#But we can hold it to higher standards

[cavernfullofexistentialdread]

My thoughts on FIVE

LONG POST AHEAD

I found it promising, I’ll tell you that much. I do have to acknowledge my bias towards to this piece of art. It’s WONDERFUL that a musical like SIX has sparked so much creativity and is even getting a parody!! WE’VE MADE IT INTO THE HALL OF FAME QUEENDOM!!

ALSO FUCKING JAIME??? STARKID FANS RISE UP!!

I’m was giving this thing the benefit of the doubt. I was sort of confused when I first learned about it, and I had this gut feeling that I’d hate it. I honestly thought it was kind of weird that we’re using this to make a parody of… TRUMP of all people??? Like these women are still ALIVE to my knowledge.

My only wish is that they acknowledge and give their opinion on this musical in some way because say it with me now; THEIR STILL ALIVE AND HAVE THE RIGHT TO AN OPINION ON HOW THEIR VIEWED!

However I have not seen it yet and I am excited to see what my favorite musical has inspired! …Is what I’d be saying if I hadn’t read some reviews. It seems the general consensus is that while it is funny it’s not as innovative in its humor as it could be. And it may not have done what it wanted

As this TheaterMania review states

“A musical send-up of the women in Trump’s orbit, Five: The Parody Musical, would seem to be just what the doctor ordered as we face the prospect of yet another Trump administration. So why wasn’t I laughing?“

I thought this article was being a little harsh on this musical, until I read THIS.

“The few genuinely funny moments in Five spring entirely from Jen Wineman’s adequate production — her choreography is both simplistic and sloppily executed, which is funny in its own way — and the ingenuity of the actors.”

I was surprised by this, the advertising leaned heavily into the humor of it all. The fact that it was a parody—“LOOK OUT SIX!” And “MAKE AMERICA LAUGH AGAIN!” made me excited to see how they’d creatively dunk on Trump. Like how SIX had done with Henry VIII

Then I remembered what else this article had said in regards to the humor

“The jokes generally hit three points: Donald Trump is orange, he has a small penis, and he likes getting peed on. This is territory that our overpopulated heard of late-night hosts have already stomped to death — without asking audiences to fork over the price of an off-Broadway ticket.””

And I was getting suspicious, so I looked at some more reviews. This article spends a lot of time dogging on FIVE and I was still trying to hold out hope.

This review from StageandCinema is a lot more kind! I was excited to find out what went RIGHT! About this musical!

“Five is much more sexual and crude in its descriptions of being fucked by Donald Trump. Hearing about his small prick and his sexual escapades (especially from pornstar Stormy), I struggled to immediately delete such images from my mind’s eye. The thought of Donald in any sexual act turned my stomach, which may have kept me from laughing. Perhaps nausea and comedy cancel each other out?”

OH… UHM…

Of course in the end they do have the same acknowledgment at the end of SIX, “Just because we were fucked by Donald Trump doesn’t mean we need to fuck each other over.” (A direct quote from the end of the paragraph containing the previous quote)

Through this article I also found out that this is actually a jukebox parody! (Which is when you parody existing songs in order to use it in the plot of a musical story telling medium). Which honestly was a welcome surprise. They’re not ashamed that is a BLATANT parody.

Okay! Let’s see what else we can find!

“It did seem like a clever idea, for at least five seconds”

WOW okay…

This article then goes on to discuss some political and legal matters that has come up surrounding the Sex worker that Trump is going against in court. He IS the first president with a criminal record (he went to court for sexual abuse, and also was impeached)

The article puts it perfectly

“Given such news of late, it’s increasingly difficult for me to appreciate, or even tolerate, a trivial show like “Five.” The creative team hasn’t read the room.”

This isn’t a fuck you to Trump supporters, this isn’t seriously discussing Trump’s effect on these women in ANY sort of fashion, this isn’t even ABOUT discussing Trump’s political status. It’s about parodying SIX and making fun of these women. The main selling point is “WHAT IF SIX BUT TRUMP!?”

“But even those who still view political humor as political armor will be disappointed, because “Five” seems little interested in Trump’s treatment of women, much less his threat to American democracy; instead, its main target is “Six.”  As political commentary, “Five” is near witless, tasteless, and toothless. But even just as a parody of “Six,” it’s too on the nose. If some theatergoers will find “Five” entertaining, I suspect it’ll largely be because its talented six-member cast makes the most of the moments in the show that add up to a stealth, second-rate “Forbidden Broadway.”

This review is BRUTAL it points out the flaws it see’s in FIVE with wit full words. This article was my turning point. It made me genuinely start to be dissatisfied with a show I HAVEN’T EVEN SEEN YET.

““Five” is not an exercise in female empowerment; the women in Trump’s lives are most often mocked.  Nor is it a takedown of a would-be tyrant; zingers against Trump rarely get more sophisticated than commenting on the size of his penis or calling him the orange bitch or orange troll.”

This is an insult to the very FABRIC of my opinions. THIS WAS A PARODY OF SIX. OF SIX. INCLUDE STUFF FROM SIX. JUST BECAUSE YOU HAVE THE MORAL DOES NOT MEAN YOU TAUGHT IT. TRUMP IS NOT A GOOD PERSON.

THIS IS A PARODY OF SIX. BE CREATIVE WITH YOUR INSULTS! IF YOU’RE MAKING A PARODY ABOUT TRUMP THAT HAS TO DO WITH THE SUFFARAGE OF WOMEN AND WHAT WE DO WITH TRAGEDY; FUCKING SHOW IT!

This is so obviously anti-Trump. But it does’t FEEL that way. It feels against these women as well. Which is strange, considering it’s supposed to be like SIX.

Don’t get me wrong I fucking HATE TRUMP CAN’T WAIT FOR HIS ACTIONS TO CATCH UP TO HIM. But HOLY SHIT this is NOT where I thought this musical was going!

I plan on looking more into this musical, but these are my thoughts for now. I was initially a hater, turned skeptic, turned confused and insulted.

Look—I don’t WANT to be so hateful about something I haven’t seen. But if THIS is what reviews are saying (and there’s barely any of them) then WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH IT???

I WANT THESE ACTRESSES TO HAVE AMAZING CAREERS! But if THIS is the show their put on, a show that is INSULTING women… then what???

#Youtube #FIVE #FIVE a parody musical #FIVE musical #jaime lyn beatty #jaime starkid #Starkid Jaime #Anyae Anasia #Gabriella Joy Rodrigue #Gabi Garcia #Hannah Bonnet #Jasmine Rice Labeija #SIX #six musical #six the musical #I wouldn’t call this a “review” #Just my thoughts #RANTY RANT RANT #TLDR; Wow okay… WHAT. I was skeptical at first but this is… it’s infuriating as a woman appreciator a six fan and a trump hater. #I understand if you find this show funny #not everyone’s humor is the same #But I just wanted… more #Especially from an off broadway production #We obviously can’t hold it to HIGH standards #But we can hold it to higher standards #NO BETA WE DIE LIKE DEAD COUSINS

[destielgaysex]

reading the tags of a s7 dean crit post to find samgirls going on about how dean is mean to sam and doesnt get that sam is mentally ill and "this is straight up abusive behavior." all i have to say is: do you remember what show you are watching and s7 dean was grieving cas being dead so he is excused from any wrongdoing because he is widowering for the first time.

#meanwhile cas with amnesia being married to a greenhaired brunnette woman #🧍‍♂️ <- thats cas #i think you can take supernatural seriously and delve into what dean has done wrong #do not get it twisted like i know dean is fucked up and has done wrong 😭 #but i think holding deanto a higher standard than sam or even cas is so silly #like if ur gonna call dean abusive and then say sam is sooo #say sam is so helpless and dean abused him #that is just completely misunderstanding what is happening 😭 #so while i am not bashinf these samgirls for taking the show 'too seriously' #i am instead saying their inability to hold sam accountable like they do dean is laughable #like i defintely rag on sam as a joke sometimes but it isnt Serious #bc i know dean and even cas have been 'abusive' #like damn the entire show is about toxic relationships cant we just chill

[indiaalphawhiskey]

.

#guys I am dead serious #I will not tolerate smack talk #about a woman who’s done #literally nothing except #walk next to him #especially because we can barely even #ID her #god the way some of you can’t #pull it together for one second #is truly frightening #if nothing else #hold yourself to a higher standard #so that the thing Olivia said about us #being crazy don’t have to be true #if it takes revenge to keep you classy #use it #Jesus Christ #anyone who leaves anything else #in my inbox in the same tone #is getting blocked #god be better than who Olivia thinks we are

[brittlebutch]

actually first ep of Voyager where Janeway talks to Tuvok about how his family misses him is that when she says they Worry about him Tuvok contradicts her and claims that Vulcans don't do that but when she corrects and says they Miss him he accepts this and admits he misses them too; implying perhaps a pedantic difference between 'Vulcans do not Feel Emotions' (false) and 'Vulcans do not Act Out of Emotion' (accurate) -> 'Miss/Longing' is an emotion, but 'Worry' is an action one does out of emotion -> one Vulcans do; one Vulcans do not.

#N posts stuff #continuation of thoughts from my last post bc i can smell the counterarguments of 'vulcans are not emotional and are #therefore not impulsive and therefore no vulcan child Would run off unattended' which is Wrong #but also a half formulated thought regarding: how often characters will CLAIM that 'vulcans don't do X' and how often #people take that at face value instead of accepting it as like. a character motivated Lie that is being told lol #ie) when Spock claims 'Vulcans don't Have emotions' this is a lie he tells because 1) it's funny to him or 2) this is an Exaggerated #expectation he feels put on him BC other vulcans are more ready to judge his behavior based purely on the knowledge of his #half human genetics -> Spock is forced to hold a Higher standard just to get others to acknowledge they are Minimally equal #ALT: we do Know that Vulcan emotions are deeper/more intense than they visibly show; it doesn't feel Standardized to me that #daily Vulcan culture would DENY the existence of emotions entirely (unless one undergoes Kohlinar which seems to be a Rarer #and more Intense lifestyle Choice SOME vulcans make) bc that Feels like it would be a Lie which wouldn't be Logical to uphold #BUT i Can see conversations About those emotions being one of those things Vulcans keep extraordinarily close to their chest #in Amok Time Spock was ready to Die before he'd tell anyone about a biochemical process his body was experiencing; I can see #emotions as a whole being an almost Equally intimate thing to share w/ outsiders -> hence the 'Vulcans Don't experience emotion' #claim being made in broader Outside society ; you'd talk about it w/ other vulcans but Not with a bunch of humans #(Spock being an arguable Exception to this standard BC of the 'has to uphold a Higher Standard just to be permitted on even ground) #this post is a lot of thinking aloud idk how much coherence there is here but it's fun to think about on many paths

[darkwood-sleddog]

“Ethical breeders have too many expectations placed on them for anybody to want to do it.” *proceeds to explain how expectations should be lowered.

How about no.

#dogblr #dog breeding #I understand the sentiment #bht I actually think the bar needs to be higher for a LOT OF breeders #we can barely get folks to health test dogs let alone temperament test them. #I hold purebred and mix breed dog breeders to the same standard: are you health testing? are your breeding dogs temperamentally stable? #can your dogs do physical activity? do the dogs have the right amount of desire to work for their breed? #anyways. not to be controversial on main but you are not going to get #a majority of breeders doing things responsibly when money breeding is still so prevelant #why would suburban family buy a more expensive but stable dog from breeder A #when they can get a puppy right now in the color they want from breeder B #they don’t care if that dog is stable I hate to say it #the most popular breed in the United States is the French bulldog do you think non dog people care about ethics at all? bc they don’t.

[swiftfootedachilles]

yknow sometimes i watch certain shameless scenes and i really truly do convince myself that mickey is canon trans and/or intersex. perhaps terry is the first person ever to accept trans people but be incredibly homophobic

#there's just certain things that it oddly matches up to #like i know he's cis.......... but maybe he's not🤪🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐 #if we accept that the shameless universe is whacky and stupid then it's absolutely believable that terry holds mickey to a higher #standard than all the other milkovich boys because he was born intersex or maybe is trans!! #listen the show is set is Southside Chicago yet they made it as diverse as rural Appalachia i can headcanon whatever i want

[precambrianhottopic]

idk how to describe it really but its kind of. disheartening? to see the majority of the conversation about transmasculinity on this site revolve around "Are Trans Men Real Transgenders? We Asked Guys Who Think Androphobia is Real and People That Wish the Gender Craze Would Stop Harming our Poor Lesbians"

#apologizing in advance if people are weird on this post. i just have thoughts #plush.txt #transmasc #i do feel genuinely awful a lot of the time for transitioning. i dont mean that in a self pity way i earnestly wish i wasnt like this #the world does not need one more man. i know this and still i continue to exist #i try my best. but its fucking hard #and im sorry!!! i really am. #i dont want pity. i hate being trans and i wish i wasnt but thats my own problem #all we can do is our best and i recognize it is fucking difficult to pass without reinforcing the patriarchy #but we HAVE to hold ourselves to a higher standard and not just redo the same discourse for the eight millionth time #sorry for the rant. i have big feelings

[chiefguideandcentre]

Why is it that the good employees (always on time, do what they are supposed to do, make an effort, actually show up to work) are always shit on and the bad employees (who don’t try, don’t care, leave their coworkers out to dry, and don’t even show up half the time) seem to always be praised and face zero consequences for their actions? If I just decided to not show up I would be fired, but this other girl faces no consequences ever, It’s bullshit

#is it because excellence is expected from the hood employees? therefore it’s taken for granted? #like the second a hood employee screws up or us late or whatever it’s like suddenly there’s hell to pay #god forbid I’m late due to traffic #which is completely outside my control #in my specific situation the coworker is my bosses niece so you can imagine the absolute bulkshit that occurs here #comes and goes as she pleases #half the time doesn’t even show up #constantly bringing in her kids even though other employees in the past have tried that and they are immediately sent home #like just be fair #why is that so hard? #you should be holding your niece to a higher standard bc she’s your niece #but no #instead the rest of us have to pick up her slack #god forbid I take a half day #not even a whole day! #half #and you get the boss emailing clients like we would be able to get this done if I could get my employees to come yo wogg to k #like excuse me??? excuse fucking me? #im here more than the boss the 2bd boss and their niece combined! #you have no right to say something like that unless you are here all day every day too and you are not #hold everyone to the same god damn standards and then you can bitch about attendance but until then #shut your mouth #the nerve!

[prolibytherium]

Really hard to come back to Online and the style of engagement in lgbt+ spaces here bc its so needlessly aggressive and hierarchical and does not prepare you to engage in irl communities at all. Youre taught to feel like every uncomfortable interaction, any cultural exchange or dispersal, etc is an act of violence and exploitation, that anything that makes you personally uncomfortable deserves your righteous anger, etc.

I prefer the company of other trans people but cisness is not an intrinsic quality or something that means anything outside of the cultural context we exist in (and that context varies by place). A cis person is not intrinsically incapable of understanding us, or separate from us. It is not a coherent social class or objective type of person (nor is any oppressor class really, but some are more structurally extant and well defined than others).

The cis acquaintance or family member who is genuinely trying but a little confused and asking questions isnt an enemy violently extracting your emotional labor, sometimes the dynamic is just two human beings trying to understand each other. It can be awkward and uncomfortable but thats not necessarily a bad thing. Not to be a cis rights activist but expecting allies to not ask questions and just go belly up and say ‘yes master i am Listening To Trans Voices’ to everything we say is self destructive imo. A good ally can think for themselves………

#more venting than anything else. its bothered me for a while and i hate to have been #a part of this sort of behavior #also on the less important level its also stuff like ‘cis people can write trans characters BUT only if they dont go in depth’ or w/e #like im going to expect a cis writer to not be a transphobe and maybe hold them to a #higher standard than other trans people but like. fucking go for it? please write trans people. we are not a #special different kind of human that are beyond your comprehension.

[strawberry-crocodile]

Im gonna take a swing at rephrasing this one. If you are not yourself transfeminine but are genuinely worried about "transfem seperatism", the best thing you can do to stop it is to make sure that you and the queer spaces you inhabit are welcoming to transfems- loud transfems, big transfems, kinky transfems, transfems who may not look like what you think they should. Check your biases, notice how many trans women actually stick around and act comfortable in your friend groups or game nights or clubs. Notice how you treat them. Ask yourself if you're holding them to a higher standard and quick to believe they're an aggressor or predator. And be ready to change your behavior to make your space safer for them.

If that sounds like too much work or like it's not your problem, then you have no right to complain when we pack our things and leave.

#blogodile #tme ppl #transfem separatism

[merrinla]

Portrait spamming

Recent discovery. If you click on the portraits of the characters like crazy, they will react to it. And the developers had a lot of fun coding these reactions xD

Tav / Dark Urge

normal - I'm awake! Mostly. - I'm starting to get a headache. - Must be the tadpole. - Quit knocking around in there! - A thousand needlepricks in my rotten skull.

combat -Ahhhhhhhh! Okay, I feel better. - I have an itch in the worst place. - Is being a mind flayer so bad? - Just waiting to venture forth here. - I'm maiming as fast as I can!

stealth - What's that ticking? - Is it me? Am I ticking? - Bomb in my head about to go off. Great. - Ah, well. I had a good run.

Astarion

normal - Why do beautiful people taste better? It hardly seems fair on the ugly - they have such wonderful personalities. - Ugh. Strahd wouldn't put up with this shit. - More like Drizzt Don't'Urden - no. No that's not funny. - Villains! Dissemble no more, I admit the deed! Tear up the floor - here, here! It is the beating of his hideous hea- oh, no, that's his brain. Where did I leave that heart?

combat: - I'm trying to focus on murder. - *Humming.* - I shot a svirfneblin in Menzoberranzan just to watch him die. - I should've been a drow. They have such stylish armour.

stealth - Shhh. Just think sneaky thoughts. - Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP. - Be very, very quiet - I'm hunting idiots. - I've got a brand new torture chamber, so come and play with me.

Karlach

normal - NOTE TO ACTOR/DIRECTOR: Blow a raspberry at the player. - Don't. Poke. The Karlach. - Who am I? - My eye!

combat - Eyes on the prize - we need to win this! - Not every soldier should've made it out of training. - Eyes on victory, tummy on dinner. - I ought to just burn this whole thing down.

stealth - My back can't take much more of this. - Not now, I'm being a sneak! - I'm getting too old for this nonsense. - I'm not built to crouch.

Gale

normal - I hope Halaster takes good care of Tara while I'm away. - Sembian wine; Cormyrian boar; Waterdhavian conversation. It's the little things you miss while on the road. - Oh, what a tangled Weave we web! - All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.

combat - Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails. - Don't make me go all Edwin Odesseiron on you. - Get. Out. Of. My. Head. - I really wish I could cast a Hold spell on you.

stealth - You made me hide, don't make me come seek you. - Gods, it's like trying to sleep with a mosquito in the room. - A little privacy please. - Stop it - that tickles.

Wyll

normal - Could do for a brew. - Where there's a 'Wyll', there's a 'y'. - Ever get the sense that someone's watching? - So two halflings walk under a bar...

combat - Can't hear myself think! - Wear your scars proudly. - As my father once told me: 'Can we get on with it?' - I find moderation is key.

stealth - Bad time for an itch. - Could do for a brew. - So two halflings walk under a bar... - Shush. No, really. Shush.

Lae'zel

normal - Must everyone be so exhausting? - Weapons high. Standards higher. - Is perfection too much to ask? - Pride is a virtue.

combat - I will know my queen! - There is no right or wrong, only truth. - What is the point, if not victory? - You are right to fear me.

stealth - Hush already. - There is no wisdom in madness. - Is perfection too much to ask? - There is but one way. Vlaakith.

Shadowheart

all modes - I wonder how I'll feel when I remember everything. - Strange. I've had more freedom this past while than my whole life... - Have to keep focused. Can't afford to get attached - to anyone. - If I succeed, maybe I'll be allowed a pet... ugh, stop being silly.

Halsin / his voice is currently bugged :(

normal - What I would not give for a chunk of fresh honeycomb... - Such attention... I never realised I was so popular. - Are you feeling lonely, perhaps? - Unwise, perhaps, to poke a bear this much...

сombat - Battle is afoot - you can poke me once we are safe. - Perhaps try attacking the enemy? - Admirable stamina, yet terrible priorities. - You are insistent, are you not?

stealth - Most consider it unwise to poke a bear. - My, you are eager, are you not? - Please. I am trying to be stealthy. - Calm yourself. There is plenty of me to go around.

Jaheira

normal - Oh, calm down. I'm happy to see you too. - I would poke you back, but I fear that's what you want. - My, such strong wrists. - Well you certainly have the 'omnipresent' part down, don't you? - Please go poke the ranger instead.

combat - You have my attention - now do something with it. - What? What do you want!? - Do you know, I begin to wish they had never brought me back. - Yes, yes, have your fun. It isn't you they're trying to kill.

stealth - Dry those sweaty palms and let us try this again, shall we? - Argh, my knees! Oh. It was a twig. - Would that I could hide from you, too. - Careful, or I will take your toy away from you.

Minsc

normal - ARGH! My EYE, Boo! They went for my EYE! - Know that if you poke Boo, no higher dimension will keep you safe! - Heehee. Heeheeheehee. - Well, Boo? How do you want to do this?

сombat - Are you perchance a squeaky wheel in need of a kick? - I am armed! Armoured! And entirely sick of your foolishness. - I begin to grow annoyed. It is well for you that Boo does not let me learn the bad words! - Ignore them, Boo. Let them gaze deep into their own abyss, and wonder just what it is they are trying to achieve.

stealth - A little to the left? But not so hard you make me giggle. - Boo...? Are you dancing down there, or...? - Hush! I am surprising Boo for his birthday! He is... uh... eh... how old do hamsters get...? - I am the night. A pity, then, that it is so bright out.

Minthara

all modes - You had my attention, now you have my fury. - Phlar Lolth ssinssrickla. - Your suffering will be spectacular. - Stop, or die.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #karlach #gale #wyll #lae'zel #shadowheart #halsin #jaheira #minsc #minthara #funny stuff #bg3 datamine

[7amaspayrollmanager]

I think what israelis and zionists do well is that they hyperfocus on random discourse and make generalizations that imply that people in solidarity with palestine are ridiculous and stupid. An example is when they jumped on the spotify wrapped discourse that went around: "How stupid pro Palis dont know that this is the time spotify wrapped drops every year." But me, a palestinian, didn't believe that theory nor fucking cared and many of us didnt. Another one theyve been focusing on is the "whos indigenous" discourse. And they conflate the movement for palestine with this meaningless disfourse instead of a movement to...free Palestine

meanwhile they deliberately erase the Palestinian presence in those protests in the discourse. Without palestinians being a literal diaspora, alot of these protests would not have been organized without Palestinians. I can't stand the "westerners are only protesting because they're uneducated" because who's in the west? Palestinians exist in the west. "All these white leftists know nothing" what about Palestinian leftists? We care about our homeland we are organizing to end the colonization and occupations of our homeland. Israelis always dismiss Palestinians in not just their experiences but their literal presence.

It's interesting because they hold themselves to a higher standard so anyone disagreeing with them just doesn't know what they know and theyll claim things like "only Palestinians and Israelis can speak about Palestine" but dismiss all palestinian perspectives that directly contradict their "knowledge" as anti semitic.

[aemondsbabe]

Come What May

summary: aemond gets his first true taste of battle, you comfort him in the aftermath.

pairing: aemond targaryen x baratheon!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, reader is described as having long black hair to suit baratheon standards but no other physical descriptors are used, spoilers, mentions of canon character injury but no gore, angst, breast/nipple play, fingering, oral (f receiving), piv sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, slight breeding kink, slight possessive aemond, soft aemond, vulnerable aemond, we love men who cry

word count: 5.8k

a/n: i've had this idea in my head for the longest time and i think it turned out much more delicious than i was expecting! hope you all enjoy!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

gif creds to @aemondtargaryensource

divider creds to @targaryen-dynasty

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“My love, surely Ser Criston can hold his own,” you plead, wringing your hands nervously as your husband reads from the small scroll that was delivered to your chambers only moments ago, “It’s already been days, surely if they were going to retaliate, they would’ve done so by now.”

“We made the mistake of underestimating my sweet sister and her traitorous lot once before,” Aemond sighs, lilac eye scanning over the rolled parchment once more before before holding a corner of it to one of the many dripping wax candles housed on the small desk in your rooms, “It’s an error we can never afford to make again, not after what happened to little –” The muscles in his jaw clench as he cuts himself off with another harsh sigh, tossing the burning paper into a small metal bowl before turning to you. 

“It’s an official summons,” he continues, voice softer now as he swiftly crosses the room until he stands before you. “I can’t simply ignore the Hand, nor my brother,” he murmurs, pulling a sigh from your lips as his hands wrap around your waist. You let your eyes slip closed for a moment when he leans down and presses a sweet kiss to the top of your head before resting his forehead against yours, your own hands gripping tightly to the front of his black tunic. 

“I understand,” you say softly, swallowing thickly as you try to ignore the tightness at the back of your throat, a million unsettling what if’s playing in your mind's eye, “I just want you to come b-back to me.” 

Upon hearing the break in your voice, Aemond pulls away with a tight smile. “Shh, little wife,” he whispers, gently wiping at the corner of your eyes as tears begin to gather, “I will return to you, I swear it.”

A slight flush covers the apples of your cheeks as you peer up at him, still so cautious of being weepy and emotional so soon into your marriage despite the prince’s many assurances that he was more than happy to have you exactly how you are. After a moment, you manage to blink the tears from your eyes and steady your breath, giving your husband a reassuring nod just as the doors open and a flood of servants and squires rush in to assist Aemond with his armor. 

Leaving them be, you step out onto the balcony of your chambers, grateful for the cooling breeze rolling in from Blackwater Bay. Resting your hands atop the rough stone wall, you gaze out over the calm waters, watching as the sun rises and paints them in shades of orange and pink. Each time you spot a stray seagull, your heart clenches tightly in your chest – worried for a moment that it’s Meleys and her rider, come to finish what they started at Aegon’s coronation. 

You startle as rough hands wrap around your middle from behind, a small gasp leaving you as your eyes pop open, seeing the sun a bit higher in the sky now before you look over your shoulder. 

“Dare I ask where your pretty head was?”

“Praying,” you answer your husband with a smile, turning in his grasp, “Asking the Seven to protect you, to bring you back to me in one piece.” 

Chuckling, Aemond tenderly cups your jaw with one hand, the smooth leather of his glove soft against your skin. “I assure you they will,” he says, dipping his head and kissing you with a small sigh, the metal plate armor on his torso cool against your skin, even through the fabric of your nightgown. “I do not fear this battle, sweetling, not with Vhagar at my side – she has more years of experience fighting in wars than either of us could dare imagine, many more than that old cunt or her beast. I trust her to know what’s right.”

Nodding, you follow him inside, a small smile on your lips while you listen to him talk about his dragon, finding endless amusement in the way he always speaks of her with such reverence. The two of you stand together in the low, flickering light of the many candles in your chambers, the early morning light from the drawn curtains casts faint shadows across the room as you look over your husband, unused to seeing him in true armor. 

“I suppose you’re ready, then?” You ask, glancing over the fine black plates, each custom made to hug his lithe form perfectly. 

“Almost,” he says, the corners of his lips quirk into a small smile in the same instance that familiar, mirthful glimmer takes residence in his eye. 

“Oh?” You question, already familiar with where this is going; the smile on your lips only grows as he takes your hand and leads you over to your vanity table by the wardrobes. 

“Braid my hair,” he says, always one to keep his requests of you simple, “As you do before I go riding… please.”

It’s the small please that always gets you, a courtesy Aemond so rarely bestows upon others. With a small nod, you watch as he sits on the small silk-covered chair, his lilac eye watching you from the mirror as you lean forward to grab the ornate metal hairbrush Alicent had gifted you after your wedding to her son. 

Meeting his eye in the mirror once more, you give him a small smile before focusing on his hair. You run the brush through the pale, silky strands with a practiced ease; before you, the prince hadn’t dared to let anyone do his hair, and was quick to snap at any of the servants if they tried. But with you, he was quite different – much more vulnerable behind closed doors than many would expect. 

Glancing up in the mirror as you brush through his long hair, the smile returns to your lips when you see his eye closed, a small sigh leaving his lips as he allows himself to relax for a moment more. It’s easy to fall into a rhythm in the quiet of the early morning, your hands steady as you run the fine brush through section after section of hair, humming a song to yourself as you go. 

Finally, you set the brush back down and carefully section off a lock of hair at one of his temples, already knowing how he usually preferred it be styled. Just as you have it separated into three sections, however, one of his hands closes around yours and you lift your eyes up to his in the mirror.

“Is something the matter?”

“No, no,” he replies softly, his one eye glancing away from you, almost nervously, “I simply have a favor to ask of you, my lady. Something I’ve been unable to get off my mind, not since the threat of war became real.”

“Ask it, then.”

With a small sigh, Aemond turns in the chair, moving to face you as he takes your hands once more, calloused thumbs rubbing gently over the backs of them. “I know it is a strange request but… I would like a lock of your hair, sweet one, to braid into my own.”

Your brows knit together at his words, having not expected a request such as that, and your head tilts to the side questioningly, “I see no problem with doing it, but may I ask why?”

“I am not a superstitious man, as you well know,” he starts, smiling when you nod along with his words, “However, I have come to think of you as a good luck charm, of sorts.”

“A good luck charm?” You echo, a little blush coloring your cheeks as a shy smile tugs at your lips, your heart racing at the thought of being something so precious.

Aemond squeezes your hands and nods, “These past few moons have been difficult, between my brother adjusting to the crown and everyone else shuffling about, and the horrors that my sweet sister endures, little Jaehaerys, the numerous threats from Dragonstone, everything, I…” He pauses, brows furrowing as he stares at the stone floor, jaw clenched. 

Your heart clenches in your chest as you raise a hand to his cheek, thumb stroking over the scarred skin just below his sapphire eye, the sight of it mystical to you even after so many months spent with him. Studying his face, you can’t help but notice the darkness under his eyes, a product of the many restless nights he’s faced, though a small sad smile claws at your lips as he leans into your touch – eye closing briefly as he savors it, practically purring like a housecat. 

“Your presence has been the only thing that brings me comfort,” he murmurs finally, lilac eye peering up at you as he makes no move to lean away from your touch, “I find my spirits lift when I’m around you – your touch, your sweet scent, they… they calm my mind, steady my heart.”

“Oh, Aemond,” you breathe, heart racing in your chest at his words. 

“I would like a piece of you with me always,” he continues, lilac eye brimming with sincerity, “To calm me when you’re away.”

You’re nodding before he can even finish his sentence, “Of course, my love, of course we can do that.” You sniffle, trying your hardest to keep your emotions at bay as the backs of your eyes sting with love-filled tears. 

Again, Aemond watches as you quickly walk over to the small side table where you keep your needlework supplies. Shuffling through the small woven basket they’re stored in, you locate the small scissors used to cut thread and make your way back over to the vanity. 

Bending at the waist a little, you look into the mirror, briefly meeting your husband’s eye again as you select a small lock of hair toward the back of your head, one that will be easily hidden among the rest as it grows back. With practiced motions, you quickly knot the fine strand into a thin braid before getting the scissors as close to your scalp as you dare. You carefully cut away at it until it comes away, the bundle of strands clutched tightly between two of your fingers. 

Returning the scissors to the basket, you grab a small bundle of thread, close to the same dark color of your hair, and return to the prince, quickly tying off both ends of the braid before holding it up with a small smile. 

“Good?”

“Good.”

Quickly taking your place by Aemond, you once again separate a lock of his hair into thirds, adding your own strand to the mix before easily winding them together in a long, silvery braid, the black of your own hair standing out strikingly against your husband’s. Finally, you gather the rest of his hair into its usual half up and half down style, thick braid skirting down one side of his head before joining the rest as you secure it with a thin leather cord. 

“There,” you breathe, stepping back just enough for Aemond to stand, “All done.” 

“Perfect as usual, sweetling,” the prince smiles, tight lipped, “Thank you.” He murmurs, again, a courtesy reserved for you.

“Of course,” you all but whisper, both you and Aemond pausing as you stare at one another, neither of you wanting to say goodbye first. 

You nearly jump out of your skin as a knock interrupts the moment, both of your heads swiveling to the doors of your chambers as they creak open. 

Ser Willis Fell, a member of Aegon’s Kingsguard steps into the room, bowing politely as he addresses you both. “Prince, Princess,” he says curtly, one hand balanced on the pommel of the sword that hangs from his waist, “I apologize for the intrusion, I’ve been instructed to inform the prince that he is to depart for Rook’s Rest immediately – King Aegon is already waiting at the Dragonpit.”

Aemond nods with a heavy sigh, turning back to you. Before he can get a word in, you practically throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as the doors click closed once more. “Please come back to me,” you breathe against the crook of his neck, tightness once again taking residence at the back of your throat as his arms wind around you, one hand rubbing soothingly up and down your back. 

“I will, my sweet girl, I swear it,” he promises lowly, long arms squeezing him to you as tight as he dares, not wanting to bruise your skin against his armor, “I swear upon the Seven I’ll come back, I will not leave you, I refuse.” 

Nodding, your breath catches in your throat as you slip away from him, just enough to angle your face up to his. His eye glances over your face quickly before he presses his lips against yours, both of you desperate to pour as much emotion into the kiss as you can as your lips move together for a moment. 

Finally, he pulls away with a pained sigh, holding your face in his hands. “Avy jorrāelan,” he whispers, the very first Valyrian phrase he taught you. (I love you.)

“Avy jorrāelan tolī, ñuha valzȳrys,” you reply, the practiced phrase coming easily to you after all these months. (I love you too, my husband.)

With one final kiss, Aemond departs, the walk toward your chamber doors seeming like the longest of his life. 

The rest of the day passes by painfully slowly, though you do all you can to entertain yourself. Everything from taking a much longer time than usual to eat meals, forcing yourself to stomach what little you can with your belly in nervous knots, to spending hours walking through the Red Keep’s gardens. 

Which is how you find yourself now, in front of the fire in one of the many ornate sitting rooms, wiling away the time by half-heartedly working on a needlepoint. Alicent sits next to you on the small sofa, restlessly reading over a small stack of letters as Helaena paces, wringing her hands and mumbling to herself under her breath, a common sight following the death of her son. 

With a tired sigh, you put down your embroidery hoop, fingers too sore and overworked to continue. “I just want him to come back,” you mutter, staring vacantly into the fire, “Or to get some word, some update. Just to know.”

“He’ll come back, sweetling,” Alicent murmurs softly, setting the letters aside as she places a comforting hand on your knee, “They both will.” She finishes, glancing over at her daughter with a longing stare, wishing there was anything she could do to ease her pain. 

The both of you sit for a while longer, the navy sky outside growing steadily darker, before Alicent sighs and looks at you with a sad half-smile. “You may as well go to bed, dear,” she says softly, “Staying up worrying won’t do any good.”

Knowing she’s right, you quickly bid her goodnight before taking your leave.

You lay in bed, tossing and turning for a long while, thoughts filled with nothing but your husband, before sleep finally takes you. Even then, it’s not restful, dreams filled with visions of blood and fire, of the sounds of screaming and swords clanging together. 

It isn’t until the wee hours of the night, almost sunrise, that a sound wakes you – clanging again, only soft this time, like metal on stone. 

You blink your eyes open, a little groan leaving your lips as you rub at them with your fists before –

“Aemond!” You breathe, scrambling under the blankets to get to him, nearly toppling off the bed in your haste. 

He makes a small “oof” noise as you throw yourself against his chest, catching you in his arms and holding you tightly. “Careful, love,” he laughs softly, letting his eye slip closed as he kisses the top of your head, breathing in the familiar lavender scent of your hair. 

“You came back,” you breathe, winding your arms around his waist as you kneel at the edge of the bed, knees digging into the plush mattress. Upon hugging the prince, you come to realize that the small clanging noise that woke you had to have been him quickly untying his plate armor and stripping off his chainmail, leaving him in a soft tunic and pants – the aforementioned garments lying haphazardly on the floor, their sheen reflected somewhat in the dim glow of the fire. 

“Of course I did,” he murmurs, stroking a hand over your back, “I swore I would, didn’t I?”

The two of you fall easily into a comfortable silence, arms wrapped securely around one another as the only noise in the room is the sound of soft breathing and the crackling from the hearth. You can’t help but notice that Aemond smells smokey, much like he does after riding on Vhagar but stronger now, no doubt having been around dragon fire for hours. 

After a moment, you peer up at him, eyes finally adjusted to the low light. When you do, you can’t help the small, pitying little gasp that leaves your lips and one hand rises to gently cup his cheek. You’re no stranger to seeing him after a long day training in the yard with Ser Criston, but this is wholly different. 

In the pale light, you could make out small dark splotches on his face and neck and upon skirting your thumb over one on his cheek, you come to realize it’s remnants of ash, staining not only his skin but the bits and pieces of his tunic and pants that weren’t covered by armor as well. His hair was still fixed how you’d left it, though messier now – windswept and slightly dusty as well, many of the white strands stained a faint grey, the flash of black from your own braid still cutting through the paleness of his like a knife. 

But what really stopped you was his eye, his lilac one; you frown when you notice the uneasy look in it, full of a bitter sadness. “My sweet husband,” you say softly, brows furrowing when you notice a few scant tear stains on his cheek, their paths carved through the spots of ash, “What happened? What did they do to you?” You question, heart racing at the thought of the horrors he must’ve seen – his first real taste of battle.

The prince gazes at you for a long second, his lips parting as one of his hands comes to rest at the nape of your neck, fingers threading through your hair. All at once though, the sadness in his eye changes to a familiar fire, one that makes your heart race for an altogether different reason and desire curls in your belly, coming to rest like a cat in a sunbeam. 

“Aemond?” You question, blinking up at him. Suddenly, his lips are on yours, hot and insistent and you’re all too eager to comply, easily melting against him. A whimper leaves your lips, instantly swallowed by his mouth as it moves against yours. 

The kiss is more teeth and tongues than anything else, your husband’s slipping against yours with a practiced ease. His hand threads more harshly through your hair, making you moan against his lips as your hands cling tightly to the dark fabric of his tunic, a growl reverberating under them as it emanates from his chest. 

“Need you,” he breathes raggedly as his lips part from yours, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your jaw and to your neck. You shudder against him as his teeth nip gently at your skin before his lips suckle at it gently, painting bruises on your throat that match the many he surely has. 

“But –” you start, a myriad of questions swirling in your mind despite the pleasure threatening to blot them out. 

You’re stopped mid sentence as Aemond suddenly cups one of your breasts, palming eagerly at the tender flesh in a way he knows makes your head spin and don’t miss the ghost of a victorious smirk on his lips at the way you cut yourself off with a small, shuddered moan, squirming in his hold as his thumb skirts over your nipple through the thin fabric of your nightgown. 

“Please, sweet one, I need this,” he mumbles, voice muffled against your neck. His hand at the nape of your neck slips down to wrap around the small of your back, arching you against him, “I need you, I need to feel… t-to feel something good again.”

Once more, you’re nodding before he can even finish his request, chest heaving as you fight to keep your eyes open, wanting to keep him in your sights as if he may disappear again if you don’t. “Then take me,” you sigh, a broken moan leaving your lips as he kisses down your neck and across your chest. The hair at the back of your neck raises on end as he mouths over the fat of your breast, dampening the front of your nightgown.

Both of your hands claw desperately at the back of his head, tangling into his long hair messily just as his lips close around your nipple. “Gods!” You cry as he suckles at it needily, still pawing at the other one, savoring the feel of it in his hand. 

Just as your thighs begin squeezing together, your center aching, Aemond pulls away, smirking when you whine. Impatient as ever, he quickly pulls at your nightgown, tugging it up and over your head, and tosses it onto the floor with his armor – delicate silk pooling over hard metal – before quickly undoing his tunic, eye glimmering proudly at how you always stare at him with such reverence. 

“Fuck,” he growls, hands descending passionately against you once more, one again kneading at your breast as the other slides against your hip, long fingers digging into the fat of your ass, “You get more beautiful every time I see you.” He whispers against your lips, strands of silver hair falling loose from his braid and fanning around his face. 

His lips press against yours once more, teeth teasingly nipping at your lower lip as your nails dig into his shoulders and chest, anxious for more even as you blush at his words. Always one to please, the prince wastes no time in trailing kisses back over your neck, pausing to nip and suck once again at his marks from earlier, needing to see remnants of himself on your delicate skin.

Again, he traces a bath down across your chest before licking over your nipple, needing to give attention to the breast he’d missed earlier. His tongue laves over it greedily and you moan at the feel of his length, hard and hot against your lower belly even through the cotton of his trousers. 

Just as his teeth nip softly at your taut bud, the hand on your hip shifts toward your center, making your breath catch in your throat. Suckling at your nipple once more, Aemond gently runs his fingers through your already dripping folds, pulling a loud, whiny whimper from you as his lips curl into a smirk, a pleased hum radiating against your breast. 

“Husband, please,” you whine, finding your voice once more as he rests his forehead against yours, chuckling at your cries. 

“Seems I’m not the only one that needs this, hm?” He teases, eye glancing over your face as his fingers lightly rub against your aching bud, your breaths mingling together. 

“A-Always need you,” you say breathily, your hips moving of their own accord as he plays with you, your own hands clutching at him like an anchor, “I’ll always, fuck! I’ll always need you, Aemond.” 

He feels his heart skip in his chest at that and once again grows restless, the need to have you, to feel nothing but you burns through him like fire. Distantly, in the back of his mind, he thinks how the sincerity in your tone reminds him of your wedding vows, whispered to him in the Sept as if the two of you were the only people in the universe – how he wishes that were true. 

With a grunt, he presses his lips harshly against yours once more before leaning forward, pressing himself over you until you have no choice but to buckle and fall to your back against the bed. Unable to think of anything else, he wastes no time in kneeling at the side of the bed, knees against one of the many fur rugs dotted over the floors of your chamber. 

A squeal leaves your lips as the prince clutches at your ankles and pulls you toward him, until your ass is nearly hanging off the edge of the bed. A breathy whimper leaves you as you peer down at him, resting back on your elbows as your teeth bite into your lower lip. 

Your hips buck as Aemond kisses up your thighs, long hair tickling your soft skin, and you whine as he licks at the curve where your thigh and center meet. A breath leaves him as he uses his thumbs to part your folds, licking his lips at how your arousal already coats them, wetness catching in the dim light of the fire. 

“The Stranger himself wouldn’t be able to tear me from this,” your husband murmurs lowly, nearly growling as he glances between your face and your dripping heat like a starving man looking over a feast. 

With a groan, he finally dives in, moaning nearly as loud as you do as he greedily mouths at your cunt, tongue licking harshly over you from bottom to top. Every muscle in your body seems to seize as lightning bolts of pleasure crackle up and down your spine. 

Your head flops back against the bed as Aemond licks and suckles at your folds, burying his face against your center as he licks into you, nose pressed tightly against your pearl. Your fingers tangle into his hair once more, back arching as he groans into your heat, all but fucking you on his tongue as obscene wet sounds echo about the room. 

“Oh Gods, f-fuck,” you whine, hips rutting against his face as the heat in your belly threatens to boil over already. Your eyes roll back as he chuckles against you and licks up to your bud, suckling at it eagerly, making you clench around nothing.

“Gods, you taste good, so sweet,” the prince mumbles against you, lapping at your pearl as he runs two thick fingers through your folds, coating them in your arousal. “I would kill Death himself for this, my love,” he rasps, leaning up to watch the expressions on your face as he presses his fingers into you, impatiently crooking them up in just the way you like, fucking and rubbing them against the sensitive spot within you with practicied ferocity. 

“Please, please, please,” you pant, belly knotting tighter and tighter at his words, the gruffness of his voice, head so clouded you aren’t even entirely sure what you’re begging for. 

Aemond smirks and licks and sucks at your bud for a moment more, savoring every whine and whimper he pulls from you. “Let go, my love,” he murmurs, grinning at the way your heat clenches tightly around his fingers, “Peak, let me feel it.”

You wail as the cord within you breaks, shuddering and babbling the prince’s name again and again as pleasure washes over you, your muscles tensing and relaxing in a dizzying rhythm as he works you through it. You nearly peak again as he groans against you, lips wrapped around your pearl as he suckles, gradually slowing his fingers within you.

Finally, you come down, though the fire within you still burns brightly, still aches for him. You watch through half-lidded eyes as he rises from the floor, lilac eye looking over your disheveled form proudly as white strands of hair cling to his face, still sticky with your arousal. 

His chest heaves as he quickly undoes the ties of his trousers and tugs them off his long, lean legs. He wipes at his lips with the back of his hand as he leans back over you and you whine when you feel the heat of his length pressing against you, trapped between your two bodies, the tip already red and leaking against your belly. 

“You’re so good to me,” he murmurs softly, leaning forward to kiss you as he savors the little gasp that leaves your lips as he reaches down with one hand, positioning his cock at your sensitive entrance, “My perfect, sweet girl.” 

You nod your head, hands cupping his face as he pushes into you. Your mouth falls open in a loud gasp and you tremble in his hold as he presses forward, sheathing himself inside of you completely with a pleased groan. 

“Oh, my love,” you finally pant, savoring the way his length feels within you, pressing against every part of you as he fills you completely, “You feel so good, husband, always so good.” 

He growls at that, the breathiness of your tone making his eye flutter shut as he begins rutting against you, grinding his hips against your own. “You were made for me,” he muses, groaning when you begin kissing over the pale column of his throat, “Made to be mine.”

“For you,” you agree between kisses and licks, heart fluttering at the way his thrusts stutter each time your teeth graze over his skin, “Only for you, my sweet prince.”

Aemond groans above you and settles into a practiced rhythm, thick cock spearing into you again and again as your legs wrap around his hips, holding you to him as if he would ever dream of pulling away. One of his hands rests at the nape of your neck again, holding you against his throat as the other grabs at your waist, marveling at the way your breasts move against his chest, bouncing lightly with each thrust. 

The thought of them full of milk, your belly swollen with his seed, flashes across his mind and he growls low in his chest, cock twitching within you. 

As you squirm beneath him, your husband can tell you’re close, as if the steady pulse of your core around his length wasn’t warning enough. “I would go to war for this cunt,” he groans, locking eyes with you as your foreheads press together once more, “I would burn whole villages to the ground just to have you like this, sweetling.” 

His words cascade over you like lava, making your brows furrow together as you gaze up at him, mouth agape. You all but forget to breathe for a moment before a loud, whining moan tears itself from your lips, chest heaving as you fight for air. 

“A-Aemond, Aemond, Gods,” you babble, legs tightening around his waist as your nails scratch down his back, making him grunt above you. After only a few more thrusts, you break once more, writhing beneath him. 

Distantly, you hear the prince groan and grunt above you as your cunt squeezes around him, determined to hold off his own pleasure long enough to watch you peak once more. 

Finally, unable to hold back any longer, Aemond surrenders to the fire within him and moans, voice breaking, as he lets it consume him. Your eyes flutter open as you feel his cock kick inside you and you watch him, mesmerized, as warmth fills you, his seed adding to the sticky mess between your thighs. 

He collapses against you, hips still rutting against your own in broken, twitching movements as his own high fades. The two of you lay like that for a moment, panting as you catch your breath, until you realize your husband’s shoulders are shaking beneath your hold, his breath coming in unsteady bursts against your neck from where his head rests against your shoulder. 

“My love?” You question, cupping his cheek and bringing his face up just enough to see him. Your heart nearly breaks at the sight of tears pooled in his eye, a few already running down his cheek, “What is it? What’s wrong?” You question, quickly glancing over him, searching for some injury, some source of pain. 

Aemond merely shakes his head and sniffles, blinking to dispel his tears as his cheeks flush – he hates the thought of you seeing him so weak. “I’m… I-I’m sorry,” he chokes out finally, holding you against his body tightly despite his embarrassment. 

Immediately, you shake your head, pressing a hand against his shoulder until he rolls over, pulling you with him. A soft gasp leaves your lips at the feel of his softening length slipping from your drenched folds as he comes to rest on his back, you at his side, one hand across his chest.

“Shhh, husband,” you murmur, cupping his cheek once more as you lean up on an elbow, “You needn’t apologize to me.” He nods, somewhat half-heartedly, at your words and sighs deeply, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows thickly, trying to chase away the tightness at the back of his throat. 

You stay silent for a moment, giving him time to calm down, and let your eyes sweep over his form. Aside from the blotches of ash on his pale skin, and some bruises here and there, he looks nearly untouched. A small smile tugs at your lips despite the situation when you see your lock of hair still wound into his, pale braid practically falling apart by now, most of it pulled free of the leather tie holding it together. 

“What’s happened?” You finally ask once his breathing evens out some, your thumb rubbing soothingly over his cheekbone. 

“Aegon,” he chokes out, jaw clenching once more as tears run down his cheek yet again. 

Your heart clenches as a shot of adrenaline all but knocks the wind from your lungs, “He’s not… h-he didn’t –” You start to question, stopping yourself once Aemond shakes his head.

“No, no,” he confirms, voice ragged and soft as his chest heaves with a sniffle, “Almost, but no.”

“Almost?”

“He… He’s hurt,” Aemond starts, barely a whisper as his eye finally meets yours, “Badly. I don’t… I don’t know what comes next, o-or what to do, what’ll be expected of me, of you –” He mutters, breath picking up as panic rises within him, regretting each time he’d looked at his brother with envy – saw the black crown atop his head, glimmering with red rubies, and thought bitterly that it would suit him better. 

“Shhh,” you breathe once more, draping yourself over him like a blanket and pulling a tired sigh from his lips as your touch immediately slows his racing heart. You run your fingers through his hair, black intertwined with white, and press a soothing kiss to his cheek, “I don’t care what comes next, my love.” 

Your soft words draw his attention and he looks at you, brows furrowed in surprise, “You don’t?”

“Not at all,” you murmur, steeling yourself to be strong for him regardless of the future, “Whatever happens, I shall face it with you. That’s enough for me.”

gen tags: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @imawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @eponaartemisa @trshngyn @brettlovessuckingcocks @alerisc @moonriseoverkyoto @wolfdressedinlace @do-double-g @kennafild @cruelworldlana @mheraxes @eternallyvenus @chaotic-fangirl-blog @simp-hub-bro @badxbabyyy @venchi-cremino

aemond tags: @demirunner @iloveslasher @neithriddle @moneypriestess @anak1nsx @angelinap09

hotd tags: @cuddlejeongin

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fic #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond fanfic #aemond fic #aemond targaryen smut #aemond smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x you #hotd #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fic #hotd smut #hotd x reader #hotd x you #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #ewan mitchell

[miguelhugger2099]

I need soft Miggy so maybe some aftercare with him? Like after a rough fucking session and he makes sure you feel loved

Love Between

started ripping my hair out chewing on iron bars i just KNOW his love language is acts of service like fanfiction isnt enough i need to experience this man in the flesh thank you for the request ! i hope its up to your standards! as alwayssss i can always remake this once my requests open up if you're not satisfied :)

Miguel x Reader, Fluff, Brief mentions of smut, Not proofread, Word Count: 1,361

Miguel tightens his hold on your hips, his teeth buried in your neck while his hips slowly came to a stop. He let go of your neck, his lips brushing against the bite mark he’d given you. He helped you release your legs around his waist, gently placing them back down on the bed. Miguel pulled out of you, pressing soft kisses along your neck and jaw when you whined.

“I’ve got you, mama.” He whispers, his hands gently caressing your thighs to ease the feeling back into your legs. “You did so good.”

You blink up at him, your vision slowly coming back after a dazing session. You could barely feel your body, legs numb and your chest heaving up and down in deep breaths. You feel Miguel’s hands rubbing up and down your waist.

“You okay?” He asks sweetly, pecking your nose and cheeks. You nod and mumble.

“Uh-huh…” You close your eyes, completely drained and spent. Luckily, Miguel had prepared beforehand and grabbed a towel from the nightstand. When you two decided to be a bit more rougher this time around, he knew he had to be prepared to love and pamper you since his stamina was much higher than yours.

He helped spread your legs apart to clean up the cum that had spilled out of you. “Do you want take out or do you want me to cook something?” He asks, taking glances up at you. You mumble your answer that was borderline incoherent but he understood you easily. “Take-out it is.”

Miguel then tosses the soiled towel to the hamper and slides in his boxers. He then scoops you up in his arms and you snuggle in his warmth. He kisses your head and leads you to the bathroom. He plops you down on the toilet and turns on the tub faucet to fill the tub up with warm water.

Miguel takes you in his arms again and helps you inside the warm tub, quickly filling it with bubbles. You gained a bit of your strength back, leaning against him while he cleaned your body up with a nice smelling soap. You looked up at him with a soft smile, watching him work on you with care. He meets your eyes and gives you a small smile of his own. You pucker your lips, a silent plea for a kiss and he chuckles. Leaning down, he meets your lips with his in a tender kiss.

Satisfied, you lean back on him again and play with the bubbles, already starting to feel the effects of the warm water making you sleepy. Miguel’s hands–which were groping and kneading your hips and ass moments before–were gently grazing over the small bruises on your skin. His thumb caressing the bite marks of his teeth and the sore spots where he held onto you desperately. He made sure to massage those specific places, wanting you good as new.

“What do you wanna order? Pizza, some fast food, or maybe something from that small restaurant we go to?” Miguel pulls you out of your sleepy state. He brushes back your hair, his hands wet so some strands get stuck to his fingers.

“Hmmm. I don’t care.” You murmur with a shrug of your shoulders. You reach up to his face, the water dripping off your arms and you cup his cheeks. He gazes down at you lovingly.

“Okay.” He replies. He knows you want something specific.

Miguel runs his hand in the water after a few minutes of cleaning and massaging you. “Alright. The water’s getting cold. I’ll be right back, nena.” He murmurs and kisses you before getting up on his feet and walking out the bathroom. He picks up his phone and places an order at one of your favorite places–one you haven’t had in a minute so he decided to spoil you with it this time.

He heads to the laundry room where warm towels had been sitting in the dryer earlier. He snags one and walks back into the bathroom where his heart stutters seeing you put your hair up with a claw clip. Water droplets down your back and arms, glistening on your neck in the warm lighting.

“Can you stand for me, mama?” He sets the towel aside and offers both his hands for you to take. You nod and take his hands, Miguel hauling you up from the tub and it swishes loudly from the sudden momentum. You step onto the floor mat and Miguel wraps the warm towel around you. You clutch onto the towel and he brings you in his arms. For a few moments, Miguel just holds you in a big warm bear hug, peppering a few kisses to the side of your head.

He picks you up bridal style again, refusing to let you walk, and plops you back into bed. He kisses your forehead and heads off to rummage through your drawers to find you some fuzzy pajamas. You watch him with a smile, your heart swelling as he takes care of you down to the tiniest details. You were clean and loved while Miguel worked hard to make sure you were relaxed.

Miguel comes back with folded pajamas in one hand and your slippers in his other.  He places the slippers down and takes the towel from you to dry off any remaining drops of water. He kneels in front of you to help slip on a clean pair of panties on you as well as the pajama pants. Meanwhile, you picked up the shirt that was from the pile, noticing how it was just Miguel’s shirt and you smiled while putting it over your head.

He looked up at you, his eyes brighter seeing you glow and look cute in his shirt. He takes your hand and kisses it before joining you in bed by wrapping his arms around you and pushing you back on the bed. Miguel snuggled himself back to the crook of your neck and your arms went around his shoulders. He pulls the weighted blanket over you two for extra warmth.

Despite his shirt drowning you in the fabric, his hands ran up and down the sides of your body to feel your skin. “You were great, baby.” He mutters against your skin and you chuckle.

“It was fun. Rate me out of ten.” You smile and curl your fingers in his hair, nuzzling against him. You feel his shoulder shake with the rumble of his deep laugh.

“I’m not rating you. If anything, you should rate me. How did I do? Are you okay? Did everything feel good?” He asks, lifting himself off from your neck and brings a hand up to caress your cheek.

You nod, your eyes sparkling and heart fluttering at the memory. “Really good.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“In the best way possible.”

Miguel playfully bites your cheek and you giggle, turning away from him but he tightens his grip around you to keep you near.

His hands rub up and down your back and you look down to meet his eyes. He moves closer so that your foreheads touch, noses grazing each other. You close your eyes with a soft smile, basking in the presence of Miguel. He keeps his eyes open, admiring the way your eyes flutter under your eyelids, eyelashes long and pretty. He glanced down at the marks on your neck and his hand went down to hold your thigh, bringing it around him. He wondered how many marks would appear in the next twenty four hours.

“I love you.” He whispers and it makes you open your eyes. He’s staring intently up at you, a certain softness to it while he gazes into your soul. You felt vulnerable. He felt vulnerable too. It was moments like this that mattered most.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, shifting yourself so that you could cuddle into his chest. You feel him adjust to the new position, his arms going around your shoulder this time as if protecting you. His hand rises to your hair, his nails gently scratching your scalp.

“I love you more.”

A/N: god if ur real, you'll send miguel o'hara on my doorstep ASAP

#requests ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader

[astroariska]

ASTROLOGY OBSERVATION [Chapter 5] ✨ - The North Node Version

North node represent the new growth we are heading into. So it's very normal if you feel like you are uncomfortable to do everything related your north node chart.

But when you did it, your life starts to change

Once a Virgo north node started to get their fruits smoothies instead of wine, slow cooked meals instead of takeouts and having their schedule wrapped with yoga and pilates ... I swear it's DONE for y'all!

Virgo North Node need to carefully pick wisely who are worth their help. Because sometimes, people go through shit as their own consequences and yet feels like victimized????

I just want you to know that your Scorpio North Node friends is actually wishing changes in their life. They want change. They know that things supposed to change in order to grow. But what all they get is sometimes annihilation, destruction and even violence and that's not a pleasurable change for them.

Stop telling Scorpio North Node to let it go. They don't need them. Start to ask Scorpio North Node what can they do from the ashes. Transformation is the real fear of this placement. They had no idea if it will work or not and most time, they will feel the sorrow of having no idea is their adaptation to the new things is going to be painful or not.

This is the most underated documentary for Leo North Node. But i think Leo North Node is never about fame and get famous. It's more about strength and in general. Most people forget that Leo is a sign that represent fortitude and only highlighting the part of being "famous" and "taking the center stage" which is not true.

Leo North Node people learn to use all of their mental, physicological and soul power to cope with whatever life has thrown to them. They need to understand they have fight for their right instead giving it away to people (and this is when the fame and luxury come from, from finding what's already yours)

Pisces North Node and the art of letting go. It's not like they are holding into things that makes them uncomfortable. But it's learning that sometimes you can't fix what was broken from the first time. That life is imperfect, flawless and sometimes vague in it's own way and what they need to do is; just keep swimming.

Also, this north node need more sleep than other people. Sleep is the way they will gain productivity and mental clarity. Enough sleep provides them power to do the right things everyday.

Sagittarius North Node and the faith. It's not like they need to stick into one religion. But it's more like they need to hold the higher moral code and standard over a shortcut. Of course, you will outsmart anything. But this life calls your integrity and your morality as human being. Life ask your wisdom. So always be wise.

Sagittarius North Node is also a placeement that speak the law of assumtion and the law of attraction. So, positive mindset is needed because things will manifest easily with positive mind.

Aries North Node, y'all so angry. But what if i told you that life demands your action and not your insight? This is the north node that ask you to be the first who doing the impossible, the first who doing the things that nobody did it in the first place. You know what you need to do, so it takes courage to turn the table.

Aries North Node also have a knack to relieve after ... yes, cursing. Cuss some bomb and shit till it feels easy and lightweight again.

Taurus North Node. This is the most bitter north node that i've encountered because this north node is about self dignity and respect. They need to uproot themselves from what people has taught them to act and start building the strong boundaries and foundation for their own life.

No, Taurus North Node. This is not your time to be the biggest enemy of yourself. Because how people treat you, depends on how you TREAT YOURSELF.

Gemini North Node and equality. They are the type who need to understand that their difference and diversity doesn't mean that someone is in higher or lower class. So treat people equal and treat yourself as equal too. Treat the waitress over the restaurant the same respect like you treat the politician on their office.

Also Gemini North Node. STOP FIGHTING WITH YOUR NEIGBOURS AND BROTHERS/SISTERS. They will unlock you some good things in the future. So stay your COOL.

Capricorn North Node's pressure. In this lifetime, life wants you to be the authority figure of your own, so it's understable that you'll disappointing some people who love you and taken care of you. In turns, you'll see that sometimes loves and cares is form of emotional manipulation to prevent you from the growth you need. Don't get easily swayed by the fake love.

With the most respect. Get your shit together, Capricorn North Node. People tend to manipulate you because they can take adventage from you and rob something from you. Don't let them mess your kindness as a weakness.

Aquarius North Node need to take off some privilege they have in this lifetime and be the one who's responsible for greater duty. Responsibility and duty is unavoidable in this lifetime so make sure you handle them with care and love for humanity (people around you). You can't expect life is pleasure because only through the struggle, you'll understand how pleasure is priceless.

I will give some warning for you, Aquarius North Node. If you still feeding your ego, you'll become the public enemy. I've seen this placement falls down and rise up because their community is wishing them to. Make sure that people only wishing you the best so you could manifest easily.

Libra North Node need for the partnership in this lifetime has nothing to do with being in relationship. But being in the middle of the change. Most people in this north node will make the most life changing decision and partnership helps them to keep relate into the change they have made. Relationship happens when you are in the commitment in the change with someone who willing to helps you through thin and thick. So choosing the right partner means choosing the right person to change and evolve together.

No, Cancer North Node. Being in control and having your guard up doesn't mean success. Success to you is a sense of security to feel whatever you want to feel and everytime you want to feel. Your job, your salary and your social status doesn't define you. It's your warmth, present and personality that roots you deep for who you are that matters the most.

RELEASE YOUR JOB IF YOU ARE UNHAPPY AND UNDERPAID, CANCER NORTH NODE. DROP IT until they found that YOU ARE WORTH THEIR RESPECT.

#aries north node #astro notes #astrology #astro note #astrology observations #astro observations #taurus north node #gemini north node #cancer north node #leo north node #virgo north node #libra north node #scorpio north node #sagittarius north node #capricorn north node #aquarius north node #pisces north node #north node #north node in signs

[webslingingslasher]

what’s peters body count?🫣

boyfriend!frat!peter 🤭

‘what’s your body count?’

peter freezes, he’s not opposed to the previous partners talk when it comes to being safe and healthy. but the number thing… he doesn’t see how it’s useful.

‘don’t worry, i have all the clean screenings.’ he tries to swerve around the question, you won’t let him. ‘no, i get that. we’ve talked about it before. but, how many people have you hooked up with?’

peter knows the frat boy stereotype, he may have even played into it for a little while. but he doesn’t want you to see him like that, he doesn’t want you to think of him as a womanizer or pig.

‘um,’ he wants to say a different number than the one in his head, he wants to preserve what you think of him. ‘does it matter?’

you tap your fingertips over his ribcage, ‘i guess not. i’m just curious.’ peter’s tracing circles around your shoulder, ‘cool.’

you wait, it seems like he took your response as an opportunity to stay silent. something about his hesitance makes you feel icky.

‘not gonna share?’ peter thought your answer meant the conversation was over, apparently not. ‘is there a reason you’re asking?’

you pat his skin, giving him a second notice before sitting up. ‘not really, but now you’re being all coy, i want to know.’

‘yeah, but i’m your boyfriend now. it shouldn’t matter.’ your eyebrows furrow. ‘it doesn’t. but hiding it makes it matter.’

‘i’m not hiding anything.’ except he is.

‘you are. i want to know. right now.’ peter’s looking off to the side, you can see through his invisible wall, he’s embarrassed. ‘peter, i’m not gonna judge you or anything. i’m just curious.’

‘you are. you totally are and i don’t want you to see me as different. i was a different person before i met you, and who i was before shouldn’t matter now.’

you nibble on your bottom lip, ‘it’s either really low or really high based on what you’re giving me.’ peter’s silent, you’re thinking it’s on the higher side.

‘more than ten?’

more silence. ‘more than fifteen?’

you don't know how high to go. ‘twenty five?’

‘lower, but not by much.’

you stare at him. peter stares back. he’s expecting you to drop your face and turn away, call him a manwhore and spit in his face. he’s not expecting the sweeping grin that takes place.

‘is that why you’re so good in bed? hefty experience?’

‘i wouldn’t know, you’re the only one i ever put effort into.’

you bat your eyes at him, a pout takes over while you try to calm the urge of attacking him with kisses. insecurity flushes over you, ‘were they... were they all just one night stands?' there it is, that's what peter was waiting for.

your actual name is said, drawn out like you were playing a dangerous game. 'it's just that, i mean, am i enough for you?' peter feels his chest tighten, if he could, he'd take back every night he ever spent with a girl that wasn't you.

'why would you ask me that?' you feel hidden in peter's arms, they're around you and there's a kiss on your forehead. 'of course you're enough for me. you're more than enough, you always have been.'

'i don't think i can compete with that many girls and-'

'you're not. there is no competition, and there never was.' you shake your head, 'liar. you were still hooking up with other girls when we started hooking up.'

you're a little shocked by peter's rough hold, you're staring up at him with wide eyes when he talks down to you. 'is that what you think? have you always thought that?'

it's not what you think, it's what you know. 'you said-' peter cuts you off, 'i said bullshit. i talked to other girls, maybe flirted a little, but i never had sex with anyone else. trust me, i wouldn't fuck up like that.'

peter was right, there was no competition. because you won first and only place the second you stepped foot into his bedroom. 'wait, does that make me the competition? like, if we break up i'm the standard for you?'

'i mean... yeah, i kind of love you a whole lot.' this time, you don't hold back on your attack of kisses. 'i made you change your rules. i win.'

peter disagrees. 'no, i won.'

#frat!peter drabbles