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#we can't salvage everything
sschmendrick · 1 year
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I shouldn't have seen that scheduled post now I'm thinking about them like I haven't been thinking about them for the past week, month
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pinkpeccary · 6 months
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i would like the computer problems to stop please
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fillinforlater · 3 months
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On her jeans (Part 1 of 3)
Male Reader x Kim Minji
Length: 3128 words
Tags: backstory, sex as payment, degradation, all things blowjob: face fuck, deep throat, gagging, chocking, throat bulging, rough face sex, training, passive hand job, master/daddy kink, desperate_trainee!Minji
TW: Minji is selling herself here kinda (oh no)
Credit: @sooyadelicacies for co-writing this crazy series with me. Mad lad!
-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3-
(A/N: Hey you! I know you're reading this. Get ready for your favorite girls to get defiled one-by-one. Goon or go (or something like that, sounded cooler in my head). For everyone else, have fun!)
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"Huh? Minji? What are you doing here?" 
Kazuha asks, surprised to see the still-trainee on this floor of the HYBE building, knocking on an unoccupied training room that she has nothing to do with usually.
"I-I came here to ask you about something,” the younger stutters. “I heard you were personally selected for LE SSERAFIM—and that there is some backer for your success. Even th-the group's scandal went away without a hitch. 
“Who is helping you, who is he?"
"What are you talking about?" Kazuha responds, face in scrunches. 
"I know that you know, Unnie," Minji says and catches the door before Kazuha can close it again. "I need answers, please. I-I've seen their plans, this is going to blow up, we'll be a failure, HYBE's loving stock.
"I can't fail this."
Kazuha looks at the determined young girl, her face loosening up a bit, turning from trying to defend her future spot at your side from a new rival to worrying for Minji. She curls her finger and Minji enters the otherwise empty training room.
"You have some dangerous knowledge," the Japanese woman then says. "Asking for this—I think you have no idea what you might get into."
"Doesn’t everyone say this about the industry?" Minji responds with wit and looks at Kazuha's sweaty body in the mirror. "Everyone always shares their doubts, from the moment you start. And now we are here, ready to debut. I know I have talent, but will it be enough?"
"You really want this, Minji?"
"Yes, Unnie, more than anything."
"How old are you?"
"Eighteen. Why do you—"
"I'll give you his number." Kazuha sighs deeply, but nonetheless, her words have Minji in a delighted dance. "I'll tell him that you are good, so be good, be honest to him. I'm doing you a favor here."
"Thank you so much, Unnie!"
"But be careful: he is greedy, he wants more than you can imagine, so be ready to give him everything. And also—" 
Kazuha pinches Minji's chin, tilts it towards her piercing eyes and whispers in the most kind yet threatening voice: 
"Never try to get between him and me."
"Oh my—your concept, these plans. They are fucking terrible. It's going to take a lot to salvage this, even you seem to know that, Minji." There is no need for you to hold back. If you think a plan is bad, you better tell someone before they fail. You’ve seen your fair share of bad plans, but not by HYBE and not to this extreme.
"I-I know. I tried to tell them, but the managers just shut me down.” Minji puts her arms back on her thighs. They were just dramatically cast into the air to get her point across, but the young girl saw your unimpressed gaze and quickly got professional again. “They are running us straight into a brick wall."
"I've seen many examples like this. A lot of companies think they can do no wrong, especially when a lot of time has passed since their latest failure." 
You give Minji her tablet back and rest your chin on one hand, the other tapping the giant desk before you. You are deep in thought, at least Minji should believe that. Instead you are looking into her eyes, mariana trenches of passion, hopefulness, determination. Minji has a pretty face, leadership qualities, all the skills of a superstar but most importantly, she has some thick lips that will be perfect for cock sucking. 
Okay, you are getting ahead of yourselves. The other big thing she has is the willingness to trade everything for her dream, for hope, maybe for fame too. She will give her dignity for glory—and you will make her do it right fucking now.
"This is a difficult case," you say slowly, watching her expression shift a bit, not yet gloomy but getting there. "Luckily, I and HYBE still have the time and resources to make your debut a success. People will talk about it for a long time. I can even guarantee you a music show win from the get go."
"Really? Oh my God, thank you so much, sir. You are way too kind." Minji jumps from her seat and takes a deep, formal bow. "I hope I can lay all of this in your hand?"
"You sure can, Minji, but you know this comes with a price, a hefty one at that. This cannot be solved with two phone calls and some convincing. Hell, I barely have any time." You stand up from your chair and look at the young woman, upper body still tilted but her huge eyes fixed on you, now you’re in front of her. You still dwarf her and she only now knows that she is completely outmatched and will pay up.
"I-I will give you everything, as soon as I can," she stutters. "I only need some time and, and—"
"But I need it now, Minji. Right fucking now.
"Get on your knees."
"Sir?" Minji asks, shocked. "On my knees? Do-do you want me to beg?" 
You snort. “I thought you were smarter. What did Zuha tell you exactly?” 
“H-how did you know—?”
“Minji, what you're asking for requires a complete 180. Your entire concept will have to be changed. From what I’ve heard, you need some new songs too. I have someone in mind who can spearhead your group but she's a wildcard, batshit insane really, but the right kind of crazy needed for something like this. But all of this will take a lot of fucking effort, time and money. And I need you to prove your worth, now."
Push down on Minji's shoulders until she winces and sinks to the floor. Black tiles, hard, cold and somewhat reflective. You know that for a moment all of them hesitate when seeing the rough outline of their head mirrored back to them. Are they really going to do it? Is this what they have to sell? Is it worth it? 
Those that stayed are now superstars and because Minji somehow knew about it and had the guts to look for you, there is not a single doubt in you that she will devote herself to you.
"I can make your dreams come true," you proclaim calmly, yet your words put Minji under unbearable pressure. "Fame, money, success are all guaranteed, out of question, beyond that everything is possible. When you just stay there, on your knees and open your pretty mouth—"
A zip and your semi-hard cock is released, to the absolute shock of Minji, whose mental image of her face is replaced by the first phallus she has ever seen before her eyes. 
"—I'll fulfill your desires."
Minji looks up at you and gulps. She thought the auditions and training evaluations were the final tests respectively, but now her entire career comes down to this one huge cock right in front of her. She curses the producers, the managers, those idiots at Ador—their mistakes have to be redeemed by her sucking dick and lowering to the level of a desperate whore.
Minji has no option. Idols are born from hardship and this is just another step, she believes. So her lips part a little, and when she locks eyes with you, they part a lot more. With a satisfied groan, you shove your cock deep into her throat.
"From now on, you'll call me Master. Later will be Daddy, but not until you've proven worthy. Your next few weeks will be rough, new people, new songs, new choreos." The first tears form in Minji's gorgeous eyes as gags bounce through your office. "I don't care how tired or sweaty you are, when I call you, you come to me right after practice, no excuses. You will obey every fucking wish, especially because I have so much work with you."
You drag your balls over her chin, let your cock rest at the top of her mouth and open it wide. Minji is clumsy with her teeth and with the way she tries to dodge your thrust, be it intentionally or out of fear. This is of course vastly inferior compared to a blowjob from all those second and third gen stars you've made big after giving them your big cock.
The only redeeming, already great quality, are her lips. Natural, not a talent or skill. She'd be a lot better just not moving, not thinking, a fleshlight, but how should such a young woman know?
"I assume you're smart enough to understand all this," you tell her expectantly and pull out. Minji leans forward and coughs up her saliva on your floor. You grab her hair and pull it back, get ready to spit at her, but she has wit.
"Ye-yes, Master. Excuse my incompetence, I—you're so big."
"No crying? No regrets? Well, that's more impressive than your blowjob skills. How about you clean up your incompetence?"
You take a step back and pull her face down, down by the hair, onto the tiles where her spurts of saliva lay. Minji hisses out in pain, you know she stares down angrily, shocked at how rude you are to her. She grits her teeth—
"Yes, Master, sorry, Master."
—and begins to lick the floor, slowly and only with the tip of her small tongue.
You are mildly impressed that she adjusted to her situation rather quickly. It is the sign of a prodigy in bloom. 
"I am curious, baby girl. I was informed you didn't really set out to become an idol. So why put yourself through all of this?" You muse and question her. Minji's eyes widened a little, finally shifting from their bristling anger. "Oh, I know everything about you, Kim Minji. It is my job to know and then some. So tell me: what is your ambition? What is your desire?"
"Who doesn't dream of being famous?" Minji says, determination in her eyes which she has pointed at you like sharp, pointy arrows. "I want to be a star, the idol that all my classmates, parents, grown-ups have never seen in me. I want to show them how wrong they were."
"Too bad that even after joining the great and successful HYBE, you are about to be their first blunder," you taunt her and slap her forehead with your cock. "Good thing you're ready to suck cock for some adjustments of their mistakes."
Minji puckers her lips and a bit carelessly gets your cock back onto them, spreading small licks on your cockhead. "This is nothing, I know hardship."
"Oh, 
"You call this nothing?"
You tsk and slap her face with your cock.
"You know hardship? Do tell, Minji..." You grip her head and begin to plunge into her mouth. "Hardship? We haven't even started yet. I'm not even at full size, stupid girl!" 
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You see her eyes widening as tears begin to form with your rough treatment. Thinking back to Minji's words, you read her well. People doubted her—you could too. She wasn't so different from the others you've trained. All they needed was education to rely on you, devotion to you and love for you and only you.
"Make sure to keep your fucking teeth off of it," you growl while your fingers search for new ways to pull at her hair, to push her away and then slam her back down on your cock which is finally hardening at the arousal her fearful face brings. The inside of Minji's mouth grows wetter, sloppier, warmer, until suddenly—
The annoyance of her teeth returns and it stings. To start with blowjobs has both been a disaster for your pleasure but intense fuel to introduce Minji to the harsh reality that is you; you and the success that you bring. Everything she has ever wanted, you can bring her, and so she fights trough the tears and accepts that you press her flat on the floor and fuck down into her mouth like it's a pussy.
"Open wide, open wide," you repeatedly command, a hand on Minji's jaw to help her make this command come true. "You useless slut, don't waste your lips on such pathetic blowjobs. Fucking hell, when I'm done with you, you better deepthroat like a mid porn star.
"Fucking waste of my time, you stupid stupid girl. This is the standard HYBE is accepting now? Fuck, maybe we can't even blame the company for your group's future failure—it will all just be on you. If you don't fucking step it up, this is the last time you will ever contact me." 
Gaze still intensely focused on her, you pull out your cell phone and unlock it. You don’t really use it for much, except for phone calls, but this alone makes this device insanely valuable. You however don’t need to make a phone call now. You only need to show Minji one thing: your contact list.
She can see you scrolling past the names of tons of people, all in the industry. Well known producers, managers, executives, staff members, but most importantly, all highlighted by a colorful array of yellow, orange, red and pink: 
The full names of hundreds of female idols. Minji scans through the list, recognizing one Unnie after the other, from nugu second gen groups to absolute super stars.
You pull out of Minji's mouth, give her time to cough up all leftover spit and wipe her tears away. Ultimately, you help her up from the cold hard floor, the only thing still laying on the floor is her pride.
"Do you get it now?" you ask and look at her, eyebrows raised with the highest of expectations.
"Yes, Master."
"Then you know what you have to do."
"De-deepthroat like a p-porn star."
"Can you do that?"
Minji hesitates, something you cannot stand for the love of everything. You grab her hips and throw her on your desk, spin her until her head is hanging off of the table. With no further warning, because she does not deserve those anymore, you press your cock on her lips and fill more than her mouth. Minji's throat starts to visibly bulge from the massive width of your cock. 
Of course she is gagging, kicking her feet but that isn't even a flight response. There is no need for you to pin her down. She wants to stay, wants to become a good slut, a stupid girl that can suck your entire cock. Sadly, her newfound eagerness isn't rewarded with success. She needs training and stretching and so you stretch Minji's throat with lazy thrust and train her nose to accept your balls on them.
"You're so silly, but finally, we have some effort, Minji," you growl and reach into the top of her shirt. "We can work from here."
You fondle her breasts, run your hands down her soft stomach. 
"Good, I can definitely work with this. You remind me of—" 
But you pause, not wanting to divulge any advantages for her to pick up on. She looks like an absolute fuck doll as her head continues hang off the table. Even upside down, it was pretty when stuffed with your cock, your balls now touching her lips with each plunge. 
"Minji, it's not enough to deepthroat like a porn star. You'll learn to deepthroat like one of my perfect sluts, whores. Porn star is a start, but it will soon be an insult to you.”
She had no idea that her consideration as a future perfect whore meant you already took a liking to her. As of now, all she knew—no, all she could think of—was your cock and that she needed to keep her teeth off of it. It needed to fuck her throat if she wanted any chance at a great career. 
And so Minji takes it, acts like a whore who willingly gets gag induced drool over her face, then fat, filled balls on her nose and accepts the greedy hands all over her midriff. Minji always thought that she needs this tight, perfect form for the approvement of the public—now it's you who decides if her body is acceptable and ripe for a fucking. 
Your seal of approval is the frantic way you tear open her shirt, then her bra and start to knead her breasts, while her tongue movements become actually enjoyable. You thrust harder, making Minji's face pale as she struggles to get air. She looks gorgeous like that, so you slap her tummy and before the choking is too hard, you back off and pull your pants up.
"That's it for today," you say as Minji still gasps for air. "From now on, you'll be here everyday after practice."
Short silence, disbelief in her eyes. "H-huh—yes, Master."
"The door will be open. Walk in and lay down on the table, just like this. You will wait until I return or have time for you. It doesn't matter what happens, you will lay there until I am finished with you."
"Yes, Master."
"A lot will change." You rub sweat and spit off her temple with a gentle hand and look at her glassy eyes. "You might not get any sleep at all. Now you will learn true adversity.
"Okay, fuck it. You don't deserve this, but I don't care."
Pull your pants back down and lower your balls onto Minji's mouth. This time, there is no hesitation, and she opens her fuckable lips wide. Her tongue starts to twirl around your sac while you begin to jerk yourself off. When Minji finally starts to suck, you feel a satisfying conclusion to this messy meeting arriving. But—
"Why would I do it myself? Get your hand here!"
You find one of Minji's hands and start to spit on each finger. Like a waterfall, it runs down until you deem it lubricated enough. Then you put them around your manhood and begin to thrust. It's a lot colder than a pussy, but Minji seems to instinctively know how to tighten the gap, the grip, her hand-pussy suddenly becomes worth cumming in.
Take a final breath and climax, each pump sending long streaks of pearly white on Minji's body. You cover her in seed until one long line, from her navel to her throat, forms and you admire how carefully she worships your balls. Wipe your cockhead clean on her hand and make a mental note to have this soft palm be a useful masturbation aid for another time.
"Who would've thought that you're already in love with my balls?" You almost crack a smile through your stone cold facade. "A good sign that you're already a whore."
"M-Master, I..."
"Shut the fuck up.
"Tomorrow, after practice. No underwear, no questions, no one is allowed to know."
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dixieconley · 4 months
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How did Obi-Wan not notice the thing with R2D2?? And what if he did?
Obi-Wan: We need to talk about your issues with attachment. Anakin: ::panicking, thinking Obi-Wan's found out about his marriage:: You had a relationship with Satine Kryze! Obi-Wan: … And Ki-Adi-Mundi is married. Jedi can have relationships, Anakin. We've talked about this. Anakin: … I think I would have remembered that.
[Many many past conversations: Obi-Wan: ::lecturing:: Attachment… the code… meditation. Anakin: ::busy tinkering:: Yes, yes, master. Whatever you say, master. Obi-Wan: This is fine. This absolutely will not come back to bite me in the ass later.]
Obi-Wan: Regardless, we need to talk about your attachment issues. Anakin: What issues? You just *said* marriage is okay. Obi-Wan: ::derailed:: What's that about marriage? Anakin: This isn't about me and Padme being married? Obi-Wan: … Obi-Wan: No. Anakin: This is about what I did when my mom died then, isn't it? Obi-Wan: … Anakin: ::getting defensive:: They deserved it! Tuskens are animals. Obi-Wan: ::rubbing his nose:: Anakin. Stop guessing. You're literally making this worse with every word out of your mouth. There happens to be a Tusken Jedi. You've *met* him. Anakin:: ::sheepish:: Oh. So, um, what's this about then? ::finally listening for the first time in the past three years:: Obi-Wan: I came here to talk to you about the salvage operation you ran to rescue R2D2. Anakin: ::puzzled:: Master? You ordered me to go on that mission. Obi-Wan: ::pinching his nose:: Anakin, you do realize that the mission would have been completely unnecessary had you just wiped the droid as per procedure? Anakin: But R2's my buddy. I wouldn't do that to him. Obi-Wan: You got all but two of the men who went with you killed in an attempt to rescue a droid! Anakin: So? I would have done the same for Padme. Or Ahsoka, Obi-Wan: … Obi-Wan: You see no issue in trading sentient lives for an inanimate object. That, Anakin is the very definition of attachment and why you either see a mind healer or go to Jedi jail. Anakin: What? You can't make me see a mind healer! Obi-Wan: You're right. Jedi Jail it is. Anakin: Noooo! I'm gonna tell my good friend the Chancellor on you! Obi-Wan: ::fed-up with everything and feeling both sassy and sarcastic:: Oh, and what's he going to do, order the clones to turn on us and massacre all the Jedi right down to the initiates in the creche? The Force: ::shouting:: YES!!! Obi-Wan:: ::facepalm:: That absolutely came back and bit me in the ass.
Later: Cody: You have a Jedi jail? Obi-Wan: No. Cody: Sir? Obi-Wan: Seemed like a safe bet. ::bitter: He obviously ignored everything else I tried to teach him. Cody: Jedi can marry? Obi-Wan: Yes. Cody: Jedi. As in you. Obi-Wan: As in... Cody: ::suddenly two inches closer:: Obi-Wan: ::squeaking:: Me? Cody: ::smoulders:: Obi-Wan: After the war. Chain of command. Would be inappropriate. Because reasons. Cody: I see.
Two days later: Fox: ::eyeing the assortment of munitions Cody's just laid on his desk, including, but not limited to, slug throwers, thermal detonators, a handful of droid poppers and a rotary cannon:: So you say that the chancellor's a direct threat to the military command of the GAR and that I get to kill him if I agree to mute my external audio pickup and follow your orders? Cody: Yes. Is there a problem? ::looms menacingly:: Fox: ::jumps up:: No takesies backsies! Thorn! Thire! It's Lifeday and Cody's just got us all a present!
~~~
Palps gets wrekt. The Corries have the Best. Day. Ever.
Cody and Obi-Wan swear the riduurok. No one is surprised.
The mind healers ending *building* a Jedi jail just so they don't have to listen to Anakin whine any longer. (R2D2 has the option of joining Anakin. Which, no. C3PO is welcome to that. R2D2 is having none of that shit. Time to head back to his original family -- the handmaidens of Naboo. Who will let him have a little murder. As a treat.)
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heartofjasmina · 7 months
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The first time gardener!reader calls pro hero!Katsuki crying, he's at your place in 10 minutes flat.
You stumble out of the house and into his arms, sobbing your heart out and freaking Katsuki the fuck out. "What's wrong sweetheart? Please, please just tell me what's wrong so I can make it better." He has no shame in begging right now. The woman he loves (he can admit it now, after months of working on the garden together, after getting to know what a kind and delicate soul you are, he knows this is love) is in pain and he needed to do all he can to make it stop.
"Y-you can't, they, they--" you break off with a sob and that's when he notices the front of the house is barren. There's no wildflowers or mint anywhere, and he starts to get a sinking feeling in his gut.
"They cut down your garden?" He asks quietly, trying not to let his anger show- because that's not what you need right now.
You nod, looking so heartbroken he wants to hunt down the bastards responsible and punch them in the throat. "I asked the landscapers to mow the grass and trim the bushes, and then I went out back and... everything was gone. My trees, Katsuki, they even cut down my trees."
"Oh baby I'm so sorry." The endearment slips out without him thinking, but you just nuzzle into him closely and let him rock you while you cry.
"I'll help you rebuild it. I promise okay? Next spring we'll start early and try to salvage all that we can. Plants are strong, you taught me that. They might grow back." He speaks soft and gentle, rubbing your back and tucking your head under his chin.
After he finally gets you to calm down enough to go back inside, he makes you some tea, planning to find the landscapers and show them what happens when you fuck with someone under the protection of a Hero.
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dailyadventureprompts · 3 months
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Monsters Reimagined: Yeenoghu, Demon Lord of Insatiable Hunger
It's been some years since I did my overhaul on the lore of the gnolls and how they embody the weird de/humanization that goes on with various monsters over d&d's history. Ever since I've had more than a few folks write in asking about how I would handle the default Gnoll God Yeenoghu, who exists in a similar state of "Kill everything that ever existed" to Orcus and a good portion of the game's other late game threats, thematically flat and not really useful for building stories around.
For a while I've avoided doing this post because I thought it might skew a little too close to my personal philosophy, and risk going from simply being influenced by my views to an outright soapbox. I personally hold that despite being part of our nature hunger is the source of the majority of human cruelty, and if society and cooperation are the tools we developed to best fight against the threat of famine, it is fear of that famine that allows the powerful to control society and secure their positions of privilege.
I've also dealt with disordered eating in a prior period of my life, alternating between neglecting my body's needs and punishing myself for needing in the first place. I'm well acquainted with hunger and the hollowing effect it can have, though I'd never claim to know it so well as someone who went hungry by anything other than choice and self hatred.
Learning to love food again saved saved my life. The joy of eating, of feeling whole and nourished, yes, but there was also the joy of making: of experimenting, improving, providing, being connected to a great tradition of cultivation which has guided our entire species.
If I was going to talk about an evil god of hunger, I was going to have to touch on all of that, and now that it's out in the open I can continue with a more thematic and narrative discussion on the beast of butchery below the cut.
What's wrong: Going by the default lore, there's not much that really separates Yeenoghu from any other chaotic evil mega-boss. He wants to kill everything in vicious ways, and encourages his followers to do the same. He's there so that the evil clerics can have someone to pray to because the objectively good gods are on the party's side and wouldn't help a bunch of cannibalistic slavers.
This is boring, we've done this song and dance before, and the only reason that there are so many demon lords/evil gods/archdevils like this is because the bioessentialism baked into the older editions of the game's lore was also a theological essentialism, and that every group had to have their own gods which perfectly embodied their ethos and there was no crossover whatsoever, themes be damned.
Normally I'd do a whole section about "what can be salvaged" from an old concept, but we're scraping the bottom of the barrel right from the inset. Likewise my trick of combining multiple bits of underwritten d&d mythology to make a sturdier concept isn't going to work as most of d&d's other gods of hunger or famine are similar levels of paper thin.
How do we fix it: I want Yeenoghu to be the opposite of the path I found myself on, a hunger so great and so painful that it percludes happiness, cooperation, or even rational thought. Hunger not as a sumptuous hedonistic gluttony but a hollowing emptiness that compels violence and desperation. More than just psychopathic slaughter and gore, it is becalmed sailors drinking seawater to quench their thirst, the urban poor mixing sawdust and plaster into their food because their wages are not enough to afford grain.
This is where we get the idea of Yeenoghu as an enemy of society, not because violence is antithical to society ( I think we've learned by now how structured violence can really be) but because society fundamentally breaks down when it can't take care of the people who provide its foundations. Contrast the Beast of Butchery with one of my other favourite villainous famine spirits: Caracalla the grim trader, who embodies scarcity as a form of profit and control in to Yeenoghu's scarcity as suffering.
Into this we can also add the idea of the hungry dead, ghouls yes but also vampires, anything cursed with an eternal existence and appetites it no longer has the ability to sate. A large number of cultures across the world share the idea that the dead cannot rest while they are starving, which is why we leave offerings of food by their graves or pour out a glass to the ones we lost along the way.
On that topic, there's also a scrap of lore involving Doresain god of ghouls, who has been depicted as an on and off servant of Yeenoghu. Since I'm already remaking the mythology, I'd have Doresain act as a sort of saint or herald for the demon lord, the wicked but still partially reasonable entity who can villain monolog before the feral and all consuming demon god shows up.
Summing it all up: Yeenoghu isn't a demon you wittingly worship, it's a demon that claims you, marks you as its mouthpiece and through you seeks to consume more of the world. It gives you just enough strength to keep on living, keep on suffering, keep on filling that hole in your belly and feed it in turn.
The greatest of these mouthpieces is Doresain, an elf of ancient times who's unearthly hungers elevated him to demigod status. Known as the knawbone king, he dwells within a dread domain of the shadowfell, and is sought out only for his ability to intercede with the maw-fiend's rampages.
Signs: Unnaturally persistent hunger pangs, excessive drool and gurgling stomach noises, the growth of extra teeth in the mouth, stomachs splitting open into mouths.
Symbols: An animal with three jaws, a three tailed flail or spiked whip. A crown of knawed bones (Doresain)
Titles: Beast of butchery, the maw fiend, the knawing god
Artist
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periwinkla · 1 month
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I think what I love the most about AA is that characters have a duality to them that I don't see often in media. They have actual flaws and do actual bad things, and it's not glossed over. Phoenix is a fundamentally good person, he helps people at the drop of a hat, risks his life for them. Has a penchant for taking strays under his wing. He believes in people... but also not really. He carries a literal lie detector with him at all times, and only employs people who can also peer into other people's hearts. So is he really that trusting? Sure he trusts his clients are innocent, but he doesn't trust they will tell him the truth at all (there's always something to lie about). He believes himself naive, and that's why he works extra hard not to be. Some people think he changed with his disbarment but I feel like when he actually changed was after Dahlia. He became less and less trusting as time went on. And Phoenix actually does forge evidence and risks his subordinate's career, and he says pretty nasty things sometimes (that one time to Edgeworth had got to hurt, badly, especially if you consider that the note could have been genuine at first, which we don't know for sure), has a pretty tactless and somewhat hurtful sense of humor, brings his daughter to cheat at poker, and doesn't tell said daughter she actually has some family left alive. He's secretive, elusive and cryptic, and masks it under a false pretence of goofiness. Miles is, by contrast, very easy to read. He may appear emotionally stunted but is one of the more emphathetic characters. He realizes when he's wrong and immediately needs to correct those wrongs. He grows uneasy and uncertain and eventually recognizes when he's mistaken. By the end of it he begins to help people naturally, without even thinking about it as much as he would have in the past. He helps so many people, he has basically got Phoenix's savior complex 2.0 but the healthy kind where he doesn't jump off a bridge. But... he was also actually cruel, and did send innocent people to their graves (was he really so naive to believe whichever defendant came his way was guilty?). He feigned his death disregarding other people's feelings, and while you could say he had no obligation towards Phoenix (apart from basic decency and respect towards someone who had turned his life around to save him), he still abandoned Franziska, who was still just a kid and had just discovered her father was a psychopath. She probably thought, at some point, that the apple didn't fall that far from the tree. That's it's somehow her fault as well. He may be rude and antagonistic, frank to a fault. Isn't afraid of telling stuff to your face. But he also cares about the people he loves so much, to the point he doesn't hesitate to risk his career and break the law multiple times. He may appear a pessimist but he's pretty idealistic at heart, it's quite funny that his favourite show is about an hero of justice, isn't it? Godot is... well, we don't know much about it from before his coma, but he definitely shared Mia's sentiments for helping people in their hour of need. But when he wakes from a 6-year coma he's so broken that he just pins the blame on the most absurd person to blame it on, settles on a complicated plan, and also prosecutes on that particular murder he should just confess upon. Iris was sweet, innocent, self-sacrificing. She knew absolutely nothing about the world apart from what Bikini or her sister told her. She was naive and falsely thought she could fix everything, that her sister was salvageable, that she could save Phoenix. But she still ended up lying to the person she loved and abetting a murder. That's why I love these characters so much. They're interesting and their stories make sense. People don't remain unchanged from what happens to them. People are multi-faceted and complex. You can't sum them up in a bunch of characteristics and aspect them to act on every single one of them, always, consistently. Sometimes people break. They make mistakes they regret, ...and some they don't.
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luveline · 5 months
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hiii, i just wanna say i absolutely adoreee ur writing ur amazing and fabulous. I wanted to request something with hotch where reader gets hurt pretty badly in the field and is gonna have to spend a lot of time in recovery (so like not being able to work in the field for a while) and just a lot of fluff and comforting? (thx ur the bestest ever ever ever and i <3 u i’ve been reading ur stuff for years)
love u <3 fem
Your leg is broken in four different places. 
Hotch is sure you're going to cry the moment you realise what that means, but he isn't expecting for it to be a minute after you've woken up. 
“We'll get you something for the pain,” a nurse promises.
“It's not that,” you say, you sob, looking between your leg and Hotch as though you're hoping he'll tell you something different. 
You live for your job. They all have their reasons, and they all have their vices. You and Hotch are the same —you can't live without this. There's no alternative. 
But your leg is undeniably broken. 
The nurse gives him a look, hoping he'll calm you down, and he would've started the moment your eyes welled with tears if he thought he could change the outcome. Still, it breaks his heart to see you so immediately upset. He has to try something. 
“It's not forever,” he says.
“How long?” 
“Not forever.” The break, the surgery, the physical therapy. He asked for the estimates. He doesn't want to be the one to tell you, but you won't accept it from anyone else. “Six months.” 
The broken leg isn't the end of it. Your wrist is fractured, your pinky and ring finger broken, a laceration the length of his hand up your thigh. You were concussed, you're still at risk of agitating all the things you've hurt. Your face crumples and you can't even cover it with two hands like you would. It is, admittedly, the worst you've ever been at. Hotch can't stand it.  
“Would you excuse us?” he asks the nurse. “I have her.” 
“Hotch,” you say as the door closes, your voice achingly unhappy, “make them check again.” 
He takes your uninjured wrist. Holds it. “They've done everything they can do. I promise you, I was here for all of it. I argued against the pins, I knew they'd keep you here longer, I– against my better judgement, I sent people away because I knew you wouldn't want them to see you like this. This is the best outcome I could salvage.” 
“This is the best?” you ask, shaking your head at him. “This is my life.” 
You didn't see yourself. The way you'd laid there after it was over. You don't get that this is a good thing, that you weren't hurt worse. All you can see is months of desk duty, and he can't even blame you, because six months away would make him ill. 
“This is the best I could do for you,” he says, rubbing your wrist with his thumb. “I'm sorry.” 
His apology catches you off guard. You make a sound near a hiccup and turn to him completely, the fat body of a tear dripping down your cheek to your chin, where it stays. He can see the question before you've asked it and he won't make you, either, leaning down to cover you up with his arms, his chin atop your head. “I'm sorry, honey. I know how much it means to you.” 
“It's…” Your good arm works around him weakly, a hesitant touch to his back. “Not your fault. I…” 
He lets you fade, rubbing at the top of your arm, enthusing you with as much warmth as he can. “Six months recovery doesn't mean six months out of the field,” he promises. “In two months you'll be walking. It won't feel as long as you're thinking.” 
“In a boot.” 
In a full cast, poor thing. He frowns, pressing his nose into your head. “You can consult from home just as soon as you're home,” he says softly, still rubbing your arm. The touch turns to a gentle stroking, his palm numb to the ticklish sensation your naked arm brings, the sleeve of your hospital gown bunching with each line he makes. 
“I know you're unhappy, but it will heal. And you have an army of people who can't wait to see you. We… things have been complicated.” 
“How long was I out?” you ask. 
“You were awake between surgeries, but it's been two days.” 
You hug him with more insistence. “Thanks for looking after me,” you whisper. 
Oh, sweetheart, he could say. He could kiss your crown. Honestly, Hotch could take your face into his hands and suddenly he is, he's holding your face and looking down at you, eyes dark and sorry to your silvery tears. 
He strokes your cheek. “It'll be alright,” he promises. 
You dissolve into tears again in his hands. He wipes them away as they come, for as long as they will. It's the least he'd do for you. 
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theoddest1 · 3 months
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Okay so this new episode that came out (Episode 4) was poorly handled.
TW /// SA
- No warning before the show starts...why? And even if there is no way for Viv to add one, for some stupid ass reason, why didn't she announce to the fandom properly "Hey, this will have very deep topics and imagery that may not be suitable for all audiences."? Why have arguments on threads and fail to do this very easy thing. At least if the episode came out, people would get a heads up, and the word would spread faster PLUS people would see that you at least TRIED
- The episode opens up with a scene of CNC porno played for laughs in an episode that tackles SA. Complete tonal whiplash. Why did it have to open up with Angel showing everyone a porno? It serves no purpose other than to get a cheap laugh (that never came) out of me or anyone else who watches and because of the topic of the episode revolved around it. I'msure that if the episode WASN'T ABOUT SA, that joke would not have been there....but it is. There was legit no good reason to start this fiasco off with such a tone deaf opening.
- Charlie is actually fucking useless and a burden in this episode, serving no other purpose other than being the gateway to further the issues that befall Angel when "trying" to help. This all screams forced. Worse of all, Charlie does nothing to actually HELP Angel out of this, even though he has a clear black eye thanks to it all and literal mirrors breaking as a result of the abuse. We never see an actual development between the two thanks to her foolishness and garbage writing, and it's resolved easily as if this is some early Disney cartoon season that's on a strict deadline. Regardless of whether she apologized or not, she essentially caused the issue and did NOTHING to actually clean her mess. The goddamn B A R T E N D E R had to be used to salvage the pieces. So far, Charlie, as a character, is utterly pathetic and has been a burden to the cast twice so far. Vaggie, who tried to prove herself (moreso Vaggie's fault for going the extra mile for no reason but an obstacle nonetheless), also had an issue that involved Charlie's utter lack of a backbone. Hey, what was it that Charlie said in the pilot that her dad taught her and one of the only thingsshe learned from him? "You don't take shit from other demons"
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- Only one scene from the abuse shown was handled well, and it was when Charlie visited, screwed everything up, and Val asked Angel to come to his dressing room. Aside from that, the whole SA imagery is jarring. While this time, the fast pace of it all is not bad, the quick shift into it all with Angel switching from enjoying to hating, to smiling, to frowning, ALONG with the quick pace of it all with the PRIOR KNOWLEDGE SHOWN and the SONG PLAYING, I am getting mixed messages here. Imagery? Shows Angel getting assaulted multiple times with either a forced smile or for some reason ENJOYING sex with Val and the role play situations showcased, is he INTO his abuse? Lyrics? He seems to find arousal in Val controlling him. The song legit reads as follows
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"Addicted to this feeling, I can't help but swallow"
This doesn't read like he is "forced" it reads like he is yearning the toxic relationship. Now if this was one of the main issues with the abusive relationship, where it was a codependency built on romanticising the abuser and Angel learning to break free from that horrible view of someone who never loved him and actively harms him, this lyric would make a lot of sense....but that's not what we are shown at all. From the jump, we are shown that Angel HATES being with Val, to the point of him straight up avoiding his texts and voice messages, they actually do an okay job (despite the shoddy voice work) on showcasing how manipulative Val is and his outright explosive temper through this scene in episode 2. We see that Angel does NOT wanna have association with Val, is tired of it all, and even got drunk to down his sorrows. Yet these lyrics present it all as though it's just a very rocky love life like those songs you hear on the radio with the singer lamenting about how awful their relationship was but still miss their toxic boo-boo. It just...doesn't read like an SA song and could mean anything regarding the type of abuse he is facing. It's kinda vague in hindsight. That's MY take on the lyrics, though.
- Husk's song is a trash fire. He sees Angel is down in the dumps and proceeds to talk shit about him pretty much relaying his sorrows, saying it's okay to feed into your vices, and downplaying the actual situation at hand. So let's get this straight.
Angel- A sexual abuse victim forced into sex slavery to appease all sorts of people's sexual desires whether he likes it or not, including pleasuring his pimp who physically abuses him often all cause he sold his soul
Husk- Gambled his life away and lost his title as overlord, serves under Alastor all cause he sold his soul.
How is this even...the same at all? Even if Husk is lacking some context, he SEES that Angel normalized drinking roofied drinks and works for Val SOMEONE HUSK SHOULD KNOW ABOUT AND WHAT HE DOES but nah, screw Angel. Even if he honest to God (irony) wanted to actually help, why tf would Husk think this was sound advice? Why does Husk just SUDDENLY care? No build up, no memorable dynamic, no nothing. Realistically, CHARLIE should be the one singing with Angel or maybe Vaggie because she heard the story from Charlie. Not Husk. He is self aware enough where he knows this "advice" wouldn't work but nah. Nothing about the song makes sense. Telling someone going through it that "you're a loser" pretty much a no one, an insignificant individual, when VAL has made it clear that Angel would be nothing without him...yeah no the only reason why this whole song "worked" was cause the writers wanted it to, so Angel is happy with being a loser for being a victim of SA and selling his soul to someone who abuses him in various ways consistently.
This episode is terrible
Jarring for any newcomers
Who have no idea who these characters are
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thelov3lybookworm · 9 months
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I Didn't Ask For This (part one)
Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought.
All her dreams would be shattered.
But maybe she can salvage them?
•○●⛦●○•
A/n: yeah soo... I think I have some kind of obsession with this trope. And I have never ever seen any azriel x reader forced marriage fics, so I decided to write one myself. But I could be wrong and there are fics out there that I haven't seen, in which case, please let me know about them. (Also, because we do not know who azzie's father was and if he was a camp Lord, for the sake of this fic, lets pretend that he was, indeed, a camp lord.)
Tw: Forced marriage, none more that I can think of, so please let me know if I need to add anything.
•○🌑○•
Y/n poured the imaginary tea in the cups set on the low table in front of her, talking to Mister Fluffkins about the weather. He was her daughter's husband, or she pretended that he was. Her daughter, Alisa, was her favourite doll, who was going to be married today.
"I hope there was no troubles while on the way here?" She asked as she set down the teacup and turned towards her other toys.
Before Mister Fluffkins could answer though, Y/n's mother walked in, crouching in front of Y/n, smiling.
"What are you doing?"
"I was just asking Mister Fluffkins about his travels today. Do you want some tea?"
"No dear. I just wanted to tell you that a friend of father is coming here today with his son. I want you to try and become his friend, as he has none. Okay?"
"Okay mother." The little girl turned away and settled down opposite her to be son in law, sipping her imaginary tea. Excited that she'll be making a new friend today. Maybe he can play with her. He could be Alisa's father, and they would be one big and happy family.
As little Y/n was busy musing about her new friend, she lost track of time, and soon they had arrived. The door opened once again and her mother stepped inside, Y/n stood. A small boy, probably her age or older, stepped in behind her, his hands clasped together nervously. His eyes flitted around the room, his hair dishevelled and messy. He looked too thin to be healthy.
Y/n mother nudged him forward, and he hesitantly took a step forward. Then another and another.
"I'm Y/n. What is your name?" She asked when he was standing in front of her.
"Az– Azriel."
"Let's be friends." She said, before practically shoving him in the chair next to Mister Fluffkins and pouring him some tea. "It's tea. Drink, you'll like it."
He blinked. "There's nothing there."
"Obviously. We're playing, I can't use real tea."
Her mother had laughed, walking away. It took some time for Azriel to get accustomed to playing with her, but when he did, he enjoyed it, cherishing this rare moment of happiness. And though he was quite odd, saying he had never played anything in his life, Y/n didn't mind.
But then both of their father's stepped in, as if in a hurry. Azriel's father yelled at him to be quick and clasp her hand, and Y/n decided she didn't like this man. He was too loud.
Y/n's father was looking sadly at her when the bad man told him to make haste. They made Y/n and Azriel hold hands, guiding them through it.
"Listen girl, I want you to say I agree to everything he says, understand?" Y/n nodded, afraid of his father. "Now," he began saying to Azriel, "repeat after me. I will marry you, when I see you after we come of age. Say it." Azriel looked scared, but repeated nonetheless. And she mumbled a I agree after him before a pain shot down her left ring finger and she wrenched it from Azriel's grasp, tears pooling in her eyes. At that exact moment, the door slammed open and her mother stumbled in, gasping and clutching at her head.
"No..." She stared at her husband angrily with tears in her eyes.
Y/n didn't understand, but it wasn't as if she could question the adults. Because, even though her father didn't hate her, he didn't like her very much either, hitting her whenever she got too loud. But he wasn't bad, atleast Y/n didn't think so.
Maybe when her older siblings came home from school, she would ask them about it.
•○🌑○•
As she stared at the rain droplets pelting the window of her room, Y/n couldn't stop thinking about that day. It had been almost five centuries since then.
Asking her siblings about it had yielded no information, after all, they were kids too.
But now she knew.
Azriel's father had fame and control over the camp they had once lived in. Her father wanted to be in the good graces of the Lord and also the recently vacated position of the second most powerful person, the camp Lord's second in command. Azriel's father was giving Y/n's father what he wanted in exchange for her marriage to his bastard son.
Who had run away.
But she couldn't fault him for that, knowing what his father was like. She knew Azriel fairly well, considering she met him a few more times after the day they had been promised to each other. The last time they met, he had finally told Y/n that his father kept him in a dungeon. Then he left. They could have been called friends once, but now, Y/n didn't even know if he was alive or rotting somewhere. But, even after all these centuries, Y/n still cares for that tiny, skinny, timid boy with disheveled hair, who would get extremely happy if provided with one small act of kindness.
But she also couldn't stop the tiny kernel of resentment that bloomed in her, because, after he had run away, his father had decided that he no longer wanted to share the power when he wasn't getting anything out of it, kicking their family out of the camp. Her father had gone nearly crazy.
Her sister, Velda, had been in a similar situation as Y/n, having been forced to marry one of the more prized warriors. But she didn't have to make a promise for it, as the warrior wanted to marry her. Y/n had been forced to promise herself to Azriel because his father somehow knew that he couldn't marry Azriel forcefully.
She would have been married too, if not for the mark on the second last finger of her left hand, encircling it like a ring. Every day she woke up with a pot of dead and hope in her stomach. Dread, for if Azriel came to take her, she would be forced to marry him, but if he didn't, she'd have to ensure her father's taunts, as if it was somehow her fault Azriel escaped. Those taunts, which had increased since her mother's death, haunted her at night.
Hope, for if he came, maybe she'll be able to have the life she always dreamed of, and that Azriel would still be the boy she had befriended. And if he didn't, she won't have to leave.
Her father had waited all these years in hopes that Azriel would come to get his bride. But he was tired of waiting, it seemed. And so, today, she and her father they would be visiting Hewn City, in his hopes that the High Lord could find her husband.
•○🌑○•
The Hewn City was hauntingly beautiful. That's all Y/n could describe it as.
They were waiting on the side, her father conversing with someone named Keir while she stared at everything she could get her sights on in awe.
The doors to the court room suddenly opened, everyone falling silent as the High Lord and the Lady, with the little heir in her arms, walked in, with their Inner Circle, as they were called. Y/n kept her eyes downcast, hiding behind her father. Her neck prickles, as if someone was staring at her, but it wasn't something she was unfamiliar with.
Soon, everyone dropped to their knees, rising when the High Lord commanded. After a few people conversed with him, her father stepped forward, her following, still staring at the ground. He bowed, and she curtsied.
But then, when a shiver wound down her spine, she lifted her eyes.
She had to take a step back, her jaw dropping.
Because, staring at her were wide, hazel eyes.
She stared and stared, hoping she was dreaming and hoping that she wasn't. Because those eyes, she would never forget.
Azriel.
Her father bowed, turning away, and she shook her head at Azriel, slightly. He dipped his chin and looked away.
But when Y/n tried to step away, a sharp pain shot through her chest and left hand, a scream tearing from her throat. She fell to her knees, gasping and clutching her hand to her chest. One glance at the dais told her that Azriel had fallen to his knees as well, and everyone was silent, looking between the two of them.
She looked at her father, the confusion in his eyes clearing and a wicked smile blooming on his face.
"Finally."
•○🌑○•
Part 2
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p1utofairy · 6 days
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PICK A CARD: “sixteen carriages drivin' away – while i watch them ride with my fears away…”
★ what will this spring be like for you?
NOTE: i love doing these y'all :,) it always makes me realize how interconnected we all are at the end of the day. just beautiful stuff. take what resonates and leave what doesn't. enjoy!
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PILE 1.
hey pile one! i see the beginning of spring started out pretty great for you. there's some communication coming from someone that's been on your mind for awhile now. you could've suddenly ghosted this person or they could’ve ghosted you, but i see you finally gaining some clarity about the situation and finding common ground with this person. you might find this person to be *a bit* much…in terms of how they approach you and just pop back into your life as if nothing happened and there wasn't a pause in this connection – but you can't deny the chemistry between you two. it's like should i stay or should i go?
you're very indecisive and frazzled about this situation, but you need to trust your gut and see the situation for what it is and not what you want it to be. if you know it’s not worth it, let it go. if you feel in your heart that this relationship is salvageable then give it a go…ultimately it's up to you because this person is all in. hopelessly devoted to you by olivia newton-john just came to mind (that's you) and then next to you by bryson tiller also started playing in mind (that's the person you're thinking of) *sigh* you two are really caught between a rock and a hard place.
i think the biggest problem is that they love to talk a good game, but can they back it up with their actions? you need stability, pile 1! don't just accept any and everything for the sake of company and romance – you can always find someone that will follow through and provide you with the love and care that you desire/deserve. i see this dilemma being a big theme throughout the springtime, it might be cliché to say but weigh the pros and the cons that comes with this person – and if the cons outweigh the pros then you know what to do! ultimately, you will prevail.
i can honestly see you getting yourself back out there and receiving some love offers, and that person not liking it. they're really going to try to compete and "make it up to you" i'm hearing lol there's a bit of a love triangle vibe going on here. a little sneaky part of you might enjoy this cat and mouse game and the fight for your attention hehe i'm hearing tell your girlfriend by lay bankz BYEEEE you're definitely giving main character energy, as you should. just make sure you're making the right choices!
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PILE 2.
hiii pile 2, what's going on my loves? it feels like you'll be starting off walking on eggshells a little bit. i think you're tired of being let down and disappointed, especially when it comes to love. your energy feels tense like you already can sense it coming, but what i want you to do is breath and relax…put the guns down babe. i feel like some of y'alls trauma/past wounds are preventing you from seeing what exactly is on the horizon – which is everything you've ever wanted. it's like the concept of love and being in a solid relationship has been a big grey area for you for a long time, and you're exhausted from the constant fear of someone breaking your trust or getting your hopes up just to let them down.
y'all are very intuitive pile 2 and i know y'all can see more than what meets the eye – so right off the rip if someone is approaching you, you can already peep what kind of agenda/motivation that they have. now this is an amazing ability to have, but you also have to make sure you're at least giving the person a chance before immediately writing them off. when you know, you know. energy never lies and when you peep a vibe, 99.9% of the time your suspicions will be confirmed in some way, shape or form. TRUST YOUR GUT. however, you should open your heart to the limitless possibilities and understand that what will be, will be, my loves. if something doesn't sit right with you, then don't feel afraid to walk away and let it go. you're stronger than you think, and that's exactly why you shouldn't just allow anyone into your space. it seems rough and lonely now, but by may i definitely see some rewarding changes coming in. you might have some options but i don't see them cutting it for you lol i can see you being like mmm eliminated, eliminated and ELIMINATED! i know that's right! it's like you’re weeding out your garden and making room for even more beautiful flowers to grow.
some of the seeds you have planted will manifest this spring, and i see a particular romantic relationship blossoming. it's like there was this pause in your life and then here comes this dreamy ass person just waltzing right into your life, after all those tests, trials and tribulations. you're gonna be so happy and thankful that you didn't settle for less, pile 2. i'm genuinely so excited for y'all <3 awww this person is literally a blessing that you have been waiting on for a longgg time. you'll realize that everything happens for a reason and there was no reason to worry in the first place, because this was always destined to be. 10:10 on the clock <3 love y'all.
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PILE 3.
pile 333 it looks like you might be starting off with a lot on your plate, my loves. you might be juggling school, work, hobbies, hanging out with friends, working out – honestly you're just tryna squeeze in some personal time within this tight schedule. it's been hard on you because you feel like you have your hands tied with so many things…people want you to be everywhere at once, and you simply can't do that.
you ultimately have to do what makes you happy, no matter what and i see you realizing that as you progress throughout the spring. one of your parents or family members might be extremely tough on you, this person might live vicariously through you and it stresses you tf out. you feel like you have to carry this burden that they put on you just because they're family, but guess what? you don’t. pour back into yourself, pile 3. you have so many dreams, plans and goals that you don’t speak about to other people but you need to share your gifts with the world. you will be blessed as you embark on this new journey! will it be easy? maybe not but will it be necessary? ABSOFUCKINGLUTLY. go for it, please. your guides want you to know that you'll be supported as you navigate and try to figure out ways to get these ideas out there and put into motion. you're truly beyond creative and talented, wow.
you're a visionary! so many nights you've cried wondering how and when you will be released from these restraints and be free. your spirit guides want you to know that you have the key, my loves. use it. there's sunshine waiting for you at the end of the tunnel <3 and anyone who has ever mistreated you, or put you down will truly regret it and become so bitter and bewildered that you got away from their negative energy and hatefulness. you will meet people along the way that will truly love you and support you unconditionally. you will start to live your life this spring, pile 3. spread your wings.
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PILE 4.
hey pile 4! i think this spring you're going to come to a realization about something in regards to a romantic (or platonic for some) connection. if this is platonic, then you and this person must be REALLYYYY close, like best friends. this person is not being 100% honest with you, and you've been suspecting in the back of your mind that they are hiding something from you. i see them coming clean about whatever it is or someone might expose them and you'll be like I KNEW IT…it's sad though because the betrayal feels pretty deep.
this person might try to make it up to you, and try to smooth things over – but be very careful with that because i feel like they're no stranger to gaslighting and manipulating people. it's giving a 3rd party situation either they were cheating (if this is romantic) or they were talking shit on you with other people (if this is platonic) either way what they did is fucked up and they know that but they think you're naive enough to forgive them and move on.
see the situation for what it is and move accordingly, pile 4. you need to reevaluate the ones closest to you, and see if these are really the type of people you want around you. you're going to be elevating this spring, and not everyone is going to like that. i see you doing your own thing and just being the most authentic version of yourself with no fucks to give! let this be your green light to not let anyone hold you back with their lies and deception, you are going to rise above this situation and feel so refreshed once you see this person for who they truly are. i can see you taking on a new hobby, engaging in a passion project and/or just deep-diving and learning more about yourself/what you like. it's very much needed, pile 4. let it happen by tame impala is the vibe for you this spring hell yeah YOU GOT THIS.
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lnfours · 16 days
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"there you go. that's more like it." has been living rent free in my head at all times lately. he's so gorgeous and especially when he smiles/laughs 🥺 what about lando finding you beating yourself up after some kind of failure (plus points if it's an academic one) and cheers you up + the "there you go. that's more like it." when he successfully does so?
this clip has also been living in my head rent free, like i need him in so many different ways it's actually insane.
cleaning out my inbox
you knew you hadn't done well on the test when you had sat down to take it. no matter how much you had studied, nothing was sticking. it was like the topics on the page were going in one ear and out the other.
you tried not to let grades define you, tried your hardest to tell yourself that it was just one test, you'd be fine. everything was okay, it wasn't the end of the world.
he had noticed you were upset early on into the morning when he left to go train. you had sat on the couch under a blanket all day, switching between scrolling on your phone and watching your favorite movies, something you did when you were trying to cheer yourself up.
he had stopped at the flower shop on his way home, picking up the best bouquet they had and stopping at the corner store to grab your favorite snacks. he was determined to brighten your day, even if he didn't know the reason why you were so down, he didn't like seeing you upset. not in the slightest.
you heard the front door close, followed by his voice, "'m home!"
"in the kitchen!" you called back, standing at the pan on the stove. he walked into the room, hands behind his back to try to conceal his gifts. he walked up behind you, placing a kiss on your cheek, "whatcha making?"
"well, it was supposed to be stir fry," you said, poking around the ingredients in the pan, "but i don't think it's turned out."
he grabbed the spoon from your hands, lifting it to his mouth and blowing on it before eating it. you watched him, searching his facial features for an answer. when he scrunched his nose, you sighed heavily.
"damn it!" you were frustrated. why couldn't things go right? just for once?
he placed the spoon down, turning the burner off under the pan, "hey, hey," he said, watching you lean on the counter with your head in your hands, "it's okay, it's fine, it's salvageable."
he placed a hand on your back as you tried your hardest to fight off the tears welling up in your eyes. he placed a hand on your back comfortingly, "hey, pretty girl," he said, rubbing your back softly, "can you look at me?"
you sat up, turning around to face him as your back pressed into the counter. you bit down on your lower lip as he wiped the tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb, "what's wrong, honey?"
"i just can't do anything right," you said shakily, "i failed my test the other day, i can't make stir fry. i feel so dumb, like what else can't i do?"
"that doesn't mean you aren't capable of doing something," he said, "we all fail, but we get back up, don't we? it's part of learning, part of growing."
he was right and you knew it, but you still had to resist the urge to feel like you were a complete and utter failure.
"you're the smartest person i've ever met," he said, "no matter what you always continue to amaze me. don't ever doubt, not even for a second, that you're something you're not."
you nodded at him, leaning into his touch on your cheek, "'m sorry,"
"don't apologize," he said, "we all need to hear it again once in a while."
you smiled, eyes traveling down to where his arm was still hidden behind his back, "what've you got there?"
he smirked, "you only get to see if you say you're smart."
you huffed with a smile, laughing softly, "i'm smart."
"there you go, that's more like it," he said, holding the bouquet and bag of snacks between the two of you, "saw these and thought they'd make your day better."
you smiled up at your boyfriend, your heart clenching in your chest. you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. he kissed you back sweetly, the kiss turning hungry when he placed the flowers and bag on the counter, hands finding your hips instead. he lifted you up on the counter, standing between your legs, lips brushing against yours as he spoke, "i love you."
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lostinforestbound · 4 days
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I can't stop myself because this tiefling has taken over my damn life. Here we go again!
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Romantic Rolan Headcanons
Gods, he is so unbelievably nervous when it comes to the romance aspect of dating, but he hides it behind of facade of confidence. He's master of the tower now, he has everything that his partner could possibly want; why doesn't it ever feel like enough?
In the beginning, he overcompensates in fear of messing up everything about the relationship. Lavish gifts, expensive dates, the whole nine yards with his newfound wealth he gained from the tower. It's a bit uncanny.
In all honestly, he figures his partner wants "The Master of Ramazith's Tower", not him. Rolan is a flawed creature who has piles of constant mistakes weighing on him; an utter, helpless fool. Why would anyone want that? No one has ever wanted him before, why now?
When Rolan realizes his partner seems confused and maybe put off by the facade, he thinks the worst things possible. Do they not desire him? Did he already mess things up so early into the relationship? Can he salvage this? Did they fall out of love?
In the beginning, he's not great at communication. It's horrid, even. He doesn't know how to verbalize how he's feeling. His partner would have to teach him as they sit down and talk about this facade he's put up. It will take a while, but they eventually will get his walls down.
I think his love language is complex, but in simpler terms, Quality Time is where I think he leans towards the most. Sitting with them as they read books, reading to them as they settle in bed, going on night walks if nightmares are haunting him, or something as simple as cuddling after a long day. One his absolute favorites is bathing together; the domestic intimacy of it all makes him feel loved and relaxed, especially if his lover washes his hair for him.
He's not the biggest fan of public display of affection, he gets bashful so easily. He'll outright refuse it if his partner tries. He prefers all of it to stay in the private setting. That doesn't stop his tail from winding itself around his lovers leg, though!
While it will take him some time, what ends up being one of his favorite things is eye contact. At first, he couldn't meet them in the eyes at all during vulnerable moments. It was too much. But the first time he finally holds their look properly, he's memorized. There is so much love in their stare, it makes his heart want to burst out of his chest with joy, and he's never been that flustered again.
He'll shout to the ends of Faerun that he's not cuddly but he is a liar. Every night, without fail, he'll at least a hand somewhere on his partner. By the time morning comes, their limbs are tangled with his and he has his face buried in their neck or chest.
Despite Cal being the main chef in the tower, Rolan does know how to cook! Any meal his partner wants, he will make, no question. He would love cooking even more if his partner joined and helped him out. He even has a mental list of all his partners comfort foods, so he can make them whenever they're sick or having a rough day. They wouldn't even have to ask for it, it's sitting in the kitchen already done.
He doesn't like being too vulnerable, so he's mortified when his partner has to shake him out of a nightmare for the first time. He's shaking, sweating, and apologizing. He's scared they'll see him as some weak, fragile thing. But all they do is stay up with him until his racing heart calms down and talk to him. It can be discussed in the morning.
He plans the most wonderful dates! Everything is scheduled in a timely matter every time, and he presents a gift at the beginning of the date every time. Sometimes small, sometimes extravagant if it's a special night. He gets gifts based purely on what he knows about his partner; favorite books, food, drinks, flowers, an outfit they were eyeing a few days ago, he'll get it no matter the cost.
I don't see Rolan as a man who uses a lot of pet names, but I can see him using terms along the lines of "my love" or "dearest". If his partner uses pet names with him though, he wouldn't mind it, just as long as it was in a private setting.
He has the absolute sweetest, longing stare. It can be quite obvious how much he's pining after his partner if you know what to look for. His tail gives so much away, with the way it flicks happily if they come over to kiss him. These stares hold on much longer after he gets himself comfortable with eye contact.
(NSFW Headcanons will be coming next! If you all have your own romantic headcanons for Rolan, please share! I would love to hear them!)
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lazypanartist · 11 months
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Hobie Brown x Artistic/DIY Reader
Y'all are already EATING TF out of part one. Anyways. Here more of him ❤️💙
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Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4
Warnings: maybe spoilers for ATSV, IDK. Reader's in the punk scene and from Hobie's universe. Whole lotta projection. Canon-typical injuries
Features personal Hobie HCs I guess. It's just self indulgent (and for the rest of y'all too I guess)
Please RB, likes alone don't do anything for the algorithm!
-----
You don't even need to turn around to know he's there. The smallest footsteps led from your window, a tiny breeze brushing the side of your face.
"Spidey."
You finally glance up when he huffs, sketchbook forgotten as you catch sight of a new gash along his chest.
He waves off your attempt to look at the area.
"'S fine, luv. Just a scratch."
"Just a - for the love of - ugh!"
You drag him onto the couch as you brush past, a quiet laugh meeting your ears as you rummage through the medicine cabinet around the corner.
"It's really not that 'orrible!"
Even with his protesting, he shrugs his jacket off with a wince, pulling the top of his suit up so you can access the newest wound on his torso.
He can vaguely hear you scolding him, telling him that the city needs him to be less wreck less, but he has one little, uninterrupted train of thought:
This is NOT how he wanted this to go.
The original plan was simple: show if like he'd done a time or twenty, tell you that he trusts you enough for something, then wham! Mask off!
But no. Here he was, shirtless on your couch, shaking in an attempt to stay still for your caring hands to work on him.
Still..
It had to be salvageable.
"-and without you, Osborne would've gotten his filthy grip into our movement, but NO, you were there to stop him -"
"How long are you planning to repeat yourself?"
You sighed, and he winced internally.
Okay. So not like that.
"I'm just worried about you, y'know?"
He nodded gently. "I can tell. Pretty obvious, actually."
You rolled your eyes, going back to work. "Yeah, well. You're our city's hero. Cheesy, yeah, but it's true."
He sucked in a quiet breath. "Yeah? If I'm the city's hero, then you're mine."
You look up at him, speechless. And he grins, hand coming to the bottom of his mask.
Plan - back on track.
"Cheesy, yeah. But it's true."
You're still staring, more in awe now, as he removes his spiked mask. He watches your eyes flicker from his coils to his multiple piercings, lingering momentarily on his lip before meeting his eyes. He's still grinning cheekily as he leans forward, stifling a groan as his newly tended wound shifts.
"Wow.."
He barely hears the word, instead feeling it roll across his chin from where you're kneeling in front of him on the couch, and his smile widens.
"That's what I thought when I saw you."
And he knows you were already hooked - everyone is, he's heard - but now you're just staring, taking him in, and he feels.. loved.
It's odd, after everything he's been through. But he can't help but revel in it, hand coming forward to cradle your cheek.
"Are we.. wow."
He leans forward further, straining against his gash, but sighs when you push him back upright before sitting next to him on the couch.
"Don't strain that."
It's crosser than he expected, but he can't help but chuckle. "Whatever you say."
"Doctors orders."
You lean forward, barely, and he follows suit. The new angle is more comfortable anyways.
"I don't like taking orders."
You know.
"What about.. significant other's suggestion?"
He leans forward further, hand coming back up to hold you.
"I could do that."
-----
Part 3
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coconut-dreamz · 2 months
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you're losing me
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'how long can we be a sad song' || tom blyth x reader
part two
a/n: i felt angsty and i love this song so i wanted to write something based off of it
you say, "i don't understand, " and i say, "i know you don't" we thought a cure would come through in time, now i fear it won't
the fights felt as if they were never ending lately. it hadn't always been this way, but that felt like a lifetime ago. the problems had started when tom began filming for tbosas but they had ceased when filming for it wrapped. but your relationship wasn't the same as it was before. now it was time for promotions and the fights had started up once again.
"i don't understand! why do we keep having to have this fight over and over again!" tom shouted. you scoff in disbelief at his outburst. he didn't know why you felt so insecure and jealous? it wasn't like you had told him at least a dozen times before.
"you know what, just go on your tour alone. i don't want to ruin it with our fighting." you resign, taking your already packed suitcase back into the apartment, away from the door. "you should go, the cab's waiting." you tell him quietly, unable to look up from the ground.
he just sighs, "alright, i'll see you in a few weeks." staring at you, waiting for you to look up at him. " have a safe flight," you look up at him, but refuse to meet his eyes. he just thanks you and heads out the door.
remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light now, I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time do I throw out everything we built or keep it?
you sat in the dark room of your shared apartment with tom. you had picked it because of the view of the city lights, but now it just felt cold and desolate, like nobody lived here. in all honesty, it hadn't been lived in for awhile. with tom gone for movie promotions, you hadn't been able to be here alone, opting to stay with a friend instead.
you don't know where to go from here. should you salvage what remained of your relationship with tom? or should you scrap everything and start new?
the latter choice had been seeming more and more appealing as of late. you hadn't heard from tom in days. at first you chalked it up to him being busy and the time difference, but you saw he posted a new croissant review and realized he was ignoring you. where had it all gone wrong?
i'm getting tired even for a phoenix always risin' from the ashes mendin' all her gashes you might just have dealt the final blow
you had made the mistake of watching one of tom's latest interviews with his costar rachel. you watched it because you'd missed him, but now that you'd watched it, you wished you just stayed missing him. you didn't miss the way they looked at each other. it'd been so long since you'd looked at each other like that. your eyes were always filled with rage or tears whenever you saw him lately.
you were just so tired of it all. you contemplated texting him and breaking things off. it'd be a whole lot easier that way. maybe the weight on your chest would be lifted. but a part of you didn't want to let go of him. he'd been your everything once.
stop, you're losin' me i can't find a pulse my heart won't start anymore for you 'cause you're losin' me
"how are you baby?" tom asks, his voice cutting through the silence, breaking you out of your reverie. he managed to find some time to call you while on his press tour. "huh? oh, i'm fine. how are you? how's press tour going?" you ask absentmindedly, hearing you ask about tour sparked a light in tom's eyes. he started rambling about the antics he and his cast mates had been up to.
you smiled fondly hearing him talk, until he mentioned rachel. she'd been a sore spot in your relationship lately. the mere mention of her name left a sour taste in your mouth. the grin on your face immediately swept off.
"it's getting late, i think i'm gonna go to bed. i hope the rest of your tour goes well," you fake a smile, trying to hurry to end the facetime call. "oh, i guess it is late over there. i love you, sleep well.” he bids you a goodnight. "love you," you reply and end the call. you bury yourself in your blankets, tired of the emotional turmoil that was caused by your relationship lately.
every mornin', i glared at you with storms in my eyes how can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'? i sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick my face was gray, but you wouldn't admit that we were sick
you'd lost the glow your skin once had. it'd became increasingly noticeable to those around you. your makeup artist had to try harder to make it less noticeable on red carpets and photo shoots. but it was all in vain, everyone noticed how you'd looked sickly lately, everyone but tom.
or, if he did, he didn't mention anything about it. "you look great." he complimented as you two climbed into the car that was to take you to the premiere of his film. it had taken your makeup artist a lot longer than usual to do your makeup, having to cover up the blemishes and gray tone of your skin from the lack of care you'd given yourself lately. you’d been opting to lay around in bed, moping.
"thanks," you mutter as the car begins to move. you picked at your nails, something you'd picked up lately to help deal with your nerves. you no longer could have any type of nails, you'd bit them down to nubs lately. but tom didn't seem to have noticed. he didn't seem to notice anything about you lately.
and the air is thick with loss and indecision i know my pain is such an imposition now, you're runnin' down the hallway and you know what they all say you don't know what you got until it's gone
"stop! where are you going?" shit. you stop dead in your tracks, tom was home early for once. you'd thought he wouldn't back for another day or two. "did you hear me?" he makes his way in front of you. you try avoiding his gaze, but it was difficult when his icy blue eyes stared into your soul.
you tried to formulate the words to tell him it was over. "i'm leaving." you finally managed to say. his concerned eyes turn frantic at your words. "what?" he whispers out, grabbing your hand. "you're leaving? why?" you take a breath, you tried leaving when he was gone because you couldn't face him. "things haven't been the same lately. i think we need a break. i'm going to stay with a friend. i'll come back for the rest of my things later. i think it's best if we don't talk for awhile." you manage out, finally meeting his eyes.
what a mistake. his previously concerned eyes were now filled with sadness. you tried moving past him to your car. he grabs your hand one more time, "can you at least tell me what's wrong?" you sigh hearing this, "i think you know why, tom." is all you answer, dragging your suitcase behind you.
how long could we be a sad song 'til we were too far gone to bring back to life? i gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy and all i did was bleed as i tried to be the bravest soldier fighting in only your army frontlines , don't you ignore me
it'd been a few weeks since you'd moved out of your shared apartment with tom. you felt relieved when you had finally walked out of the apartment. it had been feeling less like a home and more like a prison lately. you felt stuck in time in there. everyone around you was moving forward their lives, your friends, family and especially tom, but there you were. stuck waiting around for tom to give you the time of day.
you'd spend too long waiting around for your relationship to go back to how it once was. you'd given that relationship your all but got the bare minimum back in return. you should've called time of death on it months ago, but a big part of you wasn't ready to let go. you had spent your best years with him after all.
and i wouldn't marry me either a pathological people pleaser who only wanted you to see her
you and tom used to talk about the future all the time. laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling and giggling about your thoughts on what the future had in store. you told him about your dream wedding and he told you about how he wanted a cozy home with a big yard for your future children.
but that seemed so far in the past. you suppose he changed his mind. who'd want to marry a person who'd give every piece of themselves for someone who won't even bat an eye at them? you'd given him your all in the last year of your relationship, but had gotten nothing in return. all in an attempt to bring back what you both once had.
and i'm fadin', thinkin' "do something, babe, say something" "lose something, babe, risk something" "choose something, babe, i got nothing to believe unless you're choosin' me"
you laid in the makeshift bed of your friend’s studio apartment waiting for tom to reach out. you were aware of what you had told him, but you wanted to see if he truly did care about your relationship.
it hurt to see him happy on set of billy the kid. you followed his castmates and it hurt to see the snippets of him on their stories. he looked so happy and carefree. the exact opposite of how you were feeling and probably looked.
you hoped he was just respecting your wishes of having no contact for a few weeks, but the small voice in the back of your mind was screaming that he didn't care. that he was happier without you, that he was better off now that you were gone.
you're losin' me stop, you're losin' me stop, you're losin' me i can't find a pulse my heart won't start anymore
a constant buzzing woke you up from your deep sleep. you blindly search for your phone. when you find it, the clock shows that it's exactly 12 in the morning. you hit answer without looking at the contact. "hello?" you answer, your voice raspy from lack of use.
"love? it's me, tom. it's been exactly 6 weeks like you said. can we finally talk?"
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kckt88 · 7 days
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Closer II
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Summary:
Both Aemond and Lucaela deal with the concequences of their mating as certain revelations come to light.
Warning(s): Language, Angst, Uncle/Niece Incest, Kissing, Smut – Fingering, Oral Sex, P in V, Knotting, Marriage, Pregnancy, Child Birth, Character Death.
AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C LUCAELA VELARYON
INSPIRED BY - 'NINE INCH NAILS - CLOSER'
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
Word Count: 6623
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.
"You fool!" Otto roared, his voice echoing off the walls of his chambers. "You can't keep your damn knot in your breeches, can you? Irreversibly tying yourself to Rhaenyra's daughter, of all people!"
Aemond's jaw tensed, his own frustration mounting as he bore the brunt of his grandfather's wrath. "I never intended for this to happen, grandfather," he protested, his voice tinged with desperation. "But Lucaela-she's my mate. I couldn't deny our bond any longer."
"Your mate be damned!" Otto spat, his fists clenching at his sides. "Do you realize what you've done? You've single-handedly destroyed any chance we had of securing the throne for your brother. All because you couldn't control your urges, I thought I had to worry about your brother, not you”.
"Grandsire-“ muttered Aemond.
Otto's mind raced as he tried to salvage the remnants of his meticulously laid plans, the very foundations of which now seemed to crumble beneath his feet. With Rhaenyra and Daemon demanding that Aemond marry Lucaela, Otto saw a sliver of opportunity amidst the chaos.
"If we can't control the situation," he mused aloud, his voice heavy with frustration, "Perhaps we can manipulate it to our advantage."
Rhaenyra's attachment to her daughter was well-known, a weakness that could be exploited if handled with care. If Lucaela became a pawn in their political game, they might be able to force Rhaenyra to come to terms and bend to their will.
"Force her hand," Otto murmured to himself, his mind churning with possibilities. "Use Lucaela as leverage to ensure Rhaenyra's compliance."
The Alpha within Aemond roared in protest as he listened to his grandfather's plans for Lucaela. Deep within him, a primal instinct surged, rejecting Otto's manipulative schemes with a ferocity that matched the flames of a dragon.
"No," Aemond growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I will not allow Lucaela to be used as a pawn in your games”.
Otto's gaze hardened as he locked eyes with Aemond, his own resolve unyielding in the face of his grandson's defiance. "You are willing to risk everything," he countered, his voice laced with frustration, "Your own life, the lives of your brothers and sister, the life of your mother, all for the sake of this bond?"
Aemond squared his shoulders and shook his head, his grandsire’s words playing on a loop in his mind.
But the Alpha inside him was furious, demanding that he protect his mate.
"If Rhaenyra is crowned queen, we will all be in danger. She will see us as threats to her rule, and she will stop at nothing to eliminate us."
“Grandsire-there has to be another way“ muttered Aemond.
Otto shook his head, his expression grim. "What of the realm?" he challenged. "Do you not care about the stability of the Seven Kingdoms? Aegon is the King’s firstborn son, the crown is his by right”.
"But at what cost?" Aemond shot back, his tone fierce. "Do we sacrifice everything we hold dear in the name of political expediency? I refuse to let Lucaela suffer for our ambitions, to see her used as a pawn in a game of thrones."
“I implore you to see reason Aemond-a living contender invites challenge. We must work together to secure your brother’s succession,” said Otto.
“Not at the cost of Lucy-“
"You're being used, Aemond," declared Otto, his tone cold and unforgiving. "Can't you see? Lucaela deliberately placed herself in front of you, knowing full well you wouldn't be able to resist her scent."
Aemond's jaw clenched at the accusation, his Alpha instincts bristling with indignation. "You speak as if Lucaela is some kind of manipulative pawn," he countered, his voice sharp with defiance. "But she is my mate. Our bond is stronger than any scheme Rhaenyra could concoct."
Otto shook his head, his expression incredulous. "You only lost one eye how could you be so blind" he scoffed. "Do you honestly believe Lucaela's actions are purely out of love? She is her mother’s daughter, and she’s been raised by Daemon. You think it's a coincidence that she presented herself to you on the day of the Driftmark petition?"
Aemond's chest tightened at the implication, his mind reeling with the possibility that he had been deceived. But even as doubt crept into his thoughts, he refused to entertain the notion that Lucaela's feelings for him were anything less than genuine.
"You don't understand” he asserted, his tone firm and resolute. "Through our bond, I can feel her emotions, her feelings for me. They are genuine, I would know if they were false."
“A fools notion” scoffed Otto.
His Alpha instincts surged within him, reinforcing his conviction with a primal certainty that Otto could not hope to comprehend. "You speak of manipulation and deceit, but you underestimate the power of our connection," Aemond continued, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him. "I can feel her love for me. No scheme or plot could fabricate such emotion."
Otto's scepticism faltered slightly, a flicker of doubt crossing his features as he regarded his grandson. But he quickly regained his composure, his resolve unyielding in the face of Aemond's protestations.
"Feelings can be fickle, Aemond," he cautioned, his voice tinged with warning. "Do not let your emotions cloud your judgment”.
But Aemond remained steadfast, his faith in Lucaela unwavering despite the doubts cast upon their relationship. "I trust in our bond, grandsire," he declared, his voice ringing with determination. "No matter the challenges we face, I will stand by Lucaela's side”.
Otto's voice carried a solemn warning as he fixed Aemond with a steely gaze. "When the time comes, Aemond," he said, his tone grave, "You had better pray to the Seven that your bond with Lucaela will be enough to save not only your life but the lives of your siblings as well."
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As he rounded a corner, Aemond's heart skipped a beat at the sight that greeted him. There she was, Lucaela, radiant and alluring as ever, standing in the company of her stepfather, Daemon. His presence sent a surge of possessiveness coursing through Aemond, the Alpha within him bristling at the sight of another Alpha in such close proximity to his mate.
For a moment, Aemond stood rooted to the spot, torn between the conflicting urges warring within him. On one hand, the desire to assert his claim over Lucaela burned fiercely within him, driving him to emphasise his dominance over any who would dare to encroach upon their bond.
But on the other hand, a voice of reason whispered in the back of his mind, reminding him of the consequences of giving in to his primal instincts.
With a deep breath, Aemond forced himself to calm, the turmoil within him subsiding slightly as he approached Lucaela and Daemon. "Lucaela," he greeted her, his voice husky with desire yet tempered with restraint. "I was hoping to find you."
Lucaela turned to him, her eyes lighting up with warmth and affection. "Aemond," she replied, a smile gracing her lips.
" I was wandering when you’d have the courage to show your face after defiling my stepdaughter” said Daemon, his hand wrapping around the pommel of Dark Sister.
Aemond's jaw clenched at the barb, his Alpha instincts bristling at the insult. "Things will be set right by our marriage," he retorted, his voice sharp with indignation.
Daemon raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening into a knowing grin. "Of course, of course," he replied, his tone oozing with insincerity. "Nothing like a hasty ceremony to make up for your indiscretions, eh?"
But before Aemond could respond, Daemon continued, his tone dripping with condescension. "I do hope your grandsire hasn’t taken the news too hard, now that you can’t be sold off to forge alliances" he taunted, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I suppose his carefully laid plans will have to be put on hold now that you've tied yourself to my stepdaughter."
Aemond's fists clenched at his sides, the Alpha within him roaring with fury at Daemon's jibes.
Just as he was about to respond, Aemond felt a surge of panic course through him, a jolt of raw emotion that cut through the haze of his thoughts like a knife. It was Lucaela, her distress echoing through their bond with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine.
His mind raced back to his grandfather's words, the insinuation that Lucaela had deliberately placed herself in his path, tempting him with her presence.
Could it be true? Had she orchestrated their meeting, knowing full well the effect she would have on him?
The doubt gnawed at him, a relentless whisper in the back of his mind as he struggled to make sense of the tumultuous emotions swirling within him.
“L-Lucaela” exclaimed Aemond, his hand reaching up to his mating mark that had now started to sting.
Lucaela stared at Aemond for a moment before she turned and fled, her steps quick and determined as she disappeared back inside the Red Keep. Without a moment's hesitation, he followed, his instincts driving him forward with a single-minded purpose.
"Lucaela, wait!" he called after her, his voice echoing off the stone walls of the keep. But she did not stop, her form disappearing around a corner as she continued to flee from him.
With a surge of determination, Aemond quickened his pace, his footsteps echoing loudly in the empty corridors as he chased after her.
Finally, he caught up to her just outside her chambers, his chest heaving as he reached out to gently grasp her arm, turning her to face him. "Lucy, please," he pleaded, his voice filled with urgency. "Tell me what's wrong. Why did you run?"
Lucaela's eyes were wide with fear and uncertainty as she looked up at him, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "I-I can't," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the pounding of their hearts.
But Aemond refused to let her push him away. "You can't or you won't?" he pressed, his voice tinged with frustration and desperation.
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As Aemond searched her eyes for answers, Lucaela's resolve crumbled under the weight of his gaze. She took a shaky breath, steeling herself to confess the truth that had been weighing on her.
"Aemond," she began, her voice trembling with emotion. "Daemon found out about Otto's scheming-about your family's plans to usurp the throne and have Aegon crowned instead of my mother."
Aemond's eye widened in shock at the revelation, the implications of Daemon's discovery sinking in with a sickening sense of dread. "How?" he breathed, his voice barely a whisper.
Lucaela swallowed hard, her hands trembling at her sides. "Someone overheard a conversation between Otto and one of his advisors and word got back to Daemon," she confessed, her voice barely audible above the pounding of her heart.
“What does that have to do with me?” asked Aemond.
"After Daemon found out about Otto's plans, he knows that you and Vhagar are Otto’s biggest asset.  He-he told me to place myself in front of you, to allow nature to take its course."
Aemond's eyes widened in shock, his mind reeling at the implications of her words. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice trembling with disbelief.
Lucaela swallowed hard, the truth spilling from her lips like poison. "He knew that as a newly presented Omega, no unmated Alpha could resist me," she confessed, her voice shaking with shame. "He told me to use that to my advantage, to tempt you into-into succumbing to your desires."
A wave of anger surged through Aemond, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as he struggled to process the betrayal that lay before him. "And you-you went along with it?" he demanded; his voice laced with accusation.
Tears welled in Lucaela's eyes as she met his gaze, her own heart breaking at the pain she had caused him. "I-I didn't know what else to do," she admitted, her voice cracking with emotion. "I thought-I thought I was helping, that I was ensuring my mother’s claim”
How could you?" he demanded; his voice thick with emotion. "How could you deceive me like this, Lucy? To use our bond for your own gain, to manipulate me-“
But before he could finish his tirade, Lucaela scoffed, her own frustration boiling over at his accusations. "And what about Otto's scheming to usurp the throne?" she shot back, her voice tinged with bitterness. "Did you really think that Daemon would stand idly by while your grandsire plotted to undermine my mother’s claim?"
Aemond recoiled at the venom in her words, the truth of her accusations striking him like a blow to the chest.
"Lucaela, I-" he began, his voice faltering as he searched for the right words.
But she held up a hand, cutting him off before he could speak. "I'm not excusing what I did, Aemond," she admitted, her voice softening slightly. "But usurping the throne from the named heir, it’s wrong”.
"In order for your mother to secure her reign, she would have to eliminate any potential threats to her power. Aegon, Me even Daeron. A living contender invites challenge," he continued, his voice heavy with resignation. "And in Rhaenyra's eyes, any one of us could be seen as a threat to her rule”.
Lucaela's eyes flashed with indignation, her voice rising with anger as she countered Aemond's grim assessment. "How dare you, Aemond," she spat, her words sharp with frustration. "My mother would never harm anyone. You are her blood. You would be part of her rule as Queen, not victims of her ambition."
“Did she not demand that I be sharply questioned-to discover where I heard slanders against her bastards” snapped Aemond.
The fire in her eyes burned bright, fuelled by a fierce loyalty to her mother and a deep-seated belief in her righteousness. "Otto has dripped his poison in your ear," she accused, her voice trembling with emotion. "You've let his doubts cloud your judgment, but I refuse to let you believe such lies."
“How can I be assured that they are lies” replied Aemond.
"Aemond, please," she implored, her tone softened with earnestness. "Search our bond. Feel the truth in my words. My mother has no intention of harming you or your siblings."
Aemond hesitated, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air between them. But as he gazed into Lucaela's eyes, he saw nothing, but sincerity reflected back at him, a raw honesty that stirred something deep within his soul.
Closing his eye, Aemond reached out through their bond, searching for the truth amidst the tumult of emotions that swirled within him. And as he delved deeper, he felt a sense of clarity wash over him, a profound realization that cut through the fog of doubt and uncertainty.
Lucaela wasn't lying. Her mother, Rhaenyra, harboured no ill intentions toward him or his siblings. It was a truth that resonated deep within him, anchoring him in the certainty of their shared bond.
Aemond pressed his forehead against Lucaela's, their bond pulsing with the intensity of their shared emotions. "My grandsire told me that crowning Rhaenyra would divide the Seven Kingdoms and start a war," he murmured, his voice heavy with concern.
But Lucaela shook her head, her eyes filled with a solemn conviction. "Usurping the throne is what will start a war," she countered, her voice steady despite the turmoil that raged within her.
“I’m worried Lucy-“
“Aemond, please listen to me," she implored, her gaze pleading with him to understand. "My mother is the named heir. It is her birthright, recognized by law. To challenge her claim would only sow further discord and violence only begets more violence. If you take the throne by force, it will only lead to bloodshed and chaos."
Aemond's expression softened as he regarded Lucaela, her sincerity and wisdom shining through in her words. "But what if-“
“-The House of the Dragon needs to stand together as one. Let the realm see us united, witness our strength and unity."
She reached out to take his hand, her touch warm and reassuring. "We can show the realm that we are not divided by ambition or greed," she continued, her voice filled with conviction. "That we are bound by blood and loyalty, and that together, we are stronger than any external threat."
“I want to believe you-” whispered Aemond.
“What do you think would happen to us-to me if Aegon was crowned King? It works both ways Aemond, my life would be forfeit as would that of my mother, stepfather and brothers-Otto wouldn’t let us live” whispered Lucaela.
The Alpha inside Aemond bristled with anger at the thought of Lucaela being killed, as angry as he was at her scheming, he knew she was right.
The only thing to do was make a choice-believe his Omega and trust that her word was true, or side with his grandsire and stand on the precipice of war.
In the end it was the Alpha inside who made the choice.
"My Alpha, issa zaldrīzes," she murmured, her voice a gentle caress against his senses (My dragon).
The bond between them pulsed with a primal energy, igniting a fierce longing within Aemond's heart. The Alpha inside him roaring to life, demanding that he seek to make amends with his mate, to bridge the divide that had grown between them.
Unable to resist the pull of their bond any longer, Aemond leaned in close, his lips brushing against Lucaela's ear as he whispered his own confession. "My Omega, I need you" he breathed, his voice husky with desire and regret.
“Then take me Alpha-claim what belongs to you. Now and always” whimpered Lucaela.
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Aemond suddenly lunged forward and pressed his lips to hers.
Their kiss was rough and vicious. Consisting of teeth and tongue.
It was an eruption of frustration and passion. Hands everywhere, grabbing, scratching, and pulling at one another.
He spun Lucaela around and pressed her face against the wall, with one hand on the back of her neck and the other quickly untying the laces of his breeches.
Aemond nudged her ankle with his foot, signalling for her to open her legs wider.
His body covered hers as he sucked and licked the delicate skin of her neck, leaving red marks in his wake.
Lucaela moved her head to the side and moaned loudly as she felt Aemond’s teeth nipping at her skin.
Not having the patience to properly prepare her, Aemond spat into his hand.
Aemond ran his hand up and down the hard length of himself, eyeing his Omega with an animalistic hunger, a smirk on his lips as she bent forward for him.
He pulls aside her small clothes as he guides himself to her entrance, she barely has a moment to adjust before he is pressing his cock forcefully inside and stretching her brutally, causing her to cry out.
“FUCKING TAKE IT!” growls Aemond.
Lucaela can’t think of anything but the intense pounding thrusts that greet her, causing her to wail and moan, causing tears form in her eyes, before running down her cheeks.
Aemond sets a brutal pace, his hips crashing into hers.
Then he withdraws from her and spins her around, lifting her into his arms, his mouth pressed against hers as he quickly thrusts back inside her.
“YES! YES! AEMOND!” screams Lucaela.
“FUCK!” shouts Aemond as he feels her cunny clenching around his cock.
“P-Please Alpha-“ wailed Lucaela.
Aemond digs his fingers into the soft flesh of Lucaela’s hips, pulling her body against his as he thrusts forward, his singular eye focused on where they are joined.
His cock shining with her slick, the knot beginning to swell at the base, but he doesn’t want to finish not yet, not like this. So he withdraws from her again, making her whimper in frustration.
But Aemond ignores her as he lays her on the chaise lounge and falls to his knees.
Sliding his calloused hands up her legs, bunching the fabric of her small clothes in his hand before he rips them from her body.
“Aemond” shrieked Lucaela as Aemond’s mouth descends on her cunny.
Ravenously, he pressed into his Omega’s dripping core with his tongue, in and out, much faster than his cock ever could.
Still gasping, Lucaela clutched at his head with one hand, her other digging into the fabric of the chaise.
Aemond withdrew from her soaking wet core and lashed hard at her clitoris with his tongue, pulling on it with his lips. He was hard, fast and brutal, alternating between her assaulted bundle of nerves and drinking deep from her cunt.
Lucaela ground down on Aemond, hard; his tongue speared deeper inside her, and she felt the warm curl of her peak approach.
Aemond growled, deep in his throat; a sound that she didn’t hear very often. The vibration of his vocal cords rippled through to his tongue and Lucaela gasped; she felt every vibration keenly. Her body tensed for her peak– But Aemond pulled away from her and smirked, his chin shining with her slick.
“A-Aemond” gasped Lucaela, the tears of frustration spilling down her cheeks.
“Be a good little Omega and take what your Alpha gives you” said Aemond as he reached for the laces of her dress before he grew impatient and tore it from her body, leaving her breasts bared.
His tongue licking at the stiffened rosy peak.
“P-Please. Alpha” sobbed Lucaela as she felt his hard cock sliding against her folds.
“Hmm” growled Aemond as he wrapped his hand around his wife’s throat and sheathed himself inside her once more.
“God. Yes. Aemond” moaned Lucaela.
He began to thrust in and out of her in deep achingly slow thrusts.
“Your cunt is dripping, it's so beautiful” sighed Aemond.
Slowly thrusting back and forth. Over and over, withdrawing further each time, until his cock entirely withdrew from her warm wet entrance. He marvelled at her body. Such a beautiful, succulent thing his Omega was. Allowing him entry into the most sacred parts of her body.
Aemond began to fuck her in earnest, his fingers digging into the flesh of her throat, using her as leverage as he repeatedly plunged his cock into her cunny, over, thrilled to hear Lucaela’s moans of need echoing around their chambers.
His thrusts, brutal and unrelenting.
“Come for me, love” breathed Aemond.
Lucaela’s. screamed as her desperately needed peak exploded from her body, making every limb tremble as her body bucked around Aemond’s cock.
Gods, he needed to spill his seed, to see her swollen with his pup. But he wanted to watch her ride him to completion.
So, with his cock still nestled inside her, Aemond manoeuvred himself into a sitting position with Lucaela on his lap.
“Give me another-I want you to come on my cock again” growled Aemond.
Lucaela ripped open the cotton shirt he was wearing and ran her hands over the defined muscles of his chest, her nails digging into his pale skin.
“Oh” gasped Lucaela as she rolled her hips against Aemonds.
“That’s it baby, take it. Take all of me”.
Aemond placed his hands on Lucaela’s hips and marvelled at his Omega as she rode him.
Lucaela dug her nails into Aemond’s chest as she moved her hips against his, his cock hitting the sweet spot inside her perfectly.
“A-Aemond” moaned Lucaela as he moved his hand to her breasts and once again took one of her nipples into his mouth, his teeth gently grazing the rosy bud.
“Let go baby, I can feel you clenching around me” exclaimed Aemond, as he moved to the other breast and lavished it with the same attention as the other.
Lucaela’s thighs began to burn, as she felt her second peak approach.
“AEMOND” screamed Lucaela as she felt Aemond’s knot slip inside her.
 “God. Lucy-my Lucy” groaned Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he finally spilled his seed inside her, collapsing against the chaise, breathing hard.
It took a good while for Aemond to regain his senses. Meanwhile his Omega had collapsed against him, her face pressed into his neck.
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Kings Landing was a buzz with activity. The guests were arriving, the preparations had been made and it was finally here. The day Lucaela and Aemond would stand together in the great sept and get married.
Lucaela was so nervous that she decided to skip breakfast, as she wasn’t sure that she could actually stomach food.
After bathing, Lucaela’s maids began to help her get ready. Her dark hair was brushed and twisted into elegant braids and the Valyrian steel necklace that had once been gifted to her mother by Daemon was placed around her neck.
The cool metal resting against the mating bite that already marred her pale skin.
Her wedding dress had a fitted sleeveless bodice with a modest neckline. The skirts flaring out behind her like a cloud.
As soon as the gown had been buttoned and her maiden cloak tied, there was a soft knock at the door.
It was her mother.
“You look beautiful” gasped Rhaenyra as she looked her daughter up and down.
“Thank you” replied Lucaela smiling.
“I’ve come to escort you to the sept and Daemon will walk you down the aisle”.
“D-Do I look like a bride mother?” asked Lucaela.
“You look perfect my sweet girl-but tell me is this what you truly desire?”
“Yes mother-“ replied Lucaela.
“I do not agree with Daemon’s scheming-“ said Rhaenyra as she took her daughters hand.
“It was for a purpose mother-I was always meant to marry for allegiance”.
“I hate that you have done this for me-“ replied Rhaenyra.
“I do not. You are my mother and my future Queen, I would see myself from this world if it meant you were safe” said Lucaela firmly.
“My sweet girl what a precious gift you are-“ exclaimed Rhaenyra as she pressed a series of kisses to Lucaela’s face.
“Aemond isn’t all bad mama-he makes me feel desired” whispered Lucaela blushing.
“I can see the marks of Aemond’s desire for you” quipped Rhaenyra.
“Mama” gasped Lucaela.
“Right, shall we get going. It’s almost time” said Rhaenyra brightly.
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The sept was decorated beautifully, but it all paled in comparison to Aemond who was stood beside the High Septon.
He was elegantly dressed, his black tunic decorated with silver dragons and his Targaryen cloak tied loosely around his shoulders. His long hair tied back in its usual half up, half down style.
The horns signalled the beginning of the ceremony and begrudgingly Lucaela took Daemon’s arm.
“You look beautiful my daughter” muttered Daemon.
“Thank you, father,” replied Lucaela.
“Be mindful Lucy-Desperate men are dangerous” whispered Daemon as he nodded towards Otto and Larys Strong who were muttering to one another.
“I had assumed that the traitors would have been dealt with already”.
“In due time-I cannot wipe out half of the Kings council, we must be vigilant and strike when the cunts least expect it” said Daemon.
“Mother must be persuaded to remain in Kings Landing, returning to Dragonstone isn’t the solution” said Lucaela softly.
“I agree” uttered Daemon.
“Thank you for escorting the bride Prince Daemon. If you would be so kind as to wait for the Princess to remove her maiden cloak” said the Septon.
Lucaela undid the ties of her maiden cloak and handed it to Daemon who nodded respectfully to the Septon and took his seat next to Rhaenyra.
“You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection” said the Septon loudly.
Aemond removed the cloak bearing the colours of house Targaryen and draped it around Lucaela’ shoulders.
Aemond then took Lucaela’ hand and smiled as the Septon tied their hands together by a ribbon.
“In the sight of the seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one, for eternity. Now you may look upon one another and say these vows together” exclaimed the Septon.
“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am his and he is mine from this day until the end of my days” said Lucaela, her lip wobbling slightly.
“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am hers and she is mine from this day until the end of my days” declared Aemond loudly.
“The vows have been spoken. You may kiss your bride”.
Aemond hesitated for a moment before he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Lucaela’ lips.
“ñuhon” whispered Aemond as he pulled away (Mine).
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The grand feast in the throne room of the Red Keep was a sight to behold, a dazzling display of opulence and extravagance befitting the union of two noble houses. The room was alive with music and laughter, the air filled with the tantalizing aroma of exotic dishes and fine wines.
Aemond and Lucaela sat side by side at the head table, their fingers intertwined as they shared stolen glances and whispered words of love. But despite the festivities that surrounded them, the Alpha inside Aemond was restless, his senses ablaze with the primal urge to claim his mate.
As the night wore on and the feast reached its crescendo, Aemond found himself increasingly unable to resist the pull of his desires. The mating bite on Lucaela's neck called to him like a siren's song, its intoxicating scent sending waves of arousal coursing through him.
Desperation clawed at Aemond's senses as he struggled to maintain his composure, the need to reclaim his Omega growing more urgent with each passing moment. But amidst the revelry of the celebration, he knew that they would need to wait until they were alone, until they could be together in the privacy of their chambers.
Suddenly Aemond’s senses sharpened, a strange scent tickling at the edges of his awareness. It was faint, almost imperceptible, but to Aemond, it was unmistakable.
Nosing Lucaela's mating mark, he inhaled deeply, his heart pounding with anticipation. And then he caught it—the faintest hint of milk, sweet and intoxicating, mingling with the scent of their bond.
With a surge of excitement, Aemond turned to Lucaela, his eyes shining with joy. "Lucy," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "You're carrying my pup."
Lucaela's eyes widened in disbelief, her hand instinctively moving to rest against her stomach. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice filled with wonder.
Aemond nodded eagerly, his heart soaring with pride. "I can scent it as your Alpha, the scent of milk is unmistakable," he explained, his voice filled with excitement.
Tears welled in Lucaela's eyes as she processed the news, a radiant smile spreading across her face. "Aemond," she breathed, her voice filled with love and gratitude. "I can't believe it”
The Alpha inside Aemond surged with a primal delight, a fierce sense of pride and joy coursing through him like wildfire. To pup his sweet Omega mate was a dream he had scarcely dared to imagine.
As he gazed upon Lucaela, his heart swelled with love and adoration, his Alpha instincts urging him to protect and cherish her and their unborn pup with every fibre of his being.
With gentle caresses and tender words, Aemond showered Lucaela with affection, his touch a promise of the unwavering devotion and support he would offer her as they embarked on this new journey together.
As Aemond and Lucaela reveled in the joy of their news, their moment of intimacy was suddenly interrupted by the boisterous arrival of Aegon. With a mischievous grin, Aegon sauntered over, his eyes dancing with amusement.
"Well, well, well," he declared with a playful smirk. "I think it's time you two lovebirds got a room, don't you?"
Aemond's scowl deepened at his brother's teasing, but before he could retort, Lucaela gently squeezed his hand, a knowing smile playing at her lips. With a soft chuckle, she rose to her feet, her gaze locked with his.
"Shall we, my love?" she whispered, her voice laced with laughter.
Aemond's heart swelled with affection as he returned her smile, his Alpha instincts urging him to protect and care for her above all else. With a nod, he rose to his feet, his hand entwined with Lucaela's as they made their way out of the crowded hall
-Months Later-
In the dim light of the birthing chamber, Lucaela's laboured breaths echoed against the stone walls, her grip on Aemond's hand tightening with each wave of pain.
Aemond stood by her side, his heart heavy with worry yet brimming with pride as he watched over her, offering words of comfort and encouragement with every contraction. "You're doing amazing, my love," he whispered, his voice a steady anchor amidst the storm of pain. "Just a little longer, and our pup will be in your arms."
With each passing moment, Lucaela's strength grew, her resolve unwavering as she pushed through the agony with unwavering determination. And then, finally, after what felt like an eternity, their pup emerged into the world, a tiny bundle of life cradled in Lucaela's arms.
Tears welled in Aemond's eye as he beheld his newborn pup, his heart overflowing with an indescribable sense of joy and wonder. "He's beautiful," he breathed, his voice trembling with emotion.
Lucaela smiled through her exhaustion as she gazed down at their son, her fingers gently caressing his soft, newborn skin. "Aeron," she whispered, her voice filled with love as she spoke his name for the first time.
As Aeron let out his first cries, a sense of awe washed over them, a profound realization settling in their hearts. For even in his first moments of life, he emitted a scent similar to that of his father—Aeron was destined to be an Alpha.
As Aemond cradled his newborn son in his arms for the first time, his heart swelled with a love so fierce and profound that it felt as though it might burst from his chest.
"My son," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "My precious Aeron. My boy"
Tears welled in Aemond's eye as he looked upon the small, features of his son, the exact mirror of his own, his fingers gently tracing the delicate curve of his cheek. In that moment, he vowed that Aeron would always know his attention, his kindness, and his love and devotion.
"You will grow up strong and brave," he murmured, his voice a soft promise. "I will teach you to be honourable and just, to stand up for what is right and to protect those you love."
With each word, Aemond felt a sense of purpose settle within him, a determination to be the father his son deserved. For Aeron was not just his son—he was his legacy, his hope for the future, a symbol of the love and bond that he shared with Lucaela.
As the joyous celebration of new life echoed throughout the halls of the Red Keep, a solemn hush fell over the chambers of King Viserys Targaryen.
Beside him stood his loyal attendants, their faces etched with sorrow as they watched over their beloved King in his final moments.
“With a final, gentle exhale, Viserys' hand went limp, his eyes closing.
"Aemma," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper as he reached out through the darkness, his thoughts drifting to the wife he had lost so many years ago.
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"Queen Rhaenyra of House Targaryen," he intoned, his voice carrying the weight of centuries of tradition. "The First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."
With a graceful movement, the High Septon lowered the golden crown onto Rhaenyra's brow, the weight of it settling like a mantle of authority upon her shoulders. And as the crown gleamed in the dim light of the sept, Rhaenyra felt a sense of pride and purpose swell within her heart.
"And her Consort King, Daemon of House Targaryen," he declared, his words ringing out with solemnity. "May their union be blessed by the Seven, and may they rule with wisdom and justice for all the days of their reign."
A ripple of applause swept through the crowd as Rhaenyra and Daemon exchanged a knowing glance, their hands clasped together in a silent vow of unity.
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In the quiet chambers of their quarters, Aemond stood watch over his mate as she recovered from giving brith. Beside them lay their newborn son, Aeron, his tiny form cradled in the warmth of his mother's embrace.
Despite the grandeur of the occasion unfolding within the walls of the Red Keep, Aemond had made a solemn vow to remain by Lucaela's side, his protective instincts as an Alpha driving him to ensure her safety and that of their pup.
And so, as the sound of cheering crowds echoed through the castle walls, Aemond and Lucaela remained cocooned in the quiet sanctuary of their chambers, though they may have missed the pomp and pageantry of Rhaenyra's coronation, Aemond knew in his heart that their absence was a small price to pay for the precious moments they shared as a family.
But as Aemond gazed out of the window, his thoughts were consumed by the weight of uncertainty that hung heavy upon his shoulders. With Rhaenyra now crowned as Queen, the future seemed more uncertain than ever before.
Would their lives be in jeopardy under her rule, or would Lucaela's assurances of her mother's intentions hold true?
The memory of his grandfather's warnings echoed in his mind, a haunting reminder of the dangers that lurked in the shadows. Otto Hightower's schemes had been thwarted, but the threat to their family still lingered, a dark spectre looming on the horizon.
Lucaela stirred from her slumber, her presence a comforting balm amidst the storm of his thoughts. As he turned to look at her, her eyes fluttered open, and she reached out to take his hand in hers, her touch a silent reassurance of their bond.
"Are you alright, my love?"
Aemond forced a smile, though the worry still gnawed at his heart. "I'm fine," he replied, his voice strained. "Just-thinking."
Lucaela's brow furrowed with worry as she squeezed his hand gently. "Whatever happens, we will face it together," she said, her voice filled with determination.
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As Daemon sat next to his wife, his sharp eyes trained on the trio of men engaged in hushed conversation across the room. Otto Hightower, Larys Strong, Jasper Wylde, and Tyland Lannister—men whose ambitions and treachery simmered beneath the surface, threatening to undermine the fragile peace of the realm.
As Daemon's gaze met theirs, they offered him a hesitant smile, a silent acknowledgment of their unease of what the future would bring. But Daemon remained stoic, his expression unreadable as he raised his goblet of wine in a silent toast.
The time had come to confront the traitors who sought to plot against his wife, Queen Rhaenyra. With a sense of purpose coursing through his veins, Daemon wrapped his hand around the pommel of his sword, the weight of it a comforting presence at his side.
The blood of the treasonous cunts would serve as a warning to all who dared to oppose Rhaenyra's rule. With steely resolve, Daemon vowed to root out the rot that festered within their midst, to ensure that justice was served, and the realm remained united under his wife's rightful reign.
As he took another sip of wine, the taste of it bitter upon his tongue, Daemon knew that the road ahead would be fraught with peril. But with his sword in hand and his wife's reign to defend, he would stop at nothing to protect what was rightfully hers.
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