat.

“She has potential.”

“Potential? Potential for what?” Uraume arched their eyebrow at the confusing statement.

“She has the potential to become a queen,” Sukuna replied confidently.

Sukuna Ryomen was known among the kingdoms for being an unorthodox king. Not only because he took kingdoms left and right as if it were nothing, but because he has a strange way of ruling his people. He did not care about social classes, behavioral labels or unwritten codes of human coexistence. Everyone was inferior to him regardless of gender, race, or religion. He was the god of this new world and everyone had to obey him, just like that.

The fact that he wanted to have a queen went far beyond just following the established patterns of classical monarchy. Sukuna must have a reason why he wants to have a queen other than just because, but there was a more important question on the table.

“Your majesty, you can get any woman you want. You can get a beautiful woman, with more training and presence, why would you settle for a servant?” Uraume asked in confusion. Sukuna smiled. It was a good question.

“She has something much better than that,” he answered before continuing the game as if nothing happened. Uraume looked down to see that Sukuna had checkmated them.

Author's Note: I poured my poor knowledge on chess for this lol I hope it makes sense.

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Masterlist.

#fanfic #fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen #jjk imagine #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #fluff #jjk fluff #king x servant #sukuna x reader #ryoumen sukuna #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #jjk ryomen #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #ryomen x reader

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