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soapybutt17 · 2 months

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Too Sweet For Me

Summary: It was the annual Military Ball, the fifth one since you and John have been married in secret. With his new promotion as Captain, meant a whole ball park of responsibilities he was still getting used to—but nothing gets to him more than the mere sight of you, his beautiful darling in the dress he always loves. It was also something to prepare for with the new changes that came to this year’s ball. Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. Kate Laswell. Word Count: 2,190 Chapter Warnings: None. Author's Note: this was also supposed to be for @glitterypirateduck's O'Captain challenge but my appendix had other plans for me this past few days. Lol.

Inspired by this song (obviously)

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“Darling.” You couldn’t help but smile at your husband’s pained groan.

With a red backless dress, you know you would turn heads with your outfit and even more certain that your husband would be killing a few men if you weren’t too careful about him.

“Behave.” You pulled away from him as soon as you felt his hands hold onto the small of your exposed back. You turned to face him, seeing him so handsome in his ceremonial uniform, an upgrade since his new promotion.

“I don’t think I can see myself behaving with you looking so ravishing.” He muttered approaching you again and pulling you into another kiss, allowing him this one time since you have yet to put your make up on. “Will this be a problem for tonight?” He playfully warned.

“If you keep your hands to yourself it won’t.” You playfully pointed out pecking him on the lips one last time before turning your attention back to your vanity mirror to put on your makeup. “I’m surprised that you actually plan on coming to this year’s event. I’d expect you to just stay home after the last mission.” You pointed out.

Behind the bravado and the handsome uniform your husband had on, was a broken but healing man that just got back from a mission. A few scrapes and bruises you all know too well were hidden perfectly well, but the black eyes was something that would take more than an ice pack and makeup to actually cover.

“Better to be there to see what those muppets have planned.” He grumbled.

You had accidentally let it slip that there was going to be an auction for this year’s event and you had volunteered to be part of the auction. A simple date that you were certain meant absolutely nothing but it was for a great cause and you couldn’t really fault them with.

Your husband was still apprehensive about the fact, especially knowing that no one was made aware of your relationship to each other. Everyone was given the fact that you were both good friends that had been on countless missions together. It was nothing but friendship between the two of you if you were ever spotted in town together even when the both of you knew it was something more.

“It’s just one date, even Kate is joining along.” You tried your best to reassure him but it wasn’t happening whatsoever with the deep frown resting on his lips.

“Just because I agreed to this doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.” He muttered under his breath, finally resigning by your decision, which you were thankful for. No need for you to try to convince him with anything.

“You owe me for this. I need some kind of motivation for tonight not to blow someone’s head.” He muttered.

And you spoke too soon.

“How about a day or two in that ritzy cabin you’ve been pestering me about for weeks now.” You offered.

One thing you truly hated was being too out of touch with society if you could avoid it. You have to do it for work, you weren’t so keen on doing it in your personal time if you didn’t have to. But your husband just was a recluse when he wants to be and this was one of those many instance that he will have his way.

“Deal and the ring stays on so they know you’re mine.” He muttered.

You smiled, lifting your hand up for him to see the sparkle of your engagement and wedding ring still nestled on your finger. Even without him saying it, you wouldn’t even dream of removing it.

The newly promoted Captain John Price should have been at the top of the world because of his new title, but it was far from the reality of it as he watched his beloved wife continue to mingle amongst both officials and fellow soldiers. It still shook him to the core how someone like you could command yet bring comfort to anyone that was privileged to be in your presence.

But that was just what made him love you so much. How someone like you, a Lieutenant to his own position as a Sergeant would never once use your position to demean him or treat him as anything less than you were. Some may say your call sign as Rookie to be an insult, a way to make you less than what you truly were, but you proved time and time again that it was a reassurance to anyone lower than you that you will stand on equal footing as them if the need arises especially on missions.

“Rookie’s already stealing the spotlight.”

John turned his attention to one unfortunate woman he had the misfortune of meeting in his life that turned his whole world upside down. Kate Laswell was an intelligent woman—far too much for her own good at times but she was the best of the best in her line of work. She was one of the main reasons why he was placed in a mission that ended with him finally climbing the ranks.

“As she should.” John agreed, subtle in his comments as to avoid anyone, especially Laswell from thinking anything was going on between the two of you.

“I still can’t believe she refused the promotion.” She continued taking a swig at the whiskey she was cradling, only bringing a craving for one in John himself.

“I’ve heard. I don’t think she’d be a good fit with the paperworks from the looks of it.” He added.

Of course he knew the very reason why you had refused the promotion on your own end. You were in all accounts a better fit than him to become a Captain, a rank that had been a well-deserved position for everything you’ve done but every single time the topic would be brought up you had threatened retirement or AWOL if anyone pushes. You never truly saw yourself as someone that would be working behind the desk, you couldn’t help and navigate dealing with officials, you admit you were never built for such capabilities.

“I believe she is. You should have seen her chew on Shepherd during the last mission. She’s got guts and a heart that not something you see in the field often.”

He nodded, that was what made you special. He watched you now begin a lengthy conversation with the well-known and very much feared soldier Ghost. How you had been the only one to hold a conversation and not trembled at the sight of the monster of a killing machine.

“Why am I not even surprise with her.” He chuckled turning his attention away from you and turning towards Laswell. “So, are we just gonna spend the entire night talking about Rookie?”

“That’s not much of an issue for you Captain.” Laswell smirked knowingly.

“Will I ever live that down?” He questioned, jokingly.

He was once again reminded of the time in his drugged state where he was delirious enough to propose to you after a mission gone wrong. To many it was just him too drugged from painkillers but for you it was an intentional proposal that you accepted once you were alone.

“You’re never gonna escape the allegations, John. I will never allow it.” Laswell smirked finally excusing herself when the MC has begun.

He made his way to this designated table, his eyes always following you. He watched as you made your way backstage to prepare for the auction later on tonight. It brought the never ending dread in the pit of his stomach as the staff began distributing the auction paddle around, accepting his own without an ounce of hesitation.

It will be a long night that much he has come to realize.

“One Thousand!”

You had faced so much trials and tribulation during your career in the military. The vile and often times immoral acts that was placed against you during interrogations and kidnapping, but nothing in your life could have given you more shame than to be standing in front of the stage as numerous bids have been placed upon your name.

Your eyes had been following along to the numerous of individuals that were bidding, some were colleagues your husband had been all too certain had hots for you, others were top officials that you were more than certain were pigs for involving themselves in the date auction knowing they were married, then there were the guests that had been leering at you all night long.

Maybe your husband was right, the auction was a big mistake.

Your eyes scanned the entire room until they met the familiar eyes of your husband. The reassurance had settled on his eyes as much as the annoyance but he was waiting for you to give him the signal.

Somehow with a simple nod it was all he needed to do to raise the paddle and his booming voice had silence everyone.

“Ten thousand.” His voice had everyone turning.

It was one of the highest bids for the night and it just had to be from the man himself. The rest of the night had been a blur, after the auction and countless of formalities and empty conversations, you had found yourself in the arms of your husband as he helped you back onto the car.

“You alright?” He inquired cupping your cheeks the moment he had helped you with your seatbelt.

“Will get better.” You assured him grounding yourself back to reality as he patted your cheeks and driving the two of you back to your shared apartment.

The car ride was silent, the event with the auction still playing in your head. It could go so wrong in many ways if your husband did not intervene. It was supposed to be for a good cause, but it did not feel like it when you stood in front of the stage. You felt more like meat being prepared to be slaughtered.

Eventually you two had arrived back. Your husband opened the car for you and led you back to you to your apartment. The silence was consuming you more than you expected it to.

“Want to sober up or not?” Your husband inquired.

You turned to look at him as he made his way to the kitchen.

“Sober up would be great right now.” You sighed following him to the kitchen, hopping onto the barstool by the kitchen island. Toeing off your heels in the process, an unintentional moan escaped your lips from the relief on your feet.

“I haven’t done anything yet and you’re already moaning, My Love?” He teased placing a mug of coffee in front of you, from the smell alone you were all too certain was too bitter for your taste.

“Play your cards right and maybe I’ll be the one to make you moan all night.” You quipped right back, cupping the mug and relief of the warmth washing away the events of the night.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He smirked turning towards your mini bar and pour himself a hefty pour of whiskey.

“Surprised you didn’t threatened anyone at the party.” You pointed out.

“I could do lots of things, but I decided it wasn’t worth the hassle for either of us.”

You nodded, watching him unbutton his uniform and sit beside you. Your head immediately finding their way onto his shoulder.

“I’ll pay you back what you paid for the auction.” You promised him.

“You would do no such thing.” He ordered. “You’re worth every pretty penny I’ve paid for tonight.”

You blushed at his words. Even in the years of being with the man, he still has his way of turning you into the girl that had always had a crush on the handsome gruff all only had eyes for you.

Your eyes turned towards your hand, the sparkle of your rings was always present and never once did you remove them even at the party. You wanted to keep your relationship private but never a secret and there are days that you wished to let the world know. But now with his new promotion and you having to lead yet another mission with the help of him now, you doubt it would be a good thing to do.

“You’re too sweet to me sometimes, even after how shitty the night turned out.”

“Nothing shitty about tonight. I get to see you all dressed up and all eyes on you knowing you’re gonna come home to me tonight and do whatever their empty little heads could formulate.”

You rolled your eyes cupping his cheeks and move him slightly too pull him into a kiss that you had desperately wanted to give him all night long. The taste of whiskey brought a sudden thrill through your core.

“Plan on showing it to me, Captain?” You purred and the way his eyes blew out, it was all notification you needed to know as you were unceremoniously lifted into his arms.

Whoever thought your husband had a Captain Kink?

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hannieehaee · 7 months

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Hii, it’s me again<33 A seventeen reaction to the reader trying to dom them. Love your blog!!

18+ / mdi

seventeen reaction at you trying to dom them

wc: 1008

a/n: thank u so much!! so sorry this is so late 😭 (this is not proofread btw oops)

masterlist

seungcheol -

it would probably never happen under any circumstance. not even your birthday. he's stubborn as hell, so when he tells you he's gonna make you feel good, he means he's gonna make you feel good. only way you could ever successfully dom him would be if he was too physically exhausted to get you off his lap and flip you over, otherwise, i'm sorry, but you were getting domed.

jeonghan -

his reaction would depend on his level of energy at the moment. if this was on any regular day, he'd coo at you, thinking it was adorable that you wanted to take control over him. his snickers at your cuteness would kinda kill the mood, which he would have to bring back up by doming you on his own. if this was after a tiring day, he'd love to lay back and let you boss him around, loving how you took care of him and took him to heaven even at his lowest state.

joshua -

another member who would find the situation cute. it was hard to get him to relinquish control, and he was also unpredictable (he's insane), so it'd be hard for you to know when the appropriate time to try and take control would be. if he was in a silly (read: demonic) mood, he would jokingly belittle you as you tried to dom him, only to swiftly take over and turn the situation upside down. it was only once in many moons that he'd find himself feeling vulnerable enough for you to successfully dom him. you'd have to take advantage of these instances by tying him up and preventing him from taking over again.

jun -

he's just happy to be there. he would probably not fight against you doming him, enjoying your touch all the same. he'd play it up for you, wanting you to know how much pleasure you were giving him by taking control. your ability to pin him down and do with him whatever you wanted would also turn him on immensely. despite having no preference between being domed and doming, he would usually cum twice as hard when you were in control, not knowing what to do with his body was you took care of him.

soonyoung -

he'd just go with the flow. oh? you wanna dom today? fuck yeah! he just wants your naked body in his arms, after all. he'd have fun fucking you like a wild animal, but would also love when you tied him up and whispered all the filthy things you wanted to do to him in his ear.

wonwoo -

he'd deny you but would be sweet about it. he'd gaslight you into submission through kisses and caresses of your body. maybe he'd let you dom him under a special occasion like your birthday or his. those days you'd have to tie him up, knowing he was usually incapable of letting you take control.

jihoon -

he'd be a bit of a wild card. if you caught him worn out from a day full of producing, practicing, or doing any idol work in general, he'd be pliant to your touch. he'd want to be taken care of after his hard day of work, loving how unlike at work, he didn't have to do anything. you did it all for him, providing him with the utmost pleasure. other days, however, he'd stop you, wanting to take his frustrations out on you.

seokmin -

don't let his arms mislead you, this man's chronic case of pussy drunkness would cause him to be perpetually domed by you. he didn't even have to ask, it was all in his 'fuck me' eyes. there was nothing he enjoyed more than letting you take control; letting you take care of him. would probably only work well with soft doming full of praise. be mean to him in this state and he'll cry for real.

mingyu -

convinced he likes to be degraded by the people he loves. he'd whine in the same way be does when his members gang up against him, except that his usual whines to stop would be replaced by whines begging you to continue. this would be a usual occurrence in your sex life. but mingyu was a fair man, so he'd like to keep a semi-even ratio of the times you'd domed him vs. the times he domed you.

minghao -

no lmao. he had some type of pride that did not allow him relinquish control. he wanted to be in charge of your pleasure and that was it. no further argument allowed. the most you'd get out of him in that area would be soft sex in which you'd both praise and caress one another. that was as far as you'd get in regards of doming with him (meaning not at all). he appreciated the effort, though.

seungkwan -

regular thursday afternoon for him. when had you not domed him? this was his favorite thing; lying back and watching your pretty body take pleasure from his, only ever having to maybe grind his hips against you a bit as you did all the work. loved it regardless of whether you were sweet or mean to him during it.

vernon -

not much of a reaction. this happened pretty often, honestly. as a laid back guy, he simply enjoyed the feeling of you taking your pleasure from his body. ecstatic at not having to put too much effort into it, and loving your demeanor whenever you wanted to take control. loved the feeling of lying back and letting you take the reigns. whatever you said would go without complaint.

chan -

one look from you and he'd be on his knees, begging you to let him be your good boy. don't get him wrong, he loved to fuck you into the mattress whenever he could, but would salivate at the idea of you putting him in his place and taking your pleasure from him as you saw fit. he'd do anything you asked of him with the mere promise of some pussy.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen #svt fanfic #svt #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen reactions

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space-writes · 11 months

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why i write in obsidian.md (and why you should try it!)

hey, hi, have I mentioned my notes app? let me tell you about my notes app! I’ve been writing in obsidian for over a year now, for fanfic and original fiction/worldbuilding (and dungeons and dragons, and life organisation, and a myriad of other things) and so far I’ve gotten at least three people to also start using it, and I am in fact on an endless quest to get more people to try it.

obsidian.md how do i love thee, let me list the ways:

It’s offline. you are not beholden to the whims of wifi!

Did i mention it’s free? it’s free!

you can pay to support the devs, or to access the sync service, but honestly I just use a free file sync service to move things between my desktop/laptop.

It’s super lightweight at its core. you can (and I do) run it with a bunch of plugins and customisation, but at it’s base it’s just text, in simple files. plaintext. readable by anything. your writing is not trapped in proprietary file formats.

HOWEVER you can in fact customise every aspect of it and if you like Making Your Notes Cute I cannot recommend it enough as a Way To Procrastinate Actually Writing

Crucially, you can link your notes. This is phenomenal for not only worldbuilding, but planning, research, outlining and connecting characters and events. You just make a note, type in square brackets, and boom. linked notes. You can make yourself a little writing wikipedia with approximately 0 effort.

I have separate vaults (Instances, pretty much. Big overarching folders with separate sets of content) for my Valloroth project, my day-to-day notes/fanfic, and my D&D game. They’re aesthetically very different, which is so so so great for getting in the right headspace for the work I’m doing.

OH and we have obsidian canvas now! which is a simple mind-mapping feature where you can make and connect note cards, which can also be notes in your vault. I haven’t had a chance to do timelines with it yet, but it’ll be fun for that. I have made relationship charts with it, and it was great for that. If you like visually laying out boxes of information and connecting them into a pepe silvia board of plot, canvas is incredible

this is a pointcrawl map I made for my D&D game. Those red words in the boxes? links to the locations in the city the players were exploring. phenomenal

do you like split screen? you can have multiple notes open at once in horizontal and vertical configurations, and you can also open multiple tabs in each split window. it’s SO great for research and outlining, when you need like ten documents open at once to move between

finally, there are so many addons to COMPLETELY CUSTOMISE your Writing Setup. styling for tags. kanban boards. LINKABLE MAPS. ways to label scenes with metadata and pull just so many different tables/lists of story information. AND SO MANY MORE. I’m gonna do a whole post of my favourite writing plugins at some point so i can yell about them

the only downsides are that it’s somewhat clunky still to export things out of obsidian—I copy my fics into googledocs for my beta, and I have a plugin to make exporting to html easier to post on ao3, but it’s still kinda fiddly. Also, if you want a program that Has Everything and Just Works, this is…not that. you can build a lot of really useful writing specific features, but you do have to build them. it’s a sandbox, so if you don’t like sandbox-style programs, this may not work for you.

that being said, I do think everyone should try it and play with it and love it like I do and convince all their friends to start using it like i did. come play with obsidian with me! it’s fun! there’s a great community in the official discord that’s very active, plus an ever-growing collection of resources, particularly on youtube (highly reccommend Danny Hatcher’s videos as a jumping in point, they’re super accessible imo)

anyway, come try obsidian!

#obsidian md #obsidian.md #writeblr #writing program #writing #writing process #notes app #space has thoughts #writing apps #writing tools #writer things #writing setup #this whole blog has just been a long con to get more people to download obsidian #notes app (beloved)

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nocturnowlette · 3 months

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i have a really big thing for hypnotism in theory but in reality i can't actually be hypnotized and it's so upsetting :( like im sure i could be but i've never managed to focus hard enough and actually be hypnotized, not with actual audio or with text videos or with purely text scripts or anything and i don't know what im doing wrong or if im doing everything right and i just have an undiagnosed something or other

Alright folks, lets play a game of "trance diagnosis"!

There's a number of different common reasons that files (especially generalized files) would fail to hypnotize you. Let's go through them!

A. Being Afraid of Doing Things "Wrong"

One of the most common that I've seen is the idea that you need to do every suggestion and command the way the hypnotist intended and analyzing every commmand in order to do it "properly", and if they do not, the spell will be broken.

Simply put, the way you receive the command is the right way to receive it. Do what feels natural and don't read into it heavily, and just go with the flow. Trance is stubborn when you let yourself sink into it, and one or two commands or suggestions that don't work is not enough to shatter that unless you convince yourself that it is.

However you do it is correct.

B. Recursive Self-Analysis

This is related to the previous, but is the general idea of constantly analyzing your state of mind to see if trance is "working" and what effects are different than before. This takes your focus away from the session itself and almost dissociates you from it.

Just read or listen and try to vibe.

C. Pre-set Expectations for Trance

Trance will not take control from you, and it will almost certainly not feel the way you expect it to if you are new to trance. I have had sessions where I feel basically awake and was still deep in trance as well as sessions where I could hardly think or function.

Trance will not feel like anything else you've experienced exactly, and it is somewhat personal to you.

D. Believing You Cannot Be Hypnotized

Yes, believing you cannot be hypnotized does actually make it harder for you to go into trance. It's not impossible to (because trance is the natural consequence of several basic parts of our minds), but with something like generalized files, it can make it completely ineffective.

So far, I have never met someone immune to trance, from the deeply anxious to the deeply distractible. Every single one of them has dropped deeply for me. To be unable to go into trance would mean to be entirely unable to focus and for some part of your mind to be entirely absent.

Now, what are the solutions to this?

A. Learning How Hypnosis Works

In contrast to what you may think, learning how hypnosis works does not ruin its effectiveness, and, in fact, makes it more effective in many cases. The very first thing I do when introducing someone to trance is explaining, in full, how it works on the basic level. I do so while putting them into trance at the same time.

This clears up misconceptions and also leaves the subject more informed and more assured in themselves. It also has the effect of making them better protected against manipulation and abusive practices.

B. Finding a Hypnotist for a Personal Session

If you cannot seem to troubleshoot this yourself, it's best to find someone who knows how to tailor a session to you specifically. The person who asked this is anonymous so I cannot speak to you personally unless you reach out, but I myself could potentially help in some instances. That being said, I'm quite busy these days, so thats not a promise.

If anyone else has questions, do not be afraid to send in an ask, I love answering them. Have a nice day, everyone.

#owlette #hypnosis #text hypnosis #hypnotist #hypnotism #hypnotic #hypnotized #hypnok1nk #hypnosub

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the-black-manor · 11 months

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Bad Decisions

Vampire Dom x GN Human Sub Requested by @transpunkslut

Summary: You've been living with your vampire for a few months, but you've never been fucked by him. Tonight, you found the nerve to ask him to be intimate.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, blood drinking,

Kinks: Vampire, terato, blood drinking, master/pet, excessive cum, primal play, oversized cock, rough kisses, multiple orgasms

Words: 2,140

More writings on Patreon.

You had been living with him for a while now, the vampire. It started with a swipe right and an invitation to dinner that you couldn't bring yourself to refuse. He was honest from the very beginning - even before you got to his mansion - that he intended to drink your blood. You still went, and here you still were, months later.

You were cattle to him. Fresh blood in the pantry. That's why you hadn't gotten up the nerve to ask him to do anything more with you. Anything... intimate, even though you so desperately wanted to feel him inside of you. You doubted he would say yes. The night began as it usually did, with breakfast in the living room before the fire as snow fell in heavy flakes outside the grand windows. You were breakfast, of course. After that, things progressed as they usually did, though he seemed to be more present than usual. More attentive.

You were talking and laughing, telling stories, when he rested his hand on your bare leg and gave you that dazzling, sharp smile you had come to adore. Later, he squeezed past you in the kitchen between the island and the counter, his crotch rubbing against your ass as he went. Then, when you were reminiscing about something upsetting, he had taken your hand in his and gave you a soft kiss on the knuckles. There were more instances than these - many more - and every time he so much as grazed you, your heart skipped a beat and your stomach fluttered. Your head was spinning all day, your legs clenched together to provide some friction.

The sun began to rise, and you were beginning to lose control of yourself. He wouldn't need to feed again so soon, but god you wanted him to. Maybe you could convince him to have a snack...

You rapped gently on the heavy walnut door that closed his office off from the rest of the house.

"Come in," his voice came from the other side, always friendly, always inviting.

You stepped into the office and closed the door behind you, then padded forward on bare feet.

"What are you up to?" you asked.

He glanced up from his paperwork to see you in nothing more than an oversized sweater and underwear.

"Working," he replied, and there was curiosity on his lips.

You stepped around his desk, and he turned his chair toward you instinctively.

I hope he doesn't kill me for this, you thought as you sat on the edge of his desk.

"What are you up to?" he asked.

You bit your lip nervously.

"Are you hungry?" you asked.

"I'm always hungry."

You tugged the sweater off one of your shoulders, revealing your neck and the puncture scars there.

"You know I won't feed on you in such quick succession, darling." His voice was part purr, part growl, and despite his words, his pupils were blown.

"I know. But you're hungry and I want to make sure you're well fed."

He swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing, and rested his hands on your legs. He was cool to the touch, but his hands were soft, and the contact send electricity up your spine. You spread your legs, only barely.

"What are you doing?" His voice was low. Warning.

"I'm being good," you answered.

Your heart was pounding in your chest. No doubt he could hear it.

He smirked.

"You're trying to seduce me, aren't you, you little minx?"

You smiled and tried to avert your eyes, but he forced you to look at him with one clawed finger beneath your chin.

"I just want to make sure you're well taken care of... Master."

You had never called him that before, but you saw a fire start behind his blood red eyes when you did. He stopped breathing as yours picked up. He didn't need to breathe, of course, but it had become habit to make you more comfortable. Now, though, he was struggling to restrain himself, so breathing wasn't on his list of priorities.

You took hold of his wrist and slid his hand over your thigh and between your legs, where you pressed it against your crotch.

"I'll hurt you."

That wasn't a threat. It was a warning.

"No, you won't. You wouldn't do anything to risk losing your steady meals."

His pointed tongue flicked out to wet his lips.

"I know you want to, Master. Please. I want it too."

"I know what you want, pet, and it's not for me to drink your blood..."

Despite his hesitance, he pressed his palm against your crotch and began to massage. You let out a huff of breath and your hips jerked forward of their own accord. He pushed his chair out and stepped between your legs. His face was inches from yours, and you could feel his cool breath on your cheek. He smelled like vanilla and nutmeg.

"This is a dangerous game you're playing," he whispered.

"I know."

One hand worked between your legs while the other came up to cup the back of your neck.

"Once we get started, I won't be able to stop."

"Good."

"It will take hours."

"I hope it does."

"You don't know what you're asking for."

"I don't care."

"Your body won't be able to handle it."

"Try me."

Finally, he allowed all reservations to crumble and fall away, and he pressed his lips firmly against yours, holding you steady by the back of your neck. He wasn't gentle. His tongue snaked into your mouth to dance with yours. It was long and slick and strong, and he easily dominated you. His saliva tasted like honey cakes, and you throbbed underneath his palm. Your skin prickled with want. You could feel his long nails digging into the nape of your neck, but you knew he wouldn't break the skin. He wouldn't want to waste any of the crimson wine that flowed through your veins. You wanted him to touch you. You wanted to feel his hands on every inch of your body.

His tongue snaked down your throat and he fucked you with it as his hand made its way past your underwear to paw at you properly. You allowed him to continue as long as you could before you had to push him away to gasp for air. He might not need to breathe, but you definitely still did.

He didn't allow a second to go by before his mouth was on your neck and he sucked deep bruises into the soft flesh.

"M-more..." you begged. "Please..."

He licked a long line up the side of your neck, following your carotid artery, and then his hands were on the hem of your sweater, tugging it up and over your head, and your underwear down and off. He tossed them both to the side and then pressed his chest against yours, forcing you to lie back on the desk. He ground his clothed member against you. You could feel the thick bulge in his pants. He was... much bigger than you expected.

"Please..." you whined again.

"Please what?" he purred in your ear as his fingers tangled in your hair.

"Please. God, fuck me, please."

"You can call me Master," he replied, and you could feel the smirk on his lips as he kissed you again.

Your head was cloudy, filled only with thoughts of him, with wants for him. Your body ached and you arched up to meet him as he pressed his hard cock against you.

"Please..."

A tear ran down your cheek. You couldn't take this teasing. You needed more.

When it seemed as if you might pull your hair out, he finally reached down between your legs. You heard his zipper, and then his cock sprung out of his trousers to slap against you. His length was throbbing and hot, and you nearly screamed in frustration.

"Master, please!"

His cockhead pressed against your entrance, his precum lubing you up, and then, agonizingly slowly, he began to push himself inside. Your eyes rolled back and you let out a moan as the head slipped in, and you clenched as the bulging shaft followed, stretching you painfully wide.

God, he was big.

He bottomed out, buried completely inside of you. You were soft and warm around him. He stilled, allowing you a moment in which you panted and spasmed around him, trying to acclimate to the sheer size of him. He was breathing heavily and you wondered briefly why. It didn't seem like he was doing it to make you comfortable, but more like... he couldn't help but pant.

"M-move. Please, move."

He pulled out, leaving only the tip of his cock inside, before he slowly buried himself deep once more. He set a steady, slow pace, and you were grateful. You had never taken anything so big, and you felt like you might break. You hurt with each thrust, stretching painfully, but your moans gave away the pleasure you were feeling. He crushed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, and his tongue snaked into your mouth a third time. The taste of him... god the taste of him. It made you wild. Feral.

He picked up the pace and you grimaced against the discomfort, but it quickly faded into bliss.

"Uuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..." you moaned, long and low.

Your voice caught each time he thrust into you, breaking the word into pieces that got caught in his breath and fluttered away to swirl around the room like music.

"You feel incredible," he broke away just long enough to pant into your ear. "I should have done this sooner."

"Have you ever... nnnng... drank from someone... oh god... while they came?"

"I'm about to," he growled and sank his fangs deep into your neck just as his cock hit exactly the right button.

You came hard, clenching around him so hard it hurt. Your eyes rolled back, you arched up into him, you clawed at his back. He didn't stop thrusting, fucking you hard and fast through your orgasm as he drank deep. Your head spun as you came down. You tapped on his shoulder.

"S-stop... Gonna... Pass out..."

You felt the confliction in the muscles of his arms and chest as he struggled to let you go.

"Master..." your voice was barely a whisper.

Finally, he tore his mouth away from your neck and froze, gulping in deep breaths as he tried to calm himself.

"Master."

His head whipped around to look at you. You had never seen him like this before, so primal. So... monstrous. His eyes were wild, his hair was a mess, his lips were painted with your blood, and the tips of his wicked fangs were visible beneath his frown. You reached a hand up and stroked his cheek gently.

"Cum in me."

He didn't need you to tell him again. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and resumed his pace, hammering into you like a beast breeding its mate. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around him as he fucked you. Minutes passed... First five, then ten, then more. You came at least three more times before he was done. Finally, when you thought he was going to split you open, he pushed inside of you so deeply that you were scooted up on the desk.

The snarl that ripped from his throat was unlike any sound you had heard him make before. It was desperate. His cock throbbed aggressively inside of you as it released cum like a faucet. He filled you quickly, and you dug your nails into his back to help ground you as the sheer volume of his seed forced your insides to stretch. More minutes passed. Two. Three. The heat of his cum was bliss. Knowing that there was no way it was leaking out past his bulging manhood was ecstasy.

He thrusted as he began to come down, seemingly trying to get deeper, and with the heat of his seed, the throbbing of his cock, and the thrusting of his hips, you couldn't help but cum again. You nearly blacked out from the force of it.

After what seemed like an eternity, he relaxed on top of you, shaking. You went limp beneath him, allowing your arms to fall to your sides. Your bare chest heaved. You licked your lips, and he licked his.

"That was incredible," you panted.

He didn't smile, didn't chuckle. Instead, he pushed away from you, hooked his arms beneath your legs, and glared down at you with dark eyes. It was then that you realized he was still rock hard inside of you.

"I told you this would take hours."

Your eyes went wide as he began to thrust.

"I'm just getting started."

#my writing #vampire kink #monster kink #monsterfucker #terato #inflation kink #impreg kink #primal kink #primal play #master/pet #pet play kink #excessive seed kink #overstimulation #oversized cock #blood kink

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alittlebitofloveliness · 2 months

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Stevepop social media au is actually such a cool idea, I crave to hear more of your thoughts on it

Hi anon! This is for you, @battleslippers and @raindrvq who all wanted more stevepop social media au. I will warn you, I got a little carried away.

Stevepop Social Media Au:

-The TikTok thing wasn’t supposed to be a success, Soda honestly just started it for fun but he gains a following pretty quick. Part of its his pretty face and part of it’s his demeanour- he is magnetic after all

-Most of his videos are either him doing stupid internet challenges and failing miserably or kind of just rambling into the camera like its some sort of video diary

-The first video that went sort of viral was just him trying and failing to twerk. The footage itself is kind of shaky because whoever is filming is laughing so hard.

-Despite how much he loves internet challenges he refuses to try any that involve a lot of waste. To him the idea of wasting a bunch of food or anything really is absurd

-The gang ends up in a lot of his videos, either just in glimpses when he’s walking around filming himself, or in the background when he’s trying challenges or whatever. Like, TikTok is fun for him but everyone else just kind of leaves him to it, so sometimes Ponyboy, Johnny, and Dal will be in the background playing poker or video games, or Darry will come home from work, or you’ll see Two-bit smoking a cigarette and his audience is so intrigued by them because it makes Soda seem so human.

-A lot of his content involves him pranking Darry simply because of how confused Darry gets before he figures out what’s going on

-In the background of almost every video you can hear someone laughing at him or sometimes heckling. It distracts Soda every time and his face visibly lights up when he turns away from the camera and argues back

-His comment section speculates so hard about who the voice is. Some people think its Two-bit or Dallas until someone else points out that they’re visible in the background of some videos and the voice is still present when they're not talking, and thus clearly not coming from either of them. The speculation gets to the point that his whole comment section is just people wondering about who the voice belongs to

-Soda eventually adresses it with one offhand sentence: “oh that’s just Stevie, he doesn’t like TikTok”

-The comments section goes wild. Now they have a name to go with the offscreen voice, but they still don’t have a face.

-It kind of gets to the point where his following is more invested in analysing every instance of hearing Steve and trying to catch a glimpse of him than they are in Soda’s actual content

-Of course, the close analysis leads to people noticing just how…flirty some of Steve and Soda’s banter is and the fanbase is suddenly split. Some people think Soda can’t possibly be gay and the others are highly convinced Soda and Steve are a couple and Soda’s just trying to keep their relationship on the down low

-Of course, the many many nicknames and the way Soda’s eyes light up whenever he looks off camera really don’t help speculation

-…There’s also the video where Ponyboy and Johnny came in when he was filming by himself and Ponyboy started rubbing his eyes and going “holy shit, is that…Soda without Steve? Are my eyes deceiving me?” “Shut up Pony, don’t joke about that, clearly he’s grieving the loss of his other half- since death is the only thing that could separate those codependent idiots for more than five minutes.” “SHUT UP you two I’m trying to film a video” “of what, you sucking ass at dancing?” “GO AWAY!”

-…and then there’s the video where Soda’s doing some sort of workout routine and ends up shirtless and Steve’s voice gets about an octave deeper even when he teases Soda seemingly like normal

-The comments section LOSES it at that one.

-Ponyboy and Johnny make their own TikTok account and they use it solely to make fun of Soda’s (and by extension Steve). Actual dialogue from one of their videos has Pony in a shitty blond wig going “internet people stop saying me and my buddy Steve are together. It’s super normal to make out with your guy best friend, we’re just guys being dudes”. Another has Johnny (wearing a name tag with Steve written on it) watching Ponyboy do jumping jacks and saying “if you’re not ogling your best friend while he works out, what are you doing? Pretending you’re not turned on? Get real”

-Ponyboy and Johnny’s channel is only live for a week before its mysteriously deleted. They’re also both sporting a few bruises when they’re spotted in the background of Soda’s latest video

-Unfortunately, Pony and Johnny’s account caused the speculation to get even worse. No matter what Soda posts, the comments section is just speculation about him and Steve.

-Surprisingly, it’s Steve who gets fed up one day when Soda is doing a TikTok live and getting visibly annoyed at all the comments and speculation. He steps into frame, kisses Soda soundly on the mouth and turns to the camera. “Hey. I’m Steve. I hate TikTok, I’m Soda’s best friend, and as of last week, his boyfriend. Now respectfully, shut the fuck up talking about me.”

-The comment section loses it’s shit but eventually goes back to simply commenting on Soda’s content once it becomes clear Steve isn’t going to make another appearance and Soda isn’t going to talk about it.

-The end :)

#the outsiders #sodapop curtis #steve randle #stevepop #ponyboy curtis #darry curtis #johnny cade #two bit mathews #headcanon #dally winston #lovelythoughts

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olderthannetfic · 1 year

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One of the things I've seen people who support End OTW Racism talk about is wanting to make sure only people who should reclaim slurs use them in their work. This raises a lot of questions to me, such as 1. how are you going to determine who gets to reclaim a slur 2. how are you going to determine that an individual is in the group you've decided should be allowed to once you figure out the answer to point 1, and 3. how are you going to deal with the fact that sometimes, a word is a slur in one language or one region of the world and not the rest? A lot of people I know in the United States only found out what the slur is for Pakistani people when a YouTuber from the UK (who is black, not Pakistani himself) got heat for saying it, for instance. If someone accidentally uses it as an abbreviation, not knowing it's a slur in the UK, then how is the moderation team supposed to handle that?

I like the idea of having more moderators who can review instances of harassment and racism, but I feel that some of these proposed ideas are not practical or realistic to implement online in large-scale on a site as big as AO3. I hate that anyone who asks these questions is being framed as being "pro-racism". Of course I'm anti-racist, I'm not white and I've experienced it in fandom, but having been in fandom for this long, I'm aware that it's a big space. It seems to me to be an impossible task to check that every single person using a slur is someone you've decided should be allowed to do so for every single instance of it being used in every story on the entire archive. My main fandom alone is half a million works. It would take an astounding amount of volunteers to look through that.

Also, though... people lie. People lie about their race a lot online. I have caught out many, many people in the act of lying when they claim to be Afghani because, as a mixed black/Pashtun person myself, I know enough about the region to ask them things like what language their parents speak or what part of the country they're from, etc., and people haven't put in enough effort to read up on the thing they're pretending to be, so they say something so incorrect it's readily apparent. But there are a lot of Afghani-Americans with very little knowledge of the country, too, as a result of generational trauma. Even I have sometimes found myself going, "Is this a lie, or is this someone who's just disconnected from their roots?" So how are volunteers on AO3 supposed to know if someone is or isn't the race they say they are? Even BIPOC can misidentify someone as a liar or believe someone who is actually lying if the liar in question put in a lot of work into their grift.

And that's without getting into the obvious fact that people are assholes who will lie about authors and forge evidence against them to try to convince the mods so-and-so is lying about being black so they shouldn't be allowed to use the word 'colored' in their historical fandom set in the 1890's. You know people would do that to each other, it's fandom. Fandom has always had toxic people in it.

A lot of people who back End OTW Racism keep saying, "we're just holding AO3 to it's promise back in 2020" but don't seem to have thought through their suggestions on how AO3 does that. I really want to be onboard here, but these ideas were not well thought-out. Even disregarding how many people it'd take to moderate a site this big, the flaw baked into this and many other proposals is that it falls into asking the moderators to make personal judgments and assessments of sensitive matters and situations where they don't have all the information they'd need to make that judgment call.

Honestly I think before calling for action, they should've had a list of actionable ideas for what AO3 do that are not so obviously rife with flaws and room for abuse by bad-faith actors.

There really doesn't seem to be a lot of willingness to deal with the reality of both racefakers and POC getting harassed for doing their own identities "wrong".

Frankly, I'd rather have lots of questionable works than one instance of demanding some hapless minority teenager prove their identity because they ~don't sound authentic~.

How much must that fuck a person up, especially if they're young? Especially, especially if they're some kind of diaspora, quite possibly displaced for unpleasant reasons.

I frankly think people massively overestimate any "harm" from some crappy fic a person refused to click back on and massively underestimate this other kind of harm.

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thebibliosphere · 1 year

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Hi! I was wondering if you’ve ever heard of ‘nutrition response testing’ (also called ‘applied kinesiology’ and ‘contact reflex analysis’)? I had it done a few days ago by a holistic health care practice and they recommended several (expensive) supplements for various health issues. I didn’t know that was what was going to happen going in, my mom got a recommendation for their practice and convinced me to try it. I was originally going to go along with it, since they really sounded like they knew what they were talking about, and made me feel very heard and respected, but now I’m not so sure. They made a pretty big oversight regarding me being allergic to one of the recommended supplements, which lead to me doing a ton of research on everything they were doing. It was pretty inconclusive. Some sites said it’s complete pseudoscience and doesn’t work at all, but I’ve also seen a lot of people claim it helped them with decades long health issues. I just really don’t know what to make of this, or where to go to figure it out, so I figured I’d ask you.

I also know several people who found relief from symptoms from seeing kinesiologists.

I respect their experiences and am glad they found help, but as someone who worked the holistic circuit for many years and still uses some holistic treatments in my own health journey, I am going to urge an abundance of caution going forward.

In holistic circles, there's a tendency to throw supplements at you to see what sticks. If you feel better, great! You possibly had a deficiency you were either unaware of or were just on the cusp of borderline so it wasn't flagged up in regular testing.

If you don't, there's a tendency to tell you to keep taking them because "these things take time," and also have you tried {x other product they also just so happen to sell in their clinic.}

And people do it, usually because the supplements cost less than going to see the actual doctor, or their doctor doesn't make them feel heard and this nice person is offering them a solution while sounding very confident about it.

One of the major draws of holistic medicine for a lot of people is that it lets sick people feel heard. We take time with people to make them feel valid and cared for because that is also an important part of the healing process. But again, speaking as someone with multiple holistic qualifications and who still uses some of them, holistic care is not a substitute for conventional medicine. It can be a good addition, but it should not be your only method of treatment.

Now, not all of these items are useless and not all people who sell supplements and other such things in their clinic are suspicious.

It's just that there's very little regulation on who can sell these kind of things (as well as very little regulation of the supplements themselves), and you need to be careful about who you trust and be aware of how they are being promoted to you.

(One way to do this is look up the brand of supplements being sold and seeing who their parent company is. Chiropractors, for instance, are notorious for buying supplements from companies that operate like MLMs, giving them incentive to shill them to all their patients whether they need them or not.)

It's true, some holistic types are very good at spotting deficiencies in how the body looks and responds to certain things. Especially if they have legitimate medical training to back up their practice. But that is also true of any conventional doctor who pays attention.

I walked in to see my PCP not too long ago and he was able to diagnose a zinc deficiency due to the symptoms I was describing and a subtle change he noticed in my nails.

Hell, my dentist was the one who figured out my mouth ulcers and the muscle tic in my jaw might be a b12 deficiency and urged me to see the doctor who ultimately saved my life.

In those instances, supplementation was necessary because I have chronic underlying conditions that prevent me from absorbing nutrients from my food.

Unlike any kinesiologist I've known, however, both instances were followed up with diagnostic blood work to check the accuracy of those suspected deficiencies, both to ensure it was correct but also ensure appropriate supplemental dosing.

I can't tell you the number of times someone has suggested I take "shit-yourself" levels of magnesium because someone who also shills essential oils on the side told them to. No thank you.

You didn't mention if the person you saw wanted to do diagnostic blood testing before offering you supplements, but if they didn't, that's a red flag for me. The fact that they missed an allergy you presumably told them about is another (just as it would be for a regular doctor).

So, should you listen to them? That's up to you. I personally prefer to see doctors who take a more holistic approach to the body, but I also know enough to combine it with conventional medicine and when testing is needed. I have that experience and know-how. Not everyone does, and it can be very easy to trust the nice person telling you to Buy Their Shiny Tonic To Cure Thine Ailments.

Maybe it'll help, maybe it won't. But it sounds like your gut is giving you a warning sign. I'd be inclined not to ignore it.

#chronic health tag #I am trying to be kind in this post #because I know a number of my followers truly do believe in kinesiology and have been helped by it #and I am not invalidating that #just #y'know use caution and know that a lot of holistic companies are in debt to MLM type companies who sell supplements #and always follow up with proper diagnostic testing if you can

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cryptocism · 18 days

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So, out of curiosity (AND a slight fear of messing with what you've laid out so clearly in Frequency, which I see as the most reasonable and rational explanation to Thad's character inconsistencies basically, ever), I am wondering if this version of Inertia from Flash #760 fits into the Too Many Thads AU anywhere? From what I can tell, he's the only one not mentioned in your very thorough (and impressively detailed, he was at boomerang's funeral, excuse me sir why are you here???) timeline of Thad appearances. Would you consider him one of the clones we get from the AU, like Six? Or maybe just Thad himself given he's sort of just... chilling in the Speedforce lol. Or did you just not consider him given it's yet another instance of Thad appearing, doing something wild, then disappearing as quickly as he came haha. (Also, I just noticed he says vibrational FREQUENCY, nice👏)

i did... kinda include this iteration. but admittedly it's pretty brief, and the bits of story that take place in the speed force sit in dreamy abstraction rather than solid prose

start of chapter 2 when Thad is running thru the speed force:

He thinks he sees the Flash, once or twice. Tick tock tick tock. You’re running out of time, Barry. But he often thinks he sees lots of people. Once, he thought he saw Max. But the memories exist in his mind the same way a daydream would, and he can’t be sure if it was real.

The "tick tock tick tock" line is taken directly from #760

compared to the other threads of canon that Frequency is written around, it's definitely more on the borders of believably. The "tick tock" line and the bit where Thad threatens to snap his fingers and "blast Barry's mind to pieces" harkens back to the Kid Zoom era and Rogues Revenge, which fucks with my attempt to differentiate this Inertia as a separate person from Kid Zoom. but the hiccup feels minor enough that i think it still works

(and on a tangential note the whole "i'll snap my fingers and blast your mind to pieces" line straight up doesn't make sense to me because YES Kid Zoom famously snapped his fingers and exploded a baby, but he accomplished that by fast-forwarding that baby's timeline so quick that its literal molecules shook apart under the stress. Barry is a speedster and would not respond to timeline manipulation in that way - if at all - because his molecules are already used to that kind of shit. it's a weird and out of place threat to make and i think Williamson may have gotten the impression that Kid Zoom acquired the power of spontaneous combustion which he Fucking Did Not ok rant over)

the general idea i was going for was: Thad is running on rage, sees Barry, has the brief confrontation in #760 where Barry mostly just feels bad for him, and then disappears back into the storm. Implication being that Thad has actually had a couple different interactions with people during his 5 years in the speed force (Eobard, Max, Barry, etc) who try to convince him of things or promise him things, but staying for that long in the speed force (without being dead) fucks with perception a little bit, especially perceptions of Time. so when he's out and looking back on it, Thad can't totally discern what happened, what didn't, or in what order.

also the attendance at Captain Boomerang's funeral gets a shout out near the end of chapter 8 when Bart is going through Six's collection of Four's old stuff:

Some of the items on the shelf he didn’t recognize. A shot glass. A funeral pamphlet for one Digger Harkness. Several empty syringes and auto-injectors all meticulously arranged. A variety of small gadgets and devices that Bart couldn’t place.

because the funeral is technically Inertia's return after the events of Mercury Falling, I translated that as Four's first appearance in the 21st century

#asks #embracesadness #frequency fic #some of the canon stuff ended up as lil easter eggs but i did try to add it all in there #even if some additions don't mesh as neatly as others #still confused about the threat to explode Barry's brain but i have elected to interpret it as:#the speed force is fucking with thad's brain #and maybe he encountered Four/Kid Zoom's ghost particles somewhere in the storm #but Thad doesnt remember it fully completely or coherently #because of the aforementioned speedforce-brain-fuckery

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oldshrewsburyian · 6 months

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I hate-watched the latest crank documentary on the Princes in the Tower last night and I am mad about it for so many reasons. I will say, I was very entertained by the actually-respectable Dr. Henrike Lähnemann saying on camera that the only thing that could be definitely affirmed about a document issued by the chancellery of the Holy Roman Empire was that it was definitely written in the 15th century and authentically sealed. ...and then they ignored her. Also, the barrister who is supposedly this Professional Skeptic™ who will Dispassionately Evaluate Claims appears not to recognize the 15th-century equivalent of a scam email.

The fact that the documentary's conclusions are spurious and its methodology vacuous/absent has already been covered at some length here. But I'm still mad for other reasons, viz:

This documentary that supposedly is trying to convince its audience (?) just straight-up ignores the central question of identity

There is a lot of hand-waving and sleight-of-hand around the representation of people's qualifications. Ann Wroe, for instance, does have a DPhil from Oxford (1975). She has worked at The Economist since 1976. And if you haven't engaged with the field in 50 years...! The president of the Ricardian Society is represented as a "medieval historian." The Society's page has him as an "author and historian." Does he have any qualifications? who knows!!

This gets me to another thing I've been mad about before. The barrister says at the conclusion of the documentary that "History is for everyone" (true!) and that this means that anyone can just go off to archives and discover things and make field-changing discoveries. This is so laughably untrue that we have seen how wrong it is in the documentary! because Langley appears incapable of any sort of paleography at all! Seriously?? Seriously??? You're going to show us 15th-century documents in multiple languages and then the neatly typed-up translations that some poor graduate student probably did for you and then say that "anyone can do history"? HAHAHAHAHA but also this is no laughing matter as departments and degree programs and positions are being cut everywhere. I am livid. I'm also livid because professionally-trained historians everywhere (including self) are begging for funds to do the most basic functions of our work--attend conferences, go to archives--and applying for endless grants and self-funding what our institutions, if we have institutions, won't cover. And Philippa Langley gets £££ to swan about Europe with her barrister accomplice (paramour??) drinking good coffee and going misty-eyed over her own personal Richard III fantasies? I hate everything.

#history side of tumblr #princes in the tower #philippa langley #adventures in academia #flames--flames on the side of my face

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coelacanthking · 1 year

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What the fuck is up with Mirage?

[[Spoilers for Rise of the Beasts under the cut.]]

I had to take a whole 24 hours to process ROTB. Damn, it was so good. I have not latched onto anything Transformers related for such a long time: so much about it highlights what we love about Transformers, and what it means to be a Transformers fan. But I’ve been hyperfixating on the star of the show–Mirage–since before I walked into the theater. He’s cocksure, carefree, and so damn loyal. And he ain’t bad to look at either. But I had to look past my infatuation to see that there is inherently something very, very strange about him that I haven’t seen anyone else talk about.

Absolutely no hate going forward, just observations.

Mirage is absolutely not your typical Cybertronian. As we all know, your average bot will have one alt-mode that they can scan new facets to as they desire, shedding them as they go. Some are even triple changers, able to go from alt to alt. In fact, I think Bumblebee qualifies as a triple changer in this movie. Perhaps something happened between his own film and this one, who knows. But as far as we know, that’s the extent of alt-mode limits.

Mirage is not a fan of limits. In the scene when he was trying to convince Noah to join the Autobots, Mirage was able to flip from alt to alt to alt (then onto another alt) absolutely effortlessly. He’s able to use his t-cog like a freaking Rolodex, spinning up a new one whenever he has a mind to. This is very unusual in of itself, since we don’t see any other bots other than he and Bumblebee taking new alts for the whole movie.

And then there’s his illusion work. I was only a little disappointed that none of his iconic invisibility was used, but the mimicry (which seems to be a page he took out of Hound’s book) is well done and seems to be something he is very comfortable and skilled using. Again, I can’t recall another instance of another Cybertronian having a skill quite like this one, in this or any other movie.

Ah, and let’s not forget the little bit of himself that he peeled off and flipped to Noah, which morphed into a great little handheld weapon. So damn strange.

And then there’s the power armor.

I don’t know if Noah’s handheld helped to integrate Mirage onto his body, but that is without a doubt NOT something we’ve seen before in a Transformers series/movie. There are the exosuits that Spike and Daniel wear in TF the Movie ('87), and Verity's armor in Last Stand of The Wreckers, but those are just fitted suits. The closest thing I can think of is the Apex Armor in TFP, and that isn’t a sentient piece of technology, just something that snaps into place as it’s engaged.

So what’s the point of all this rambling?

I think Mirage is an Outlier.

And not just any Outlier. As we know from the comics, Outliers come in so many shades, and no two individuals are ever the same. But there seems to be no limit to Mirage’s abilities. He is perhaps the most impressive Outlier in any Transformers continuity, or at least one of the very few of his kind left alive since the fall of Cybertron. And perhaps this is the reason for his attitude; after a Cybertronian lifetime of chafing under scrutiny and trying to be made sense of, my man said 'screw it' and invested in himself. Maybe these abilities of his are the reason he’s so willing to throw himself into everything he does, without hesitation or sense of self-preservation. Because he can adapt to whatever situation he finds himself in.

“There are more like you?”

“Like me? Naw.”

He’s a big deal, and he knows it.

#Transformers #Transformers: Rise of the Beasts #TF #TF ROTB #Autobots #Cybertron #Mirage #TFMIrage #ROTBMirage #Autobot Mirage #Spoilers #TF Mirage

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raayllum · 7 months

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also cause I'm not there yet in my 5x08 liveblog but because even just a whiff of "Callum gave Finnegrin the spell" made the fandom troll come running into my inbox to say otherwise, just wanna clear up a few things for peace of mind before we get there

The first is that I know it was the fandom troll because of the timing & presentation, not necessarily because the now deleted/blocked ask had the "Callum purposefully gave Finnegrin the wrong spell" take. While that was an indication to me that this was probably the fandom troll since they seem to take issue with my characterization of Callum in particular, perfectly smart reasonable people have also proposed that possibility of the spell ingredients being not entirely accurate as purposeful; it's not exclusive to crappy people by any measure.

With all that in mind, I want to discuss how I view the scene (and indeed how I think it's meant to be interpreted per a casual viewer reading) as well as why I think Callum giving Finnegrin a not word-for-word accurate actually kind of makes his choice more morally questionable, not less

So let's begin

1) I don't think the scene's intended takeaway is that Callum gave Finnegrin the wrong spell

I think Callum panicked, and he folded, and he would've told Finnegrin anything the pirate had asked for in that moment to try and spare Rayla's life. While TDP is an immensely detailed show in many ways (hell I have a tag dedicated to just those details), every scene still has to ultimately work for a casual viewer. I don't think this scene is any exception. One of the first things in the series that we learn is that humans took down the King of the Dragons with dark magic and it's a repeated fact throughout most of the first season, and into the third when we see the events that transpired exactly.

So when Finnegrin mentions it, we're probably going to remember that was a thing that happened and it involved Harrow and Viren, but we're probably not going to remember the specific ingredients. Therefore, like Finnegrin, most audience members are going to take Callum at his word, especially since throughout most of his conversation with Finnegrin, Callum is arguably far more honest than he needs to be (fessing up that he did dark magic at all, mentioning that he studies all the primals, that he did the spell to save a friend at all - which is exactly why Finnegrin sets him the hand cutting test to try and break him, etc). The scene - again, for the audience's benefit - even as Callum clarify for those that wouldn't remember why he was spouting things about dying breaths and unicorn horns, because again, I do think this is the Intended Takeaway:

Part of the reason I think Callum panicked (other than Jack de Sena's wonderful voice acting and uneven breaths) is because, if Callum was thinking clearly enough to withhold information purposefully, he could've considered 1) that Finnegrin is bluffing about threatening Rayla (Callum cannot see her or any of the others, so that could be the case) and 2) Finnegrin would have limited means to know that Callum was lying if Callum said exclusively the wrong ingredients and sent him on a wild goose chase. To give as much as he did accurately was dangerous (but we'll talk more about that in a second).

We also know from instances in the previous seasons and just the prior episode that Callum doesn't have all sky spells (ones that he can do whenever he wants basically) memorized either, and that it's not out of the realm of possibility that Viren would've fudged a little to Harrow about some components of the spell (such as emphasizing love and hatred) because he was actively trying to convince - somewhat guilt-trip and manipulate - Harrow into doing something didn't really want to do, but ultimately couldn't say no to.

However, one of the things that's the most fun meta is reading into things deeply, looking at various character interpretations, and seeing what we can find below the surface level / casual viewership read. Just because something may not be the 'intended takeaway' (which can already be hard to define) doesn't mean it's not a real possibility, especially if enough dots connect, and doesn't mean it's not worthwhile and or without merit.

So let's look at the scene from the assumption that Callum is giving Finnegrin a not totally accurate spell On Purpose - what does he omit, what does that tell us, and where does that leave us from a character standpoint?

2) Haha, jk, unless...?

First things first, let's look at what Callum says vs what Viren says

No, no, wait! A dying breath. Blood filled with hatred. And a unicorn horn. That's the dark magic you want.

In her final moments, I captured something that I hoped we could use later. It contains her dying breath. [...] Claudia captured a unicorn and brought me its horn. The dying breath. The unicorn's pure horn. There's one last component I need. The undying hatred of one who loved the victim. Your blood.

Now, even Viren's stance and the circumstances of the spell isn't entirely clear. We don't know if any dying breath would do, or if it had to be Sarai's (and had to go her killer, as opposed to someone else). We don't know if the spell requires the unicorn's horn to be 'pure' (I'm assuming not already corrupted somehow with dark magic) or if it would work regardless. And we don't know whether the hatred or love is more important, or just one, or if they're equally important. It's quite a list, after all.

Which is why I think in some ways Callum's lack of specificity actually makes what Callum told Finnegrin more dangerous, whether you read the minor omissions as intentional or not.

Cause think of it this way, you're a pirate lord and you want to kill your enemy. You heard from this mage kid that any dying breath would do. What's your next move going to be? You're probably going to murder a random member of your crew and collect the breath because you were never told it had to be your loved one's final breath (which would make the spell impossible).

So that's one murder down, bare minimum. Then you're going to either send people out or word that you're looking for a unicorn horn at a port where people already canonically smuggle dark magic supplies (Chasing Shadows, TDP reflection). This will either lead to you hiring people to eliminate one of the - it appears to be - few remaining unicorns that still exist to bring you the horn, or if you've put out a reward, multiple dark mages / mercenaries may try their hand at killing one and bringing the horn to you. That's probably 1-5 unicorn murders as a result, if the mages are working not in communication with each other and all vying for the reward. This is also assuming that none of the mercenaries or mages come back empty handed and get harmed or killed because of Finnegrin's anger at their failures.

You also might torment and torture someone else to get them to hate you before you drain them of blood / take their blood for the spell, again not realizing that 'love' has to be a facet of it. At best, that would maybe be what you do to the crew member before you kill them for their final breath.

Then, once he has all the ingredients (and he'd need some sort of incantation, because dark magic is a lot of steps and processes) there's two main avenues.

Either these all work and he successfully has his weapon of vengeance needed to kill Domina Profundis, because what was given was enough. This would mean Callum's actions led to about 2-3 successful murders of mostly innocent people and possibly more political upheaval at the death of another archdragon (the ocean would certainly be out of whack, but it's not clear how much, if any, political power Domina still holds).

It doesn't work and Finnegrin, stubborn as he is about control and loathe to admit he can't commandeer something (magic and wills included), figures that something went wrong and tries again, having to collect the ingredients all over again. Depending on how many times he'd try (I feel like maybe 2-3 max), this could put those murders up to maybe nine innocent individuals, assuming Finnegrin's worsening temper over his failures doesn't increase the tally.

Rattling off the accurate spell ingredients could've actually minimized the damage, because any of the specifics might've stopped Finnegrin in his tracks. If Finnegrin just needed hatred of one who loved the victim, he could've fulfilled that on his own with some of his own blood ("I loved that crab" and her definitely hates Domina Profundis). The one that could've entirely halted his plan is if the dying breath had to come from the victim, in which case the chance to avenge his beloved crab is long gone. Finnegrin could've heard the list of very specific ingredients, deduced that he would not be capable of carrying out the spell, and been on his merry way to use Rayla as revenge fish bait.

But by giving Finnegrin an 'imperfect' list, Callum made the pirate captain more likely to engage in the violence required to get there, without an actual textual guarantee to the audience that what was given wouldn't have worked, either (aka we have two ingredients list and without a third to tip the scales, it'll always be a technical 50-50, maybe 60-40 read in favour of Viren).

So where does that leave us?

With these two readings in mind, you have two options:

Callum is willing to sacrifice Domina Profundis', and a few unnamed innocent lives/creatures, to save Rayla and thereby gave Finnegrin a dangerous in its own way, if not more dangerous because of potential increased collateral damage, list of spell ingredients, because he acted entirely out of emotionally fuelled panic where he wasn't totally thinking clearly

Callum is willing to sacrifice unnamed innocent lives and creatures, but not Domina Profundis', in order save Rayla, because he decided on purpose to give Finnegrin a more achievable sounding list of ingredients that would increase collateral damage, but not let him kill the dragon, because he made a calculated decision on purpose that those lives were worth less than Rayla's and Domina's to him (for some reason, as she's a stranger to him)

To be clear, I would love the second option as an interpretation because I do think Callum can be calculating and I do think that's the far more Viren-like option - choosing what to sacrifice for other people in the mindset of harm mitigation ("A thousand men and women are prepared to fall protecting you tonight, but you won't let one sacrifice their lives for you?" / "If you must choose, choose the egg").

But again, given the framing of the scene I think the first reading is 1) more sympathetic and speaks to Callum's more compassionate emotional nature and 2) is the intended takeaway, but if people want to read it as Callum strategically deciding that certain lives - other than Rayla's - were worth sacrificing that so she and Domina Profundis wouldn't be killed, that is absolutely a valid prerogative.

It's just not mine

#tdp #the dragon prince #mini meta #analysis series #5x08 #s5 #arc 2 #analysis #dark magic #tdp callum #tdp meta #callum #like at most if you do the purposeful read he spared domina #but that just means he still threw under strangers under the bus #and decided this one stranger meant enough he'd send finnegrin on a wild goose chase #which is valid! of course he doesn't want to cause more harm to more people than he has to #but if you read it as on purpose i do think that's actually making him far more calculated / selectively loyalty #than he already is #& saved the ask just in case it's insinuated for some reason that i am lying (just i would not put that above ppl)

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clusterbuck · 1 year

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i said what if the death doula is an old man as a joke but bro… i don’t think it’s a joke anymore and also possibly not even the point of this but here we are anyway

buck’s never been to a living funeral before. he’s not even sure he’d known they exist, until the call came in and he spent all four minutes of the ride over looking it up.

“it’s basically just a party you have before you die,” he concludes, shrugging, as they climb out of the ambulance and start assessing the situation. bobby sends hen and chimney over to the driver of the crashed car, and the rest of them fan out to start treating the less serious injuries.

buck is checking an older man’s pulse when the patient speaks up. “it’s not just a party, you know.”

“sorry?” buck says. “what’s not?”

“a living funeral,” the man says. “it’s not just a party.”

“oh!” buck says, making a note of his pulse—elevated, but within normal bounds—and reaching for the pressure cuff. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean—i’ve never actually been to one. so i don’t—”

“it’s okay,” the man says. “not many people know about it. and even when they do—death scares people. not everyone is ready to face it.”

“is that what you do?” buck asks. “face it?”

“sometimes,” the man says. “it depends on what the client needs.” he holds his arm up so buck can remove the pressure cuff, then offers a smile. “i’m carl, by the way. i’m the death doula.”

buck frowns, and carl huffs a laugh which turns into a cough.

“are you—” buck asks, reaching for carl’s shoulder to steady him, but carl waves him off.

“this cough’s much older than the accident,” he says. “might even be older than you.”

“so what’s a death doula?” buck asks.

“we help people die,” carl says. as he talks, buck carefully disinfects and patches up the various scrapes along his face and arms. “people with terminal illnesses, or sometimes people who are getting old enough that their time is near. some people need help facing the idea of death, yes, and others might want help with options for getting their affairs in order, for instance. or sometimes, we might help the dying person and their family get on the same page, so there’s no unfinished business left behind. it depends on what they want.”

“so that’s what the living funerals are?” buck asks. he takes a seat on the ground next to carl, not even pretending to keep working on him. he glances around, but eddie, bobby, and ravi have the situation under control.

“living funerals are a chance to celebrate the dying person’s life before it’s over. to celebrate their friendships, and relationships, and the things that mattered to them. to let the people that mattered to them know it while they still can. and each funeral is different, of course, depending on who it’s for, but—it’s not just a party. it’s a way to start letting go, to appreciate the life you lived and prepare for whatever you think is coming next.”

“so you guys don’t have a party line about the afterlife?”

carl laughs. “no, we don’t,” he says. “people have beliefs, and their beliefs are important to them. i would never try to convince them otherwise. and besides, how should i know what happens after death? i’ve never died before.”

“i have,” buck says, turning to look at carl. “died, i mean. for three minutes.” and seventeen seconds, eddie’s voice adds in his head.

“huh,” carl says. “car crash?”

“lightning strike, actually,” buck says. “freak accident.”

“huh,” carl says again. he looks like he might say something else, too, until bobby calls out from the engine.

“let’s wrap it up, buckley, everyone else is ready to go!”

“copy that!” buck calls back.

“listen,” carl says as buck gathers his equipment and gets to his feet. “if you ever want to talk about the time you died…” he hands buck a plain white business card, just his name and phone number with the words death doula under them. “give me a call.”

buck takes the card and thanks him, thinking he’s never going to call, only—

two days later, he’s sitting across from carl in the back garden of a quiet coffee shop, both hands wrapped around a large mug of green tea as he tries to find the words.

“i guess i just—don’t understand,” he finally says. “death is meant to be permanent, right? it’s the most permanent thing there is. that’s the thing that freaks people out when they think about it. but it wasn’t. not for me.”

“you know what they say about sharks biting humans?” carl asks, and buck frowns.

“that it’s rare?”

“well, yes,” carl says. “but also—sharks don’t bite humans on purpose. they bite to see if maybe we’re food, and when they realise we’re not, they spit us out.”

“you’re saying death… spit me out?” buck asks.

“in a manner of speaking, yes,” carl says, dunking his scone into his coffee. “it wasn’t your time.”

“but i don’t understand why,” buck says. “why not? who decides that?”

“i’m afraid that’s a little above my pay grade,” carl smiles. “i don’t know the why of it all. i can help you get ready for death, but i can’t get death ready for you.”

buck stays with carl for another hour, through two more cups of green tea, but it doesn’t soothe the itch at the back of his mind. he can tell that carl, too, is a little out of his depth—he’s used to dealing with people facing death. not people who are walking away.

as he drives away, though, a thought begins to form, and by the time he opens eddie’s front door the words are spilling out of his mouth. “i think we should have a living funeral.”

eddie looks up from the dining table, where he’s poring over what looks like his taxes. “what, for you?” he asks. “buck, you’re not dying.” he blinks. “you’re not dying, right?”

“no more than anyone else at any given moment in time,” buck says, kicking off his shoes and sitting down across from eddie. “but carl was talking about how living funerals are for appreciating your life and the people in it, and i did kind of have that whole dying gives you a new perspective thing, and i just want to—i don’t know. i want to appreciate my life. and the people in it.”

eddie looks at him, and the smile curling across his face is impossibly fond. and if buck were braver, perhaps he’d tack a few extra words into the end of his last sentence. perhaps he’d say i want to appreciate you.

but it’s enough, for now, to sit in the low light of the dining room and listen to the familiar sounds of the house settling around him and watch that smile curve across eddie’s face.

“okay,” eddie says, his hand moving like he’s going to reach out but staying by his side nonetheless. “i guess we’re throwing a funeral.”

#shush emma #emma writes #911 spec fic #911 6x15 #911fic #idk what this is it started as a joke but now i’m like hm

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dreamfyre03 · 3 months

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A Dragon's Love

Trigger Warnings: A bit of swearing, threats, mentions of violence, Aemond being a little obsessive

Chapter 4: The Woes of Courtship

Five years later

At ten and eight, Aemond Targaryen had now grown to become the man widely known throughout the realm as the feared one eyed prince. Most people dared not look him in the eye, his wielded his sword with indescribable skill, as though it were an extension of his person. His continued his schooling even when he didn’t have to, and tutors from all over the realms were brought the King’s Landing to further his knowledge, at his request.

He liked his fearsome reputation, no one dared to cross him, and he liked it that way. He liked being feared.

However, the only rare instance one might see a crack in his carefully curated exterior, was in the presence of his older half sister, Daenys. Aemond couldn’t resist looking at her, trying but sometimes failing to be subtle. She had grown into a beautiful woman, with long silver white hair, much like his own, kind grey-blue eyes one could get lost in. Her body was a woman’s now, with a woman’s curves, and large breasts that Aemond knew sometimes attracted the attention of many a nobleman. She never lost her kind spirit, and although one might make the mistake of thinking she was much like Helaena, gentle and fragile, Aemond knew his sister possessed a dragonfire within her that was just waiting to be unleashed.

He had finished his training with Ser Criston for the day, spoke with his mother after she attended to the King’s council with his grandsire, and paid a visit to Helaena and the children. He turned the corner and entered the library, where he knew she would be, and was met with the sight of her in a red and black dress, for although one might mistake the colours as a symbol of support to their sister, he knew she simply loved to wear their Targaryen colours proudly. She was sitting on the settee, as Aegon sat next to her, clearly trying to convince her of getting involved in one of his foolish ideas, no doubt. “Come now, sister, you know I’d never let anything happen to you.” He heard Aegon tell her.

She simply laughed and shook her head. “Aegon, I’ve no wish to acquire our older sister’s reputation. You can recount your endeavours to me when you come back, as you always do.” She replied. He watched as Aegon leaned in close to her and whisper something, to which she let out another laugh, until she saw him. “Brother,” she greeted him, with a smile. Aemond took a seat on the other side of her, leaving her cushioned between her two brothers.

“What is our brother trying to rope you into this time?” He asked, eyeing Aegon who rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter, for I’ve already told him no” she emphasised her answer to him once again, only prompting him to grin at her cheekily. Aemond never understood how his drunken, whoring brother could be so dearly loved by Daenys, but he let it be.

“You’re a woman grown, sister, a bit of carnal fun might be good for you,” Aegon said, running his finger across her cheek, causing her to roll her eyes at him with faux annoyance.

Aemond glared at Aegon, who ignored his piercing stare.

“Brother, I guarantee that should I go with you to the Street of Silk tonight, I will no doubt be recognised and reported back to your mother.” She said. “You wish to take our sister out to the Street of Silk? Are you mad?” Aemond asked incredulously.

Aegon sighed and got up, “Don’t get all worked up, brother, she won’t come with me. Worry not sister, who knows, one night I might just bring the Street of Silk to you.” He teased, causing Daenys to laugh and toss her book at him, which he surprisingly caught expertly and rested on the table. He soon left them alone, and Aemond said, “You mustn’t let Aegon drag you into such ventures. The Street of Silk is no place for a woman like you.”

Daenys shifted so that she was facing him, sitting comfortably with her feet tucked under her. “A woman like me?” She repeated his words, with a look of amusement. “Brother, need I remind you, as I often must, that I am the elder of us. Just because everyone fears you so doesn’t mean you can lecture me like I am the younger. I can handle Aegon, don’t you worry.”

“They fear me for a reason, sister.”

“Do they? And what will you do if I went with our brother tonight? Kill him?” She looked up at him with those eyes, and Aemond tried not to get lost in them. “I’m ceaselessly tempted to, so I just might.” He said seriously.

“Hmm, well. You don’t scare me, little brother. Tell me, where is the little boy I used to take with me on rides atop Meraxa?” “He died long ago.” “Pity,” She said, studying his face, seeing him in a way only she could. “I quite loved that little boy once. I know he’s still in there, sweet boy, no matter how hard you try to snuff him out.”

Aemond finally looked her back in the eye, and said, “Only for you, Daenys.”, unable to fight the small smile she could always coax out of him.

“I’m glad.” She replied, yawning as she resting her head on his shoulder. Her warmth was like a blanket that encompassed him and made him feel at peace, the incessant angry noise in his head went quiet.

“I am quite exhausted, baby Maelor is quite the bundle of energy, isn’t he?” She said, snuggling into him.

Aemond generally didn’t like physical touch, he didn’t care to be unnecessarily touched by anyone, but, as she was with most things relating to him, Daenys was the exception to the rule. He savoured every touch, when she laughed a little too loudly and her hand would touch his arm, when she would reach up and smooth his long, Targaryen silver locks back into place after they came back from taking the skies together, or like now, when she would lay her head on his shoulder, as he would let her talk tiredly about whatever she wanted, for he could never get tired of hearing her voice.

She smelled his jasmine and lilies, a scent that now, after eighteen years, felt like home to him.

“But, are you too tired to take to the skies with Vhagar and I? Or are you scared Meraxa is, in fact not as fast as my Vhagar?” She shot up instantly, always ready for a challenge. “I shall prove you wrong again, brother. Come, let us be off to the Dragon Pit.” She said with a smile, her red dress effortlessly flowing around her as she moved, and Aemond followed right behind her.

Aemond was in lighter spirits after spending hours in the sky with Daenys and Meraxa, and his usually cold disposition was slightly less guarded as they walked the halls together upon their return. That would not last for long, however, as they rounded the corner and met the handsome young Lord Linus Tyrell. “My Prince, Princess.” He greeted them. Aemond nodded in acknowledgement, his gaze hardened when he observed the Lord of Highgarden’s gaze lingering of the sight of his sister in her riding leathers.

“Lord Tyrell, lovely to see you,” Daenys said politely, and the man smiled in response. “Not as lovely as it is for me to see you, Princess.” He replied, and Aemond felt anger creeping up his spine as he noticed the man taking in his sister in an unsubtle manner, looking at the shape of her body through the fitted riding leathers, which was arguably less conservative than a dress.

Daenys simply gave him a cordial smile, as he continued to speak. “I’ve only just arrived from Highgarden today. It is particularly lovely this time of year.” “How sad it must be for you to leave it behind then,” His sister replied.

“Indeed. A beauty such as yourself would put the blooms of Highgarden to shame, Princess.” He said, and Aemond fought the urge to roll his eye. “You are too kind, my Lord. I’m afraid I’m awfully tired, my brother and I have just returned from the Dragonpit. But I do hope you enjoy your stay in the capital.”

“I believe I will. I hope to see you again soon, Princess.” He told her, as he bid them both farewell on went on his way.

They walked on in companionable silence until they reached his sister’s rooms, and she bade him goodnight with a chaste kiss and went into her chambers. Aemond began to walk to his own rooms, only a few doors down, but could not get they way Lord Tyrell oogled this sister out of his head, and thought he might speak to his mother as to if she were aware of the man’s intentions.

He quickened his steps but stopped outside the door when he heard his mother and grandfather conversing quietly. “He is a good match. We can never have too many allies in the Reach.” He heard his grandsire say. “Indeed, but it is not I who can grant Lord Tyrell permission to court Daenys, only the King can.” His mother replied.

“Yes, daughter, but we both know the King is in no state to consider such an idea. Not to mention, in the past he has rejected every marriage proposal that has come her way. In any case, when the King meets the stranger, it is the next ruler who will be responsible for her marriage.” “Rhaenyra will not care enough to see her sister wed.” His mother said. “You know that is not of whom I speak. Aegon is rather close to the girl, I suspect when he is king, he would marry her to a lord present at court, to keep her close to him. But that won’t serve our purposes much, will it?”

He heard his mother sigh. “Very well. I shall grant him permission to court her, but should a match be the outcome, it is the King who has the final say.” “A wise choice. She would make a fine Lady of Highgarden, I believe.”

Aemond felt himself fuming with anger. He immediately turned himself away from the doors and walked away, lest his rage get the better of him and he did something he might regret. It didn’t surprise him that they spoke so openly of usurping his sister, and in all fairness he didn’t care, for why should the mother of bastards sit the throne? Although, his brother wasn’t exactly suited for the role either. But the politics amounted to nothing when compared to the fact that they wanted to marry his sister off the that Tyrell lord, who was clearly not worthy of her. He felt as though he could burn down King’s Landing with Vhagar at the very thought of her wedding him, letting him touch her, bed her, it made him sick. She wasn’t the Lord of Highgarden’s to claim, and he would damn well make sure of it.

The next morning, Aemond stopped by the nursery to see Helaena and Daenys with the children. Helaena was braiding Jaehaera’s hair, while Jaehaerys played with a toy sword he had been gifted by his father. Maelor was sat atop Daenys’s lap, who bumped him gently on her knee as she sang softly to him.

He sat with them, conversing about a number of things, including the upcoming celebrations to be held in a few months for Aemond’s name day, which he didn’t care for, but his mother insisted. He still hadn’t forgotten what he’d heard last night, and it returned to the forefront of his mind when he heard Helaena ask, “When will you meet Lord Tyrell?”

Aemond’s head snapped to attention, turning to listen as Daenys replied, “After his meeting with your mother and grandsire, I believe.” “He is quite handsome,” Helaena teased, and Daenys shook her head at her sister with an amused expression.

“I suppose.” Was all she said. “He’s a pompous ass is what is is,” Aemond muttered under his breath. “What was that brother?” Helaena asked innocently. Daenys eyed him with a knowing expression, but instead he said, “I was only asking why are you meeting Lord Tyrell, sister?”

“Your mother suggested I take him for a walk in the gardens. I don’t mind, really.” She told him. His mother had clearly began the matchmaking efforts already. He hadn’t a moment to waste.

He abruptly bid his sisters and niece and nephews farewell, and walked until he saw the Lord Tyrell himself, seemingly heading for his mother’s sitting room. “Lord Tyrell.” Aemond greeted in a dark tone as he the man greeted him. “Prince Aemond. A pleasure, my prince, to see you this morning. I’m on my way to speak to the Queen, as it happens.” He said, seemingly eager to get to his destination. “My mother can wait. I believe we ought to have a word, my lord.” Aemond spoke clearly implying the man had no choice in the matter. He saw him gulp nervously at Aemond’s terrifyingly calm expression and nodded, as he followed Aemond into an empty study nearby.

Aemond shut the door, creating a menacing feel in the room that was totally silent until Aemond spoke. “It is my understanding that you wish to court my sister.” Aemond finally broke the silence, looking down on the older man, who wasn’t that much older than Aemond, about twenty and six, but Aemond’s towering frame and commanding presence clearly set the tone that he was the one in power here. “I do, my prince.” He replied, unsuccessfully hiding his nervousness. “So, you think yourself worthy of my sister? Of the blood of the dragon, do you?” Aemond asked as he somewhat absentmindedly pulled out his dagger and looked at it with a bored expression. “Well, I would like to hope the Princess finds me worthy, my Prince.” He answered, his eye darting back and forth from Aemond’s face to the dagger in his hand.

Aemond looked at him with an amused expression. “Allow me to spare my sister the effort. You are not. You are not worthy of my sister, you will rescind your request to court her, you will stay away from her, and you will return to Highgarden back to smelling the flowers or whatever the fuck you Tyrells do there. Am I clear?” Lord Tyrell bravely look Aemond in the eye and said, “Forgive me, my prince, but you do not decide who can court the princess. Only the King and Queen boast such authority.” Aemond gave a small laugh, but it lacked any warmth, it was a threatening laugh, one that struck fear in the Lord, who suddenly wished he didn’t try to stand his ground with one of the most feared men in the Seven Kingdoms.

In a flash, Aemond had the man cornered into the wall, and had the blade pressed to his neck before he even had a fighting chance. “I am feeling merciful today, so I will repeat myself again. You will withdraw your request to court my sister. You will stay far away from her. If I see your hungry gazing so much as linger past her face, I will personally carve your eyes out myself, and have them sent back to Highgarden. And if you breath a word of this conversation to the Queen, or the Hand, or Princess Daenys, then I will ensure that you are begging for the mercy of a quick death. I am a patient man, my lord, I am more than capable of keeping you alive for days whilst I feed you torture in ways that would have the bravest of men cowering. Do we have an understanding?”

As he spoke, the blade in his hand was pressing harder and harder into the man’s neck, until a spot of blood appeared and leaked onto his collar. He nodded fearfully, saying, “Yes my prince, I apologise.” Aemond withdrew himself. “Good. You may leave.” Lord Tyrell all but ran from the room, and Aemond wiped his dagger clean before putting it back in his scabbard. That very same day, his sister no longer met Lord Tyrell in the gardens, as he informed the Queen of an unexpected emergency back at Highgarden, and left King’s Landing that same day, and Aemond smiled in satisfaction at the man’s petrified expression as he bid them farewell and left to return home. It was that day Aemond knew, he would never let anyone take Daenys from him.

#aemond targaryen #aemond fic #aemond one eye #aemond smut #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd aemond #hotd #oc #helaena targaryen #aegon ii #alicent hightower #daeron targaryen

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roydeezed · 3 months

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Dungeon Meshi Episode 8 shows us the heart of the series

If you're a new watcher, I feel like Episode 8 is the perfect episode to show off the series' charm as well as hook viewers. For people trying to get their friends into it, it's also the perfect episode to throw them into, to convince them. The art and animation is top notch, with characters being their goofiest selves. The fireside storytelling really lends to the shows cozy atmosphere. The worldbuilding rears it's head as well, with the instance about the guano and slime and the adventurers controlling the population putting into perspective the thought behind the series in a almost meta textual props from Ryoko Kui to herself. And we get to see the beating heart of the series that is Falin. Which is what I really want to talk about.

Falin is quite literally the beating heart of the show. The telltale heart that's been ripped out and is missing, but still beating somewhere within the walls of the dungeon. She is the reason for the journey itself and also how we see the redeemable, caring and loving side of our heroes. Laois as a big brother, Chilchuck as a friend, and Marcille as a... "friend". But despite all of that, she's gone for most of the story. It's not until episode 8 where we learn about her personality other than her being self sacrificing. But that's why it works. She haunts the narrative in so many different ways. In a masterful stroke of storytelling, Ryoko Kui was somehow able to meld gothic romance with a high fantasy adventure. Falin literally haunts the main characters through the architecture, the dungeon itself a constant reminder of their failure and the love the party and Falin have for each other. We see her as small, frail, and weak, but ultimately someone incredibly admirable for sticking to her sense of self, something the narrative rewards her for. This episode also calls back to this empty hole in the party. Falin knows healing magic. Falin knew about the slime, she might've known about the Undine. Falin was at harmony with many of the things they find themselves coming up against. There's also a sharp contrast between what I can only describe as Marcille's "failgirl" tendencies and her reputation as a prodigy with Falins reputation as a slacker and the constant invoking of her name in a manner akin to a savior, someone who would know what to do. This episode completes the picture, in a very early rough draft sense of the phrase, of Falin and the motivation behind the journey. They have to rescue her, yes, but she isn't a damsel in distress. Because they've already failed her. She's dead. All they can hope for is to be able to somehow revive her and maybe redeem themselves in the end. And she was a vital member of their party in so many ways that her missing presence is felt almost through the entire journey. Finally, that little part about Falin being lonely until Marcille showed up puts a bow on top of everything. Her loneliness in the past contrasts with how alone she must be in death, another specter of a thought that hangs over them.

P.S. I gotta gush about the worldbuilding cause I really didn't appreciate it the first time around that I read it cause watching that guano and slime scene animated made me flashback to my first D&D campaign where I'd given one of my players some magic beans. The dungeon started in a cave filled with bats before going on with proper cobblestone and torches and other dungeon fixtures. The bean player asked if there was any bat guano on the ground and scooped it up. When the climactic fight of the dungeon was near its end, the players having found a really great strategy to wear down the boss to his last few hit points, the bean player made a really high DC roll to throw both the guano and beans into the boss's mouth, killing him using the instant growth effect of the magic beans. At the time I was so impressed by what my player had done because I hadn't even considered what the guano could be used for until the fight happened. It was such a taken for granted feature that there's just normal dungeon stuff in a dungeon. You don't really ask about the mundane, even though they're there. It's kind of like a painted on door, if you wanted to interact with it, it opens up a whole room of new possibilities. And Ryoko Kui turned that whole premise of accepted fixtures into an amazingly vibrant world. Dungeon Meshi manages to explore the relationship of the world with itself while keeping a really cozy and kind heart and I feel like that can't be admired enough.

#dunmeshi #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #friend in quotes for those who read it

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