#imagine being so fucking capitalism poisoned

[dyketubbo]

properly got the chance to read through the statements made by pomme dapper and ramons admins (plus admin 18s and some of the twitter update admins) and jeez i feel so bad for them but especially pommes admin. something incredibly sinister about focusing so much mistreatment on the admin who comes from the country where the union efforts are coming from while making merch of the character they played. capitalism is the enemy of creativity. whoever the people are that are removing admins without notice, theyre the ones that deserve to be removed from the project. not the egg/worker/animal admins that the whole fucking story is built on the backs of

#imagine being so fucking capitalism poisoned #that youd rather mistreat and kick off the people who help make the project what it is #than pay them for WORKING *DAILY* to keep the story going #what a fucking joke #mask mews #qsmp #hardly anyone is getting on the server. bads taking a break. a big part of why tubbos still getting on #is because of the tubbathon + he has to to work on his project #pierres on mostly to be afk and pac and phil get on rarely while other ccs just Arent getting on the server or are doing other things #and even when those who get on the server get on. they talk about missing the eggs. how much they wish they were there #qsmp did good for itself when the eggs werent around dont get me wrong #but the eggs are a GIGANTIC part of its success. it wouldnt be the same without them #you cant downplay how important they are to the very fucking structure of qsmp #especially because the egg admins also play the fed workers and animal characters #refuse to pay your workers what they deserve and eventually itll all fall apart. just because its a slow process with major corporations #doesnt mean itll be slow for smaller projects like this. thats just not how it works

[lesamis]

1810s dashboard but it's niche drama

💛 heartofanna Following

imagine cancelling someone for saying war is bad

🧵 sharethewoe Follow

#didn't expect better from w*rdsworth but some people i rly thought i could count on…… #anyway we will live to see this empire fall. can't stop history lol (via @heartofanna)

speaking as someone who was press ganged at the age of 17 to serve in his majesty's royal navy i couldn't be more grateful for your poem. young men like me are cannon fodder and you spoke for so many of us. fuck napoleon but fuck parliament even more.

86 notes

chatterpwned-deactivated78345629743

stable forgiving virtuous flourishing in my lane definitely not buying poison moisturized unbothered never been better

chatterpwned-deactivated78345629743

me when i lie

179302 notes

🏛 mynoseisfine Follow

Settling this once and for all. What does the public actually think about the Parthenon marbles debate:

🦉 realminerva Follow

lol i know it’s you lord elgin

🦉 realminerva Follow

like we joke and all but fully aside from the fact that removing the sculptures from greek soil was vulturine and opportunistic etc, it’s really just the tip of a frankly gigantic mountain of imperialist bullshit. let’s not pretend we haven’t been brutally killing hundreds who resisted oppression in india, LITERALLY BOMBED A NEUTRAL EUROPEAN CAPITAL, and embarrassed ourselves in the charge against napoleon for years now. pathetic ass empire & evil as hell to boot. @mynoseisfine the greeks who carved your marbles millennia ago would kick your tory ass so hard

3661 notes

🎀 emmawoodhousestan Follow

how do i still keep seeing thomas chatterton's final post being reblogged, wtf is wrong with you freaks??? he was seventeen it was tragic and horrible and happened ages ago. he was a kid just let him rest

294 notes

🍎 masque-off Following

callout post for @castleyeah @lordsidmouth @officialcoe @parliamentofficial: they oppress, murder and famish the british working people & also suck majorly

⛪ castleyeah Follow

sour cuz you’re unfit to have custody of your own kids huh

🍎 masque-off Following

proud to be the dad of a newborn who could already rend your pudding spine asunder with a mere glance

187 notes

🦆 mallardturner Following

finished this today 😊

44 notes

😎 chadeharold Follow

why is it always “you’re risking your life and legacy & will get yourself killed before the age of five and twenty” and never how was swimming the hellespont the hellespont looked fun was it fun

🎭 loved-joanna Mutuals

ohhh my god you swam the hellespont five years ago?? wooow should we tell everyone?? should we throw a party?? should we invite famous hero of greek myth leander who swam the hellespont

😎 chadeharold Follow

@loved-joanna look we never had any beef & don’t have to start this now. it’s cool that you’re sticking up for my ex, you guys were friends first, but just know that i’ve always trusted your opinion on my work & genuinely respect and admire you & would still be up for a collab whenever.

🎭 loved-joanna Mutuals

yea sure why don’t your lips collab with my ass

😎 chadeharold Follow

on it boss

1009 notes

#literally call me. down if you are

🍂 endymion Follow

sorry is it me or is the assassin who stabbed german bootleg wordsworth kinda…… 🥵

💄 biprincesscharlotte Mutuals

JOHN KEATS????????

2427 notes

#i'm p sure this is the author of lamia thirstposting on main??? help

🌾 huntsmanx Follow

romanticism this romanticism that why don’t you romanticise universal suffrage and rights for labouring people

🌾 huntsmanx Follow

anyone else in jail for seditious libel

🏹 axelaidtotheroot Mutuals

lmao i'm one of the “anyone else”s and i know you’re enjoying family visits and apparently some kind of cushy armchair situation, plus tons of books. try being in here as a spencean dude they won’t even let me learn how to write. worst of all some evangelical came by yesterday just to proselytize & put me “on the right path” fml

8341 notes

🗻 mounttambora Follow

y'all i don't feel so good :/

59 notes

#if you use dark mode...........rip i guess #this was the most fun i've had writing anything in so long. also. if you see the timeline not check out no you don't #(wedderburn was only imprisoned in the 1820s i think & the lamia volume was also published in 1820) #(also up to you whether he's responding to henry or leigh hunt. it's the 1810s everyone's in jail esp if they're a hunt) #romanticism #and just to be sure. #long post

[somelazyassartist]

To go with my last post about Thistle acting capital-W Weird™ around Laios, it really does make perfect sense when you think about their history from Thistle's perspective instead of through Laios' like we actually see.

Imagine being Thistle, and you're like, I don't know, 14, and you're the royal court jester and adoptive son of your King. And you just got a baby brother and you're so excited about it. It is, without doubt, the happiest day of your life so far. While you're celebrating a few of your family's servants and guards come in to help. One seems somewhat confused about the situation but you probably assume he's just a new hire, it makes sense to bring in added security when there's a new prince around. You don't see this knight again anytime afterwards, but you're not exactly in charge of hiring or firing guards, so it's not really any of your business where he wandered off to.

You are Thistle, and you're now probably around 40 or so, still rather young for an Elf but a fine young man nonetheless. You're all dressed up to the nines and eager to perform your newest flute composition in honor of your little brother's wedding, and you're so, so proud of how far he's come. You helped your father raise him well. And just as the ceremony's about to kick up, and the people are starting to get drunk and make merry and dance, the King, your father, collapses. Poison, assassination, you hear people cry out. But as you run towards him you slam right into one of your guards- and have the extremely fleeting thought of "WAS that one of our guards? I haven't seen them around but they seem so familiar somehow"- but as soon as the thought occurs you're snapped right back into the present, and the fact that your father was murdered right in front of your eyes, and that you couldn't do a thing to stop it.

It's been a small time now, enough that you've had time to lay your King to rest, and to prepare your brother for the throne. It's his coronation day. You should be happy- you are PROUD, of course, of how far your little brother has come- but it is not the joyous day that you would have hoped for, and instead one of mourning for you. And looking around the room as the Kingdom's crown changes bearers, you see a guard, rather out of place. And this time, you have time to process why he feels so strange here. You've seen this man before. You KNOW you've seen this man before. This is the man who you have seen exclusively on the best day of your life and the worst, with no trace of him elsewhere in your life, and he is here, now, again. And for one who is clearly a Tallman, he hasn't aged a single day. There is something wrong with him, and with you, and you feel that if you keep crossing paths it will only end in disaster for you. So you try to kill him. And he disappears, right in front of your eyes. You don't see him around after this. You pray you never will again.

You are now The Mad Sorcerer- no longer, even, the false name given to you by your King. Only the title used by those who want to kill you remains in people's minds. It's been so long now. You can't even count how many years it's been, but you know your life has reached centuries upon centuries past what you were meant to live. And so has everyone you've ever cared about. In these years you have done everything you can to preserve the last bit of what you can call home, trapping yourself and your entire kingdom in an oasis of immortality. So what if the people may grow to resent you? You're protecting them. It's not your fault people may mistake your kindness for cruelty. Though many adventuring parties have tried, none have gotten through your defenses, so as long as you keep focused on your goal things will be fine. Except for this last week or so, where one particularly troublesome party has been making their way further than most would dare venture. And you swear on your Kingdom's throne, if this party includes who you think it includes, you are going to have a fucking aneurysm.

You are the Lord of this Dungeon, and unfortunately for you, your house has just been broken into. Even more unfortunately for you, you know exactly who did it. When you step through your front door, everything is unsettlingly clean. You wonder why in the world the man following you for your entire life would take the time to tidy your house if he's here to psychologically torture you. And then a thought hits you like a punch to the gut, and you rush upstairs, and you see all of your diaries taken out of their hiding spots. And you know that if they took a look through them they would find roughly 200 pages of glittery pink gel pen writing out repeatedly,

✨ This motherfucker again ✨

#i know i said in the tags of my last post that i didn't necessarily think Thistle and Laios had a gay thing #BUT i have decided exactly now that i am going to rarepair ship them exclusively because their dynamic is very fucked up and extremely funn #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #laios touden #laios dungeon meshi #thistle dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon spoilers #dungeon meshi spoilers #death tw #death trigger warning

[flamingo-writes]

Can you imagine that by being exposed to Hobie's "radioactivity" for so long, the reader begins to have powers? for example of nature,like Poison Ivy. That would definitely be fun to read.

I had to break my head with this idea, but I think it has potential for future fics!

Daffodil — Hobie x Reader

Warnings: cursing, and ai believe that’s all.

Word count: 580 words.

I might do more of these actually.

In the beginning, while figuring out Hobie’s spider abilities was a wild ride. Although, being the two peas of a pod that you were, you helped him figure everything out. Being the only who knew his secret drew you even closer if that was even possible.

What you didn’t consider was the radioactivity. You had theorised what had happened with the spider and the abilities, and while you had brought up radioactivity, you forgot about the tiny detail that radioactivity tended to affect everyone who was close to it.

The amount of time you spent with Hobie and the amount of time you spent tending to your plants, you started noticing weird things.

At first it was as easy and as wonderful as magically bringing your plants back to health. And then you started noticing plants coming out of your fingers.

After you freaked out, it was now Hobie’s turn to help you calm down, just like you’d done it for him back when he was bitten.

The discussion opened again, now trying to theorise now why this was happening to you.

When you finally arrived to the conclusion that it was perhaps because of Hobie’s radioactivity and your plants, Hobie asked you if you wanted to join him, raising the city, helping people who needed it.

“You know how fucking cool would that be?” Hobie said pulling you by the hips, bringing you closer to him. “My spider abilities, your plant abilities…”

“What could I do? Give people skin rashes with poison ivy?” You chuckled.

“You laugh about it, but it’s actually a good idea. My webs, your poison ivy plants…Not only we immobilise them, but you torture them with an awful itch and skin rash…” He said with a cheeky smirk.

“And how exactly would I be called? Plant-Girl sounds lame. Makes me sound like a hippie motherfucker,” You giggled softly.

“We have time to think about that…” He sighed. “How about Daffodil?”

“Are you serious?”

“They’re beautiful flowers, but they are very poisonous if you ingest them…” Hobie said proudly as he caressed your cheek.

“Who’s gonna eat a daffodil?”

“You’d be surprised with how stupid can people really be…” He chuckled.

For the next few weeks, while you learned how to use your newfound abilities, Hobie helped you out. Sadly, the plant-based abilities didn’t give you the enhanced physical abilities Hobie’s spider abilities. So you had a slight disadvantage there. However, you learned that your abilities could be incredibly powerful. Making plants grow everywhere, any sort of plant. You could mimic Hobie’s web.

However you used your abilities for the most part for protests and even art shows.

Hobie loved how you managed to create art out of plants, he thought it was beautiful. The same plants that got out of control when someone tried to cut the down.

“Capitalism is destroying nature, now we have nature taking over,” Hobie said proudly, as he watched a couple of cops tangled in the branches of a tree. “How does it feel to be completely useless against a tree?” Hobie said, poking fun at the cops, his Spider-Man suit concealing his identity.

Eventually people started hearing of Daffodil. Always wrecking havoc along with Spider-Man, although Daffodil remained more hidden, and wasn’t swinging around like Spider-Man. However, Daffodil usually left flowers behind, as a signature. Some bad guy or some abusive cop, tangled and immobilised in plants, usually poison ivy’s.

Hobie was insanely proud of you. And patrolling the city became the times more fun.

#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown #hobie x y/n #hobie fanfic #hobie brown fanfiction #astv hobie #hobie brown x y/n #hobie x you

[stick-ball]

saw a hc about jean moreau being hyper sexual especially post-ravens. thoughts? feelings?

thoughts AND feelings! Oh the joy of being given a chance for a hot second to discuss this. You came to the right place my love. ❤️

Trigger and age warning : rape, sex connected trauma, dissociation, psychological abuse, controlling relationships, discussion of sexual acts.

Okay so, being hyper sexual. You know who does that in the books? Andrew actually. I know some might look at me weirdly rn like, 'what the hell are you talking about, he doesn't let anyone touch him'. Yeah, that's true! But that doesnt take away from the knee jerk reaction. (I'm sorry I know this isn't exactly what you asked but I need to discuss andrew first, and that has a lot to do with jean, bear with me).

Andrew finds a partner that he can to some limit trust (leverage, deals, careful observation, "training" them to behave how he tells them) to follow his instructions, which gives him a sense of control. They can fuck, but it's him who's doing it. It's him who's touching, kissing ect. The other person, of course if they consent, get to partake but not create the experience. It's one of the very, very valid scenarios of hyper sexuality as a responce to rape. He is rewriting every poisoned nerve ending in his body. He doesn't actually get off from the sex. For his own release he needs privacy, as shown in the books. Andrew's problem can be, that due to his truly inhumane trauma he can fall into the mindset of defining his sense of self through sex. It's an action and he's a tool in this scenario. Then again, We circle back to control, which is also a key feature of his decisions and protectiveness. Taking total control of the situation which used to be utterly outside of it, with no way out of it. Rewriting it, giving the traumatic experience a positive ending, hell an ending - when, and as suddenly as he might want it to end, is the motivator here. I think what he finds satisfying in terms of sex, not control, is giving sexual consent to his partners and, which he finds just as important, them giving it to him. Because it wasn't given to him. It's a way of building trust.

The motivations sound pretty nice, even if heartbreaking, don't they? Seem uplifting? The problem is, even if in good faith, this process can be very harmful, trauma surviviors mention that (at least ones I discussed it with personally) it feels good, but in the long run it does what this type of coping mechanism always does to your brain (similiar reactions can be seen for different traumas), which is hurt it. It's a form of desensitisation that limits your brain's ability to percieve the situation. It's hard to rewrite and leads to hot and cold kind of reactions, so yeah, having a relationship with a capital R is, difficult. That's what I always understood as Nora saying they are never actually okay (andrew and neil). Or at least partly understood it as.

Okay, so this cleared a couple things up. Now JEAN. Jean and Andrew share some factors of their trauma. While not treated as such, Jean was technically fostered by the Moriyamas, and well, Andrew's experiences with being fostered are faaaaar from what it's supposed to be as well. The difference is in Andrew's situation everyone tried to pretend the horror is not happening, there must have been a lot of manipulation and coercion and just plain fucking gaslighting in these houses. Its hard to talk about but I can imagine some of these monsters wanted him to act like he is enjoying it, and thats just out if the emotional range of dealing with for anyone. Jean knew he's in a trap from day one. Moreover, when it comes to the rape's he was victim of it was ordered by Riko to be done by others. That's a different level of fucked up. What's even more important as distinction here is he stopped, when Jean stopped reacting and fighting it. Because what Riko wanted wasn't violation, that was the tool. He wanted to psychologically break him. When the fish stops flailing on the cat stops pushing it around.

And Riko was constant, his modus operandi was regular, and the psychological torture was the motivator behind most of his "conditioning" of Jean. This is a situation where the abuse has a cause for the victim. It sounds sick and I don't agree with it, but it's a game in their mind. In the books we can see that he learned how to limit the amount of attention Riko gave him and as we know he is not confrontational like Andrew with his problems. And yeah I don't mention Neil as confrontational here bcs he has conditioned himself to run from everything and say he's fine to everything so..., sometimes it erupts frk mit but that's not exactly the same, its a last resort.

Circling back, I think Jean is more likely to be sex repulsed. For him sex, which was a form of punishment, is a cause of anxiety. Sexual tension is easy to mix up with nervous tension because of a feeling of losing control of the situation. That's why if we do get romance in the new book, I am putting my money on it being very messy from his pov. The magical thing about trauma responces though, is that they're not black and white, and someone who is sex repulsed might also seek an ending to their anxieties through it. Yet, it's ts a bit of an opposite motivation to the one Andrew has. When Andrew thinks of himself as a tool, Jean is more likely to think of himself as an object. There's a difference. While Andrew wants to take control, Jean is more likely to use it as either a way to retraumatise himself - so his version of hypersexuality would include less control and more roughness and violence, actually trying to rile the partner up. It might stemm for him from low self worth or be a way of letting out his angers and frustrations. It's not that he is used to being hurt, it's that he doesn't expect anything different. I also think he is more likely to have problems with opening up in therapy. Where Andrew is active Jean is passive, and the opposite. The upside is he might actually be more likely to communicate emotionally than through rules and laws, it will take longer, but be a smoother transition, because more people understand it than Andrew's way of building relationships.

Hope this anwser satisfies you, I'm sorry if I got a bit carried away. 😅

#jean moreau hc #jean moreau #and #andrew minyard #i suppose #aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #jean moreau headcanon #the sunshine court #the sunshine court hc #aftg headcanon

[msmorningstaarr]

Holy and Heathen - Chapter 3 (A true lamb.)

Pairing: young!Oberyn MartellxF!Original Hightower Character

Word count: 8.7k

Chapter warning: sex; religious guilt; depressed oberyn; descriptions of poisoning and stabbing;

ao3 | masterlist

SUMMARY: Lady Melara Hightower is the youngest daughter of Lord Leyton Hightower and has a distinct, serious and pious personality. She is sent to serve the Faith as a Septa, but her destiny suddenly changes once she becomes betrothed to the heir of Dorne, Prince Oberyn Martell. She sees herself living in a land far from hers with distinct habits, dealing with many divergences and a husband far more wild than she could ever expect. Would she be capable of lighting the way of her mind and heart?

(Except for Melara Hightower, all characters do not belong to me but to George RR Martin, author of the 'A Song of Ice and Fire' book series.)

Oberyn

Moments rolled Oberyn’s head like a kaleidoscope of memories. Elia was his sweet spot, his strength, his weakness. His emotions were intense, it was only logical that his jealousy and sorrow would be no different.

He was the proudest of the Martells, that day, he wished he were a Targaryen. Elia was gone for good. Her life would be now in King’s Landing, being her husband’s princess and bearing the children he undeniably wished to father. He could not understand where all that feeling came from, knowing how wrong it was to fall in love with your own kin, all he knew was that he felt something else for her and she felt the same way. Feeling Elia so close to him and not being able to touch her was excruciating. He wondered if her lips tasted as sweet as honey and if her slender body would squirm while he licked her cunt until she shed tears of joy while came for him as many times as he wished. He never did such things with her, but liked to do it with other women, imagining that it could be far better with Elia. The warmth inside a woman’s walls was something exquisite, close to a spiritual experience for him. Having a man’s arse to bury his cock inside was also quite interesting, a desire he discovered in the early days of his youth. He had no sides when it comes to lust, he could bury his head between a woman's legs with pleasure while feeling a man sucking his cock with ease, driving him to a high level of bliss. His only condition was to be his way or no way would be done.

On the Street of Silk, Oberyn walked confidently. After that eventful moment between him and his betrothed, he grew bored of lady Melara and jealous of seeing Rhaegar around his sister, being sad once she left to bed him for the first time, but at least got satisfied that she was spared from the bedding ceremony, something he found to be crass and demeaning. Wine had poisoned his head with ill thoughts and a desire to take someone who would not be afraid of some kind of Holy Punishment for a sinful behaviour, so he walked towards the nearest and finest brothel he could find.

The establishment smelled like fresh roses and the walls were filled with moans and laughs from the whores and customers. So far, he was not really excited with his options. 

“Too pale.” he spread his legs while sitting at a chair, looking at the manager of the place, who was presenting him with some options. The girl blushed at Oberyn's words, but he did not seem to care. “Reminds me of my betrothed.” 

“They like them like this in the capital, my lord. To show that they don’t work on the field.” the man said and Oberyn pouted, drinking another sip of his wine. He wondered if Rhaegar would be pleasing Elia that night at least, someone had to be pleased that night, he thought.

“Show me others,” he commanded, plainly. Another sip on his wine. The liquor burned his throat but he did not care. The smell and taste of grapes only made him reiterate that the wine of that city tasted like piss, but he kept drinking and looking at someone to fuck his sadness away. 

A girl, extremely shy, showed up. A virgin, probably. Too young and Oberyn immediately shut her down. He liked them his age and no less. “Too young,” he replied, noticing the fear in the girl’s eyes. Oberyn was no older than twenty years and the girl seemed to be in her four and ten years of age, he wasn’t quite the fan of taking girls that looked like children. The man seemed to get impatient with Oberyn's picky manners. “Don’t like them shy.”

And finally, a feral, wild whore for him to fuck. Beautiful figure, slender and tall with brown skin and long, curly hair. Sitting on another man’s lap dressed with a thin white silk cloth, only covering her teats, ass and cunt. She caught Oberyn’s attention.

“I want her.” he pointed at the brown skinned girl, not caring at all if she was already taken. The manager of the establishment got slightly concerned.

“My lord…” he tried to speak.

“My prince,” Oberyn corrected. The man got confused at his words. “You don’t know 

me? I am prince Oberyn of House Martell, the heir of Dorne.” he said, with a cocky grin. “And I demand that girl.” 

He ignored all the other girls, walking down the hall in the girl’s direction. The manager followed the prince, worried about his future actions. “I beg your pardon, my prince. That girl is already taken, but I am sure I can…”

“Leave.” Oberyn replied, sternly turning his gaze at the man that held the whore he wanted. Then, he turned his eyes to the girl and she faced him. More closely, he could see a bit of Elia in her. “You come with me.” he said, extending his hand for her. The man holding the girl got outraged by the arrogance coming from Oberyn and laughed in mockery.

“You leave, you dornish pig.” and spat on the floor, close to the prince’s feet. Oberyn raised his eyebrows with a bitter laugh, already annoyed by the man’s taunting gestures.

“I believe you are not understanding that she is to be mine now. You may leave now alive or in pieces in some minutes.” he threatened. The man, appearing to be a trader, touched his sword and prepared to attack, but Oberyn quickly got his dagger and stabbed his left hand, attaching the member to the table.

“AH!” The man screamed in pain 

“A dornish pig knows better than you that in a small distance a sword is a bad choice.”

“Fucking cunt!” he screamed while groaning in pain. The whores looked in absolute horror at the scene and Oberyn twisted the weapon that crossed through his hand, increasing his pain while the other men bled and yelled in pain. 

“Prince Oberyn.” a man spoke softly, making Oberyn turn his back while holding the dagger that pierced the man’s hand. The dornish prince narrowed his eyes, trying to recognise who called him.

“Who addresses me?” he asked, holding firmly his weapon.

“I imagined you did not know me, my Prince. Allow me to introduce myself,” he said, slowly approaching Oberyn. “I am Benji, the owner of this establishment.”

Oberyn did not let go of the dagger, still pressuring it on the coarse man who screamed in pain like a pig about to get butchered. He took some enjoyment of making a man he considered to be stupid suffer, though. The prince looked at Benji and raised his eyebrows at the man. 

“Let go of the dagger, my prince. I am sure nothing will happen to either of you.” The man tried to reason with Oberyn, calmly. In the room was only Oberyn, Benji, the whore and the bleeding man who was already losing his strength to feel his pain by now.

“If I take this dagger from his hand, he shall bleed to death and it will spill on my attire. It is so beautiful, I made it just for my sister’s wedding, Princess Elia.” he said, with a fake proud tone of voice. Wine had drunk his head truly, for he was lying about the happiness of giving his beloved sister to a melancholic silver prince, something he was not fond of doing. “I don’t want to get covered in this dying pig’s blood, so my dagger remains here for now.”

“Come with me, I am sure I can manage for you to have the best treatment. It’s not every day we are in the company of a prince, brother to our future Queen,” the man said, courteously. “Val, prepare our best room for Our Highness and get ready yourself. Pour our prince some Dornish Red so he can feel at home.” Benji commanded and the girl obeyed, leaving after bowing at Oberyn

“That was the whore I paid for!” the man exclaimed. Oberyn twisted the dagger a bit more deeper and opened even more his wound, making him scream once more.

“I am sure I shall find another one worthy of your company. A curtsy of the house, my lord.” Benji negotiated.

The reputation that followed Oberyn was quite ruthless. After some time having scholars from Essos teaching him the arts of poisoning, he used it for his own benefit while fighting, creating a dreadful narrative around him. Even though not many in King’s Landing have seen him in person, the words spoke for themselves. His name had reached The Seven Kingdoms and beyond. Speaking ill or praising the man, he was Prince Oberyn of House Martell, inspiring fear and respect, with no cares to give about other people’s opinions. He knew that people knew his name and the things he did, this prospect made him feel quite comfortable.

“Scream once more and my dagger will cut your throat.” Oberyn menaced. The man was outraged but he was shitting his pants afraid of dying and in terrible pain. He would die anyway due to the poison he spread all over the blade, but Oberyn didn’t give too much importance to this fact at point of telling him this. “You,” he turned his gaze at the owner of the pleasure house. “Take this screaming pig out of my face. And bring me the lustiest of men you have here.” Finally, the salty prince would take his dagger off the man’s hand, making him groan in relief and pain. Blood sprayed everywhere, even on Oberyn’s face and the orange garments he had on. Some minutes passed, and the man died on that chair as he predicted.

“Your wish is my command, my prince. Come with me and I shall lead you personally to the chambers prepared for you.” Benji responded with a soft smile, while Oberyn cleaned his dagger on his own robe, leaving another big mark of blood on the cloth. He looked at the injured man for a last time and smirked at him, a way to ensure to himself that power was power. The prince walked towards Benji and left the dead man behind, moving to a beautiful chamber, with a large bed, orange walls and pieces of silk giving a sultry climate to the ambient, lightened by the moon from the window. The beautiful girl awaited him, sitting at the edge of the bed fully naked with a mischievous smile.

“I shall leave you two. There is dornish wine, fruits and the best meal, fit for a prince.” The owner said, politely.

“I am hungry for other things.” Oberyn replied, brushing his own lips and looking intensely at the lady.

Before he could leave, Oberyn held his arm, not letting him go. “Bring me the manager as well.” The enticing prince commanded. The owner swallowed his own spit.

“Of course. I shall prepare him for you, my prince.” Benji obeyed and smiled, leaving him with the whore alone. 

The dornishmen walked towards a small table, surrounding the girl as if she was a prey and he was a hunter, furtively looking at her. He served himself some wine and finally tasted some good wine. “I heard your name is Val,” he said, emphasising his accent. The whore stood up and approached him graciously.

“Yes, my prince.” she replied, eagerly. He smiled and handed her a cup of wine, which she drank with pleasure. Oberyn was extremely charming even under the influence, with deep brown eyes and a widowed look, mischievous and arrogant, he burned desire for the girl. In his mind, she had to be one of the goods, because since he laid his glances on her, no thought of Elia or Melara came to his mind.

“Then answer me a question, Val,” His hand cupped her breast, pinching her nipple. She closed her eyes and sighed in pleasure. Her nipples easily hardened, giving signs of indulgence. His lips reached her ear. “Have you ever fucked a prince?” 

“Can’t say I have. We have so few princes in this city.” Val replied, shuddering with his closeness and giggling.

“This is what makes us royals so rare, Val.” Oberyn said, reaching her waist and drinking a sip of her wine, his gaze never leaving hers. “It is not usual to see us among the commoners. But mind you that you live in a city that disposes of a high count of princes, compared to the other five kingdoms.” He coos, kissing her neck, squeezing her breast while placing the cup at the table. His arms involved Val and squeezed her rear, smirking all the time. Val gave him a kiss on his neck this time, making his body grow hot and his cock twitch inside his trousers. Her soft hands reached his hands and led him to the bed, grinning and lustfully facing him.

“Lay in bed and spread your legs for your prince.” he commanded and so Val did, eagerly. He kissed her foot while her legs spread open for him very carefully, like a viper involving its prey. With the tip of his middle finger, he slowly rubbed her clit, making the girl squirm in the bed. “Look at you… who was about to get fucked by a pink pig with a tiny cock who could barely appreciate that beautiful cunt of yours, having your night saved by me, who wants to make you reach your peak so much it’ll make you cry.” 

With two fingers inside of her, Val moaned loudly while he pleased her. Oberyn questioned himself if Melara could ever like to be fucked with his fingers, something he would be very tempted to try. “Then I feel ready to be filled up… m-my prince…” She said, faintly.

“Seems like I arrived at the perfect time.” A blonde man said entering the room. “Or perhaps I am late and missed all the fun.” Oberyn and Val look at the manager, who slowly walks in the direction of the bed and lays in the mattress on Oberyn’s side, kissing Val’s thigh briefly and then coming closer to Oberyn, rubbing noses.

“Nonsense, for the fun has just begun.” Oberyn replied, pulling the boy for a kiss.

********

The Seven must have cast a curse upon Oberyn. His head felt like it exploded and was shattered in pieces. The amount of wine he drank the day before was a true record indeed, and now he was paying the price for the consequences of his actions. He woke up alone in the large bed of the brothel. Val and the manager, who he did not bother to ask his name, probably left the bed the moment he fell asleep. Although being covered in blood, his attire was perfectly folded over a chair close to the mattress, waiting for him. There were new fruits, breads, bacon, honey and more wine for him to break his fast. He wanted nothing of that, since he needed to be for a last time with Elia before he would leave with his mother and betrothed.

“Good morning, my prince.” said Val, standing at the door. Now, she wore a simple dress made of pink silk but yet revealing and Oberyn smirked at her.

“Good morning to you, Val.” he replied, covering his eyes from clarity.

He had not given too much thought to lady Melara. All he could remember about her was that she was beautiful. Her skin was soft and creamy, but her hands callused. The prince found it to be odd at first, since she was a highborn lady, coming from a very wealthy family having hard working hands, but he remembered that she served the Faith. While other men would find displeasing the fact that Melara had an abnormal silence and lack of interest for socialisation, somehow he could have some sort of empathy for her. Although always knowing what to reply, she seemed oblivious to the arts of curtsying a man. Beautiful face and body, undeniably, however, something about her turned her presence… tough. 

“Does the sunlight burn your eyes, my prince? Perhaps I should ease your morning uneasiness.” she said, walking mischievously towards his bed and sitting at the edge of the mattress.

Oberyn looked at her with a grin on his face and got silent for a few seconds before speaking. “As much as I would be delighted to fuck you once more, I need to go back to the Red Keep. I am going back home to Dorne today.”

Val caressed his chin with a charming smile. “That is a shame, my Prince.” 

He stretched and yawned. “I should take you with me to Dorne. Perhaps to teach one or two things for my future bride.” he mocked, smirking at her while she put a berry inside his mouth. 

“And how do you know that she doesn’t know about such things? You took your bride’s maidenhood before the marriage, salty prince?” she teased and Oberyn laughed.

“Not yet . But I am afraid she is not very keen on the sensual arts.” he teased back and licked the honey left on her fingers after having a bite of strawberry covered in the sweet liquid.

Every man likes a shy woman, well behaved and extremely feminine, with a secret sexual appetite that would only be discovered by them. Anyhow, Melara was a dreadfully quiet person. Even when she experienced a heated kiss, all she could release was guilt, uneasiness. He expected to discover a secret and more loose part of Melara the moment they were alone, however, her responses were short and objective, not  engaged in conversation and no smile rose from her face, atitudes worthy of a Septa. 

He was not excited to have her as his wife either, but his mother caught him on a web of duty and his destiny was attached to hers, so he wanted her to feel good around his company, perhaps even grow love for her in his way, at least. 

“Such a droll tragedy, my prince.” the girl replied, serving him a cup of wine and giving it to his mouth. “Perhaps you should have a last breath of freedom, then.” Val mounted Oberyn eagerly, lifting her dress and slowly rubbing the wetness between her thighs on Oberyn’s cock, which quickly got hard for the whore. A large smile rose on his face while he prepared to undo his trousers. 

“A last breath of freedom shall you give me, then.” he replied, revealing his cock out of his pants.

Swiftly, Oberyn grabbed her by her thin waist and turned her body, throwing Val on the mattress and staying on top of her. Her lips went straight to his neck, where she would leave a big, purple mark. Oberyn groaned and easily took off the rest of her dress, revealing her bare body. He crooked his head on her shoulder and left his own mark there, before slapping the side of her ass and squeezing it strongly. Her hands reached his cock and stroked it, but Oberyn stopped her, blocking her hand to keep doing its moves.

“So eager… let me taste you first.” She laughed and he strongly held her fists biting, licking and sucking her upper body. Slowly, he let go off her arms to spread Val’s legs, hungrily kissing her inner thighs and edging her.

“Please, my prince…” She panted and giggled.

“Please what?” He teased, inserting two fingers inside of her, resulting in a loud moan.

“I need your lips…”

“Where?” He asked, spreading the transparent lubrification on her clit with his thumb while the other two fingers fucked her.

“My cunt, please…” She begged, moaning.

“Ask nicely.” He demanded

“Please, my prince…” She begged once more, loudly screaming.

“Your wish will be granted.” And he proceeded to swallow her clit, taking some tears of joy from the whore. His tongue invaded her slit with full desire, hands squeezing her thighs while desperate sounds let go her lips. 

A loud noise came from the door. The door was broken down and the noise of heavy metal garments took care of the room, replacing the singing of Val’s sweet moans. Annoyed, Oberyn stopped sucking her sensitive bound of nerves and looked behind, already putting his hand on his dagger. 

Two tall knights stood still behind him, the whore sat on the bed and closed her legs, shrinking her body to cover her nudity to the white cloak men. Another salty dornishmen looked at Oberyn sternly. Oberyn let down his guard once he noticed that one of them was his uncle, Prince Lewyn Martell. The knight had figures very similar to Oberyn’s traits. The other man, however, was not recognised by the younger prince.

“Your mother has been searching for you since last night,” He said sternly.

Oberyn giggled and, noticing that his intimacy was on display to the knights of the Kingsguard after the other man scoffed, Oberyn set his trousers back on.  

“My apologies, uncle,” Oberyn said, effortless. “My sister’s wedding was rather dull, and so was my betrothed.”

“You watch your mouth, boy,” the other man said, walking slowly with a plain expression. “This is my niece you are talking about.” The other man in question was Ser Gerold Hightower, his uncle's companion. Also known as White Bull, being tall, grey, and although being quite the old man, was still full active and was a legend on the battlefield, making justice to his title of Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

“My apologies, Ser…?” Oberyn asked, finishing to dress himself.

“Ser Gerold Hightower.” he replied, trying to hold his annoyance.

“Ah!” He exclaimed, with a wide smile. “How could I ever forget? I believe your nephew, my future father by marriage, introduced me to you at my sister’s wedding. That makes it a family reunion!” he laughed, making fun of the situation. The prince served himself a glass of wine and kept looking at the knights. “Do you want some wine?” He asked. “This is Dornish Red, much better than that piss you drink in the Red Keep.”

Lewyn and Gerold remained serious, both outraged with Oberyn’s lack of care he was giving to his reputation and to his bride to be’s honour. “The Queen requests for you to return home, Prince Oberyn.” Gerold said, ignoring his last statements.

“And if I say I have no desire to leave now? As you saw, I was in the middle of a very important deal with my dear Val.”

The girl was quiet the whole time, scared something would happen to her. “Your Queen commands you to return.” Lewyn replied, still serious.

“Then you should have said it before,” He said, his cup over the small table after finishing his drink. “I could never deny my Queen’s commands. I am so sorry, sweetling.” Oberyn turned his gaze at Val, who didn’t dare to open her mouth in the company of the knights. He left some gold dragons over the table. “I hope it pays for everything.” The dornish prince put his dagger on his bayonet and left besides Lewyn and Gerold.

Leaving the brothel, Oberyn was escorted by the two guards and the trio left the place in silence. No one would dare to speak to the Kingsguard or the prince. Oberyn was preparing himself to listen to berating and complaining about his ‘out of line’ behaviour at court. It didn’t matter for him if in the end he could get to spend one last moment with Elia, longing to touch her, embrace her and look into her eyes. His mind recollected Lady Hightower. He broke her honour and as much as he could not care less about it, the little lady had no fault in anything that was happening. Nevertheless, she was nothing like Elia. Elia was cunning, endearing, delightful. Oberyn was deeply attached to his sister, he could not bear the idea of staying away from her and that made his heart ache. Now that the wine was gone, his mind tortured him, making him contemplate that Elia belonged to Rhaegar, she would smile to him and she could be carrying his child, a bright babe-dragon. 

“Stop.” Oberyn ordered once they made their way to the Street of Steel. He saw a jewellery merchant at a small place, yet beautiful, worthy of royalty. “I want to take a gift for Lady Melara.” The prince looked at Gerold and beamed. The knights agreed to it and Oberyn moved forward to see the gems. There were rubies, emeralds, sapphires, amethysts and many other precious stones. The blacksmith looked at Oberyn suspiciously, due to his clothes covered in blood and accompanied by two white cloaks.

“How can I help you?” The man asked.

“I want to buy some gifts for my lady bride.” Oberyn said and the smith examined the prince from head to toes, noticing the remarkable blue and bruises the whore left on his neck. 

“Are you sure you can afford it?” The man replied and Oberyn tried to pull his dagger to intimidate the man, but Lewyn prevented his nephew quickly.

“This is a prince of Dorne and you shall address him with respect.” The knight said and the jewel maker quickly stopped his job and bowed to the prince.

“My apologies, Your Highness. I had no idea I…” 

Oberyn cut his words. “I don’t care.” He rolled his eyes and the man eagerly started to put on display some of his works. 

“I have many pieces ready to be selled, my Prince. These are forged in Valyrian steel with rubies carved in it.” He showed the rare set to the prince, who was instantly in awe with the necklace and earrings.

“That is rare.” Oberyn replied, lingering his eyes with scrutiny at the set.

“Indeed, my prince. It was very hard to find the steel to do it.” He replied, with sympathy.

“He makes the jewellery of the Royal Family.” Once Gerold spoke that sentence, his eyes lit up and an idea came to his mind.

“How long does it take for you to make those pieces?” The Prince asked.

“For you, it can be done within a day.” The smith replies.

“I will take the set made of Valyrian steel for my betrothed, but I also want a set of jewellery for my sister, Princess Elia. She loves diamonds and gold and I want you to make a necklace for her with the largest diamonds you have to be carved in the brightest gold. When you deliver it, tell her it was a gift from her beloved brother. Is that understood?” He said, placing a small bag of gold on the counter that separated the blacksmith from Oberyn, Lewyn and Gerold.

The man accepted the payment and smiled, putting the present involved in a cloth and lace. “Once more, my apologies…”

“No need for apologies.” Oberyn cut the man’s words once more and left with the Kingsguard back to the castle.

The three men arrived in the Red Keep and were led to the Queen’s garden, where his family, the Queen, Prince Rhaegar and the Hightowers were waiting for him. King Aerys was nowhere to be seen. Melara looked apprehensive, anxious. Her eyes narrowed and she appeared to be flabbergasted once she saw Oberyn covered in blood. The Hightowers and Queen Rhaella seemed to be extremely worried about his whereabouts and Ysilla was fuming with his absence. Elia was the only one who was truly calm, for she was the only one who trusted her brother’s instinct of adventure.

“Thank Gods!” Queen Rhaella said, relieved. 

“Brother!” Elia ran into his arms and embraced him, calmly and more discreet than she is used to. A very quick hug as well. “Where have you been? Why are you covered in blood?” 

“I was having fun, sister.” Oberyn replied and kissed his sister’s forehead. “My Queen.” And bowed at Rhaella, as a sign of respect for His Grace. “I insist on apologising for my sudden departure from the feast.”

“No need to apologise. We were worried about your absence, Prince Oberyn. But the Gods are good and you are safe and well… I hope.” She replied, noticing the blood all over his robe. “It is only a shame you lost our eventful morning here. You would be delighted to spend the morning with us.”

He darted his eyes on the sad Queen and smiled. “I am sure I would be amused to be in my family’s company.” Ysilla approached him and cupped his face, disguising her rage in front of the others with a polite smile and a false sensation of relief, but Oberyn knew too well that his mother wanted to cut him to pieces for doing what he did.

“You almost killed me with worry!” She exclaimed, noticing the marks on his neck and trying to cover it. Gently, Oberyn took her hands off his neck and kissed her hands. 

“I am fine, mother. No reason for all of this fuss.” The prince tried to argue, but he saw how exasperated his mother’s gaze was.

“As much as we would like to celebrate your return, I believe the prince should rest. He must be tired.” A sweet, low voice spoke. Lady Melara was quiet, watching the whole scene until she chose to defend him, an attitude that made Oberyn get surprised with her in a positive way. 

“Wise words, sister .” Elia replied with a smile on her face. He could see now with clarity her features. Her face was nearly ethereal. Pink, small lips, blue sharped eyes and a perfect nose. Her hair was all hidden in a lilac veil and her dress left a lot to imagination. With long sleeves and no cleavage, all he could see clearly was her face and a small necklace with sapphires carved in it. But her facial expression was indecipherable. 

“I can assure you all I am in no need to rest. Where I was, I had plenty of time to rest.” Oberyn smirked and Ysilla pouted her lips cautiously. Melara narrowed her eyes and the air tensed, but the dornish prince was unbothered with his words. 

“That is true, daughter. I imagine how thrilled you must be to leave with your future husband, but I believe that now we should give the Martells some space, perhaps.” Leyton said, trying to ease the tension.

“Lord Leyton speaks truthfully. I must insist that you extend your stay in King’s Landing for a day, Princess Ysilla. You too, Lord and Lady Hightower, I would be most glad to have you a day longer.” Rhaella said, gently squeezing her friend’s hands with a soft smile. Ysilla was hesitant, but accepted the invitation the Queen made.

“I thank you for your hospitality, Your Grace.” Oberyn replied, bowing once more and faced his betrothed.

“We also thank you for giving us a last opportunity to say our goodbyes to our girl, Your Grace.” Lady Rhea replied, curling her lips on a smile and lady Melara just nodded her head. Something about her made Oberyn not like lady Rhea too much. He felt that Melara was uncomfortable around her family and he ruminated if that was a reason for her to be so closed. He wanted to give her the gift he bought for her but that moment just felt inappropriate. 

“No need to thank, my lords,” Queen Rhaella said in curtsy. “Now that everything is in order, I need to excuse myself, farewell, my lords, my ladies,” She said with a gentle smile, leaving as the Septas had arrived to escort her. Oberyn found queer the fact she would be always escorted by them and noticed the eminent melancholy in her eyes. Everyone bowed at her before she would leave and Rhaegar, Elia, the Hightowers and his mother remained at that garden. Rhaegar watched everything as quiet as Melara, he seemed to be an observer, just as his bride-to-be was. 

“Prince Oberyn.” Rhaegar finally said.

“Prince Rhaegar.” He replied. 

“I am glad you are back to the Red Keep safely. Thanks to our Kingsguard,” That triggered something inside of Oberyn, noticing some petulancy in Rhaegar’s voice tone. 

“I am afraid I can survive quite well without a Kingsguard, my Prince.” Oberyn replied.

“Of course you can,” He replied, making it obvious. “But for now, I believe I must entertain my beloved wife.” Rhaegar emphasised the fact Elia was his now, marking his territory. 

“Take good care of my sister.” He said, cautiously caressing his dagger while looking at the silver prince. Elia approached him once more and hugged him, not caring about his smell or dirty clothes.

“I wish we could spend more time together.” Elia said, giving a reassuring look to her sibling. “I wish it too. But now you must go with your husband and enjoy your time. Perhaps keep trying for your heir” He whispered the last part and the two Martells laughed together. “Go, sister.” He pleaded with a strange anxiety and sadness of watching her leave with her husband after paying her farewells to the rest of the people in that garden. Oberyn could only stick with what was left for him now.

Oberyn walked towards his betrothed and bowed in front of her. “My lady,” And he kissed her hands gently. Any woman in her instead would be melting to the warmth of his lips brushing against the skin of her hands, she endured calm and expressionless. 

“My prince.” Melara replied, plainly.

“You and your family deserve my apologies.” He started. “I dishonoured you, I am aware of it. But I want to make amends, so allow me to have a moment with you, just you and I having supper tonight. I have a surprise for you.”

He thought Melara would express any happy face. Instead, he received a worried expression and a clumsy lip biting. “Of course, my prince. I shall have supper with you. Your well being makes me happy.” She replied, apathetically. Her lack of emotions was a huge bothersome to Oberyn.

Oberyn smiled and caressed her face gently and soon after faced Leyton and Rhea. “My lord, my lady, I truly hope you apologise for my behaviour.”

“We trust your honour, Your Highness. A wedding was promised, and a wedding we shall receive.” Leyton said, solemnly. Oberyn’s lips pouted. 

“I never break an oath, Lord Leyton. Especially when it comes to wed a lady who is to be my princess and not run away from it.” The prince would not let them get away with it, not even when it was Oberyn who put the ideas of running away on Lady Lynesse’s mind. Ysilla narrowed her eyes from afar.

Leyton and Rhea approached Oberyn. “We were concerned with you, Prince Oberyn. But we trusted your bravery and we are in full joy that you are safe.” Rhea replied. “Melara will be more than happy to have supper with you.” Leyton looked at his daughter, who only agreed in silence and lowered her head. Her passivity was extremely uncomfortable, Oberyn could see clearly that lady Melara was displeased with all the situation. 

“You are right, lady Rhea,” Ysilla said. “Oberyn is a fierce man, but he is willing to be devoted to your lady daughter. I know my son more than well.” She defended him. Ysilla could have all the struggle to tame Oberyn, but he knew that no one would dare to try insulting him or her house, by extent. That was one of the traits Oberyn loved the most about his mother: she was the bravest and smartest of the women. Growing up, watching her and Father ruling was his favourite moment, his most endearing memories of childhood. 

“It is a shame we barely had time to spend time here. Everything happened so quickly!” Rhea exclaimed, gracefully joining her hands and smiling. Suddenly, the subject changed and the two women started talking joyfully. He glanced at Melara, quietly heard everything the two older women had to say, paid his goodbyes and left for his chambers. Ysilla looked at her son discreetly and winked at him, with a smirk before they could leave.

**********

Oberyn took a long bath after the maids prepared it for him. His clothes were properly changed, now wearing an ivory and grey attire with golden suns embroidered. He wanted to see Elia, to spend time with her before supper with Melara, but she was with Rhaegar and he needed to give his sister space to bond with her husband. In nearly a month he would be married. He would be lying if he did not say he would be scared. However, fear was like wildfire consuming and exploding all the right triggers inside of him to discover new things and face whatever was destined to his future. His mind was convinced that Melara was a wolf in a lamb skin, hiding her game under the cloak of her innocence, enticing and teasing his mind with the thoughts of undressing her, bedding her, taking her maidenhood - if existent. His head denied the idea of someone so absent of feelings of pleasure at a breaking point of taking a vow of poverty, especially being this someone as rich as their overlords, who grew up covered in gold, expensive dresses and the most sophisticated of food. 

Someone knocked on his door. “Prince Oberyn.” It was her. Oberyn decided he would not let his sadness consume him, he would leave it for the days Elia would no longer be around in Dorne, because once he turned sad, he grew angry and Melara deserved no rage from him so far. He opened the door and saw her, fidgeting her fingers and looking intensely into his eyes after slightly curving her upper body in curtsy. Oberyn found her to be celestially beautiful in that dress. Its fabric consisted mostly of a yellow velvet with no volume on its skirt, a golden vest with an orange pattern made of silk, so tight her breasts were almost on display, extending to the long and loose sleeves also made of it and a golden belt on her waist. Oberyn’s lips examined her body and smiled in awe. Lady Lynesse could be far more interesting than her lady sister, but in terms of beauty, Oberyn found Melara to be ethereal, there was no denial in it. When he looked at Elia, he looked at the beauty he saw in himself, he saw her as his equal, his true love. Melara was new, mysterious and although tough, it was a challenge he gladly accepted.

The prince caressed her thick, golden curls and passed his fingertips over the soft skin of her jawline. “Lady Melara. I must say you look beautiful in this colour.” 

“Thank you, my prince.” Oberyn noticed she carried a book in her hands and he looked intrigued at it.

“Please, come inside.” He invited, and Melara got into his room, carefully carrying the book whilst walking alongside him. “I see you carry a book with you.”

Melara stopped in front of him and showed the book cover. It was old, but well cared. “It is a gift,” She started, quietly. “The history of your ancestor, Princess Nymeria. It comes from the Citadel and it is a relic, I want you to have it.” 

Oberyn looked stunned at the book he held. The book was very antique, yellowed pages due to the time it was published and certainly something rare, since it was probably hidden in the Citadel. A true treasure.

“I have no words to thank you, Lady Melara. I must admit that my present compared to yours seems to be dull, simple and unworthy.” He replied, getting the small velvet bag, showing her the set of jewellery.  

“Valyrian steel.” She said, caressing the necklace slowly. “Thank you, my prince.”

“I see you have a good eye for it.” He said, with a small grin. “Turn around,” He commanded gently and so she did, allowing him to come closer and lean his breath close to her neck, which made her skin go goose. He involved her throat in the icy metal, bringing another element to her beauty. A piece of him encrusted on her. Oberyn also put the earrings on her ears, even if it went invisible in the immensity of her golden cascades of hair.

“I will cherish this gift for life, Prince Oberyn.” She replied, turning around and facing him once more. The prince caressed her chin and slightly caressed the skin of her collarbones, making her eyes close for a while. That filled his heart with the possibility of tasting her maidenhood a bit earlier than expected.

“And I will cherish mine. It will be in our private chambers and I will expect to read it as soon as possible with you. Is that acceptable?” Melara nodded her head and turned her gaze to the table in silence.

Oberyn walked towards the table and served two cups of wine, delivering one for her and one for him. “Drink with me.” Melara nodded and took the cup to drink the liquid slowly. A silence reigned between them, but Oberyn already realised he would have to make the effort to make her speak. 

“Do you drink wine regularly?” He asked and Melara shook her head.

“My father only allows me and my sisters to drink one cup in festivities. My step mother says it is unladylike to drink too much wine.” She replied, walking with him to the table.

“You belong to me now, you can have as much wine as you desire.” He replied, expecting at least a smile. Nothing happened, she just nodded and accepted while the maids served their dinner. Oberyn felt a grieving energy surrounding her, perhaps for the life she lost and the new prospects she received. He questioned himself if the youngest Hightower actually wanted to stay serving as a Septa, since she seemed so sad around him. Silence reigned around them once more and it was discomforting, suffocating for Oberyn. 

“Do I displease you?” He asked, bluntly. Her eyes lit up to face him and confusion was placed on her face while she looked for the right words.

“You do not.” She replied, after swallowing a piece of her food.

“I told you once, and I will repeat myself. Do not lie to me.” He replied, sternly. Oberyn expected her to at least be scared of him, but she did not hide her face and kept staring at him.

“I speak the truth.” Melara replied.

“Then why do you do so little to show interest in this marriage?”

Melara lowered her head and had no response. “Tell me the truth, my lady. Do you even wish to be here? Do you have a lover you had to leave behind once you were to wed me?”

“Just as you said to me, we are tied to each other, my prince. I understand how… displeasing I can be with my odd behaviour, but I wish to be submissive and try my best to be a fit lady for your household.” Oberyn furrowed his brows, curious about the ‘submissive’ deal.

“So you agree on the supposed role a woman has in a household?” He asked and she agreed in silence. “Use your words.” He demanded.

“Yes.” He wanted to push her to the edge. It was impossible for him for someone to be so shaped to serve and conform with anything.

“So if I take a paramour, will you accept it?” 

She lowered her head and accepted. “Yes.” 

“You know I have two daughters, I imagine. I hope you raise them alongside me and our children.” No reaction came from her face, except for a nodding while both ate their foods. 

“If this is what you wish, then I shall raise them. But not amongst our trueborn.” His eyebrows raised.

“Do you see any difference between trueborns and bastards?” Oberyn asked, looking for a way to access any other emotion on Melara.

“You see no difference in them?” She asked back, exposing the obvious truth in her statement. 

“Bastards are born from passion, trueborn from duty.”

“Duty is what keeps us in line.” Oberyn noticed how eloquent she was with her words. 

“You have a fair point, my lady.” And with a small line, Melara let Oberyn with no words to reply back. He had to admit it was impressive for a lady said to be a socially abnormal woman. They ate in silence until their meal and dessert was finished. Oberyn noticed how her chest was swollen in that dress and he stared at them for two or three times, imagining how they would look like with nothing to cover them. Her short responses made her even more attractive, mysterious.  He couldn’t take it anymore.

His hand reached hers over the table.“You have no idea of how much I have been yearning to touch you since you arrived in my bedchambers.” Melara blushed and tried to take her hand off his, but he held faster. “You look so beautiful in this dress,” He stood up and gently took her by the hand, making her stand up as well.

“Thank you, my prince.” She said, lowering her eyes, but he quickly raised it by her chin.

“Look at me,” Oberyn demanded, looking deeply at her in a dangerous distance. His grip went straight to her waist, bringing her closer and she nervously faced him. “You smell like fresh roses.” He coos, she sighed heavily. “Do you wish to kiss me again?” He teased the lady. He finally was taking her to the edge. 

Their noses rubbed against each other. Silently, their lips brushed and a kiss began. Her hands involved his neck and his arms were around her waist, squeezing her delicately. Once the kiss was broken apart, he smirked once more, facing her anxious expression. 

“You taste so sweetly.” Oberyn kissed her cheek, gently. She closed her eyes, feeling the sensation of his body so close to hers. His hands reached her breasts over the thick fabric of the velvet and he could hear the sigh she released once he touched her more intimately.

“Do you feel aroused, my future princess?” He asked, trying to tease her. Her eyes were burning desire, no matter how hard she tried to hide. “Use your words. Just say yes or no.”

“Y-yes.” Melara muttered, which made his smile grow largely playful. 

He sat back on the chair. “Sit here.” Oberyn commanded, tapping his lap for her to sit. Melara swallowed her own spit. “Don’t fret, I just want to ease your tension.” The salty prince pulled her to his lap, making her arse rub against his groin. “I am not a religious man, but I know for a fact that the Gods have a blind spot for a girl’s maidenhood.”

Naively, Melara looked at him. “What is it?” Over her dress, Oberyn’s hand reached between her thighs, which made her moan softly. That sweet sound went straight to his cock, already hard inside his trousers.

“Open your legs for me.” He asked, whispering in her ear. She obeyed and the prince lifted her dress, touching her intimacy over the thin fabric of her underwear. Her ashamed moans whilst he made circular moves over her clit were driving him crazy. “Has anyone touched you this way, my lady?”

Melara shook her head. “N-never.” Oberyn kissed her neck and with his free hand, he put his cock out of his pants, displaying how hard it was. The Hightower seemed anxious and aroused, so Oberyn led her hand to touch it, guiding her on what she should do. His own hand kept moving on her clit over her under trousers, making her body squirm on his lap and low groans leave her mouth, while she kept touching him. 

“You are so wet, my lady. I can feel it over the cloth.” His words made her blush even more and Melara tried to close her legs, but Oberyn opened it again. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing, my lady.” He quickly said. “Tell me how it feels, my lady.”

“I feel it t-tingling.” She replied, bouncing her hips to feel more of his moves.

“Is it a good feeling?”

“Y-yes.” Melara was ashamed, but the arousal was bigger than any other sensation at the moment.

“Good.” He replied, also groaning while her hands massaged his cock.

Oberyn grabbed her by the waist and flipped her body so she could face him, making her sit with her cunt press against his thigh. A loud moan came from her lips, but she covered it immediately. “Do not hide those moans from me.” He ordered, controlling the moves she was doing on her thigh, riding him eagerly.

Her hand stroking his cock increased its pace, making Oberyn pant while she looked in his eyes. Her breathing got irregular and he felt her legs quivering. “W-what I… what is happening?” she asked, confused and Oberyn laughed with her innocence. 

“We are close.” He replied simply, panting. Melara’s face turned confused.

She could not understand why she couldn’t breathe properly and the pleasure increased in a ridiculous amount. That made her whole body shake and her upper body arch back, making her release a scream out of her final pleasure, provoking Oberyn to release his seed on her hand. She was shaking and numb on his lap, leaning her head on his shoulder and Oberyn breathed heavily, smiling and patting her back. 

“We climaxed, my lady.” He murmured and her face was burning red, unease and angst came back to her face once more. Melara saw the white liquid all over her face and took her hands off his cock and stood up, fixing her dress quickly. She could not bear looking into his eyes with embarrassment. 

Oberyn stood up and looked at her, cupping her face. "You did nothing wrong, my lady. The Gods are merciful and as you heard from their septons and faith, marriage is supposed to bring happiness to each of the partners."

“But we are not married yet.” Melara replied, trying to step away from him.

“But we will.” Oberyn replied, brushing her hair. 

“This is why the Gods will punish me! I should not enjoy this kind of thing you did to me!” Melara looked exasperated and Oberyn took a deep breath, fixing his trousers and standing up, handing her a handkerchief to clean her hands.

"Why would the Gods create a body that can feel pleasure and not meant to enjoy it?" Oberyn tried to argue with his bride-to-be, watching her cleaning her hand.

“This is wrong, this is wrong…” Melara walked impatiently from one side to the other. Oberyn felt bad to put her over this turmoil and tried to approach her.

“Look at me.” He said, making her stop walking. “You are still a maiden, remember? What we did was to ease your tension my lady. You will not be punished, do you understand?” Oberyn cupped her face once more and looked into her eyes. Melara nodded her head and shed some tears and strangely, Oberyn felt some sort of proud for taking any other reaction from her besides apathy. 

“Good.” He replied, smiling. His hands gently caressed her hips. “A secret that not even the Gods will know.”

“Not even the Gods will know.” She replied, muttering at Oberyn.

Oberyn kissed her lips once more and embraced his betrothed, while she silently cried with guilt. Her mask fell, but no wolf howled at his face, a true lamb she was. Her reaction was odd and a bit annoying, but he did not want her to feel more guilty for something he provoked on her. Still, it felt like it was a small victory with Melara. The wedding prospect was showing to be much more challenging than it seemed to be, but a light on his head made him feel eager to take all her innocence during this marriage.

#asoiaf fanfiction #fanfic asoiaf #ao3 #game of thrones fanfiction #martell #a song of ice and fire #house hightower #oberyn martell fanfiction #oberyn martell #oberyn martell x ofc #holy and heathen #house martell #elia martell #dorne #prince oberyn

[vamppeach]

Ok I was already planning on sending you an ask saying "sell me on eah bc I already like mh and fashion dolls but generally am not that interested in Disney adjacent things but me and my student watched 2/3 of a YouTube video clip of it today and I am mildly intrigued" but then I saw your meme that's like "please ask me about eah" so now I Have to ask you about it

AASSAASBAHHAS AHIIIIIIII BADGER HIIIII I'LL TELL YOU ABOUT EVER AFTER HIGH AUDIFGAWDWH. i'm just going to focus on what intrigues me personally about ever after high and hope you can parse my ramblings i just have so many thoughts about eah. head full.

the basic premise of eah is the children of fairytale characters attending a high school where they learn how to fulfill their fairytale capital D Destinies, where their parents attended before them, and their parents' parents, and so on -- culminating in a coming-of-age ceremony where they sign the Storybook of Legends and pledge to follow in their parents' footsteps. Just, an entire society BUILT on the FOUNDATIONAL PRINCIPAL that we follow in our parents' footsteps and we know EXACTLY the path our lives will take from THE MOMENT WE ARE BORN. like HELLO??? Imagine you are the daughter of Sleeping Beauty. You live your life knowing someday, without warning, you will fall into a 100-year sleep and when you wake up everyone you know and love will be GONE they will be DUST and you won't even get to say GOODBYE and you KNOW this from the moment you make your first friend!! THATS SO!!!! eah doesn't delve TOO hard into the fridge horror of their setting but they don't ignore it either. knowing that she will someday sleep for a hundred years is foundational to briar beauty's characterization and you can see it in everything she does it's fuckin. bro. what. christ.

or imagine you are Cinderella, and you have your first daughter, and you know from the moment you hold her in your arms that someday in the near future you are going to die. and your death will doom your daughter to a childhood of abuse and servitude. what the fuck.

anyway the story kicks off when Raven Queen, daughter of the Evil Queen, refuses to sign the storybook because hey actually she doesn't WANT to be evil and poison her bestie Apple White (daughter of snow white) and this shakes the entire school. Apple White is so MAD at Raven for refusing to sign but she's not really mad. she's terrified. Apple's future was so CERTAIN and she knew that so long as she did exactly as she was told for the rest of her life, she would have a happy ending. obey the status quo and she'd be FINE.

Raven refusing to sign the book creates a kind of schism in the school: Royals -- those who benefit from the status quo and don't want to change it; and Rebels -- those who agree with Raven and want to change their stories, or simply don't want to sign the book.

personally this whole premise speaks to me as a kid who grew up non-cishet in a cishet culture. like. you begin life with the foregone conclusion of future heterosexual bliss (even if Daring Charming basically uninteresting to you and you don't have anything in common and you're more like acquaintances but yeah you're gonna get married someday obviously!). then something comes into your life that shows you WAIT BEING GAY IS AN OPTION? and for some people that's relief (like for raven) but for you that's terrifying because now there are OPTIONS. also later on in the story, it's revealed that even some of the adults in the story have been bucking their Destinies for years but ONLY BEHIND CLOSED DOORS BECAUSE WE HAVE TO MAINTAIN THE STATUS QUO NO ONE CAN KNOW WE ARE GAY CHANGING OUR STORIES. i think this could also speak to growing up neurodiverse in a world built for neurotypicals but i haven't lived as much of that experience so i leave that for you to go insane over in your own time.

i think ever after high is also neat as like. a very self-aware look about the cultural DNA present in the stories we as a society tell and re-tell and how those stories kind of shift with the times but the DNA remains? it's baked into the setting! Snow White and Apple White don't fulfill the story of Snow White in precisely the same way but they both fulfill the important story beats. how far can you push that basic story until it's unrecognizable as Snow White? pretty far it turns out! because it's in our literary DNA!

in addition to the fairytale characters, there are also children of alice in wonderland characters, and they attend the school but they are, in-canon, distinctly culturally separate from the rest of the cast and i think that's neat. Raven Queen is best friends with the daughter of the Mad Hatter (probs my fav character she is soooo. audhd. daughter) & she is literally the outside perspective which is neat. also she can hear the story's narrator (who is ALSO a character). no one else can. just her.

finally, it's just like, a really charming show, not too heavy and still engaging? like, all those themes are 1000% there and you don't need to dig very hard at all, but it's equally enjoyable as like. a show designed to sell toys. kind of like mlp: fim? it's a show meant to sell toys but the themes are meaningful, it was clearly written with so much care. and also it's a show for kids, so it's never gonna be too intense.

anyway. it's a story about refusing the status quo. it's a show to sell toys. it's about not wanting to become your parents. it's about gay people. there are even cute dresses.

#I'M SOOOOO NORMAL I'M SO NORMAL #ever after high #eah

[radioactivecatboy]

was tagged by @princess-of-purple-prose to list five songs i actually listen to and tag ten mutuals. WAOG A CHANCE TO TALK ABT MUSIC THANKS KAY SURELY I WILL BE SO SO FUCKING NORMAL ABT THIS (no caps: woag a chance to talk abt music thanks kay surely i will be so so fucking normal abt this)

Hell’s Comin’ With Me by Poor Man’s Poison. this is one of my songs ever tbh. the depressing slow start that sounds like its going to be a normal depressing country song, but suddenly ramps up in fury and pace into something almost joyful in its violence. as soon as i hear the sharp cords to prep “there is a hill at the bottom of the valley” i am full screaming the lyrics. “i paid the devil twice as much to keep your soul” mph. chefs kiss. delicious. also its about killing a corrupt priest which i hoot and holler and bang the table for

the jester by ratz. hi ratz if you have any reason to see this post for whatever reason though i cannot imagine why. i love ur music. esp this song. i vibrate slightly when it plays. vocals outta this world. anyway. the parallel between the lyrics “Oh, I know / It’s a dangerous game i play with my soul / I know / It’s a dangerous game / But my self preservation is tepid at best” and “He knows / It’s a dangerous game he plays with his soul / I know / It’s a dangerous game / My morality is shaky at best” is so !!!!!!!! for me

Santa Fe by Autoheart. “and when i saw you i should have kept on going but i couldnt move the gods of justice spoke and i got what i deserve and when you saw me your hand became an angry fist i agree with everything that’s coming my way but forgive me if you can” oooooooo BABY i love angst i love self recrimination i love the knowledge you fucked up so bad and you have no way to protest that you Don’t deserve the pain the other party might choose to inflict back on you. Punch (Special Edition) is one of my favorite albums ever genuinely banger after banger

Pray by The Amazing Devil. oh man i LOVE this band i dont think theres a single damn song by them i don’t like or even feel ambivalent about but Pray is one that makes me want to start sprinting through the streets screaming my heart out. i can’t even give you some favorite lyrics from it bc everything feeds into everything else it’s so visceral and evocative of a desperation and determination and frustration and the thrum of something trapped inside you desperate for freedom. madeleine hyland fucking ROCKED it so hard. ma’am i am so in love with you. please listen to this song fr

The Hand That Feeds by The Crane Wives. another song by one of my bands ever. it’s been consistently at or near the top of my spotify most played artists for years u should check them out. this is truly a song of all time, it makes me feel the need to break capitalism’s spine over my knee, throw its corpse on a bonfire, and dance around the flames. the narrator is soooooo fucking bitter and determined to keep their autonomy and soul in a society where money is impossible to live without and nearly impossible to get without being treated cruelly and dehumanized for. “no man should get more of my time than me, than me, i may never be a rich man but i can make sure that i am free. the rich man can never have me” literally songs to gnaw your arm off to

so that was music corner with jellyfish thanks for tagging me kay ily <33 uhh i’ll go ahead and tag @gnomebud @whale-blanket @angelslant @tjuvmon @freijan @ragefear @frogliftcertified and anyone else who might want to just say i tagged u and go wild <33

#jellyfish txt #tag game #agonizing to only choose five songs do you know much i love music?

[dorianeverleigh]

I will never get over the fact that we, the human race, collectively chose this path of destruction.

We have known for a very long time that our way of life is detrimental to the one and only habitable planet in our peripheral. We know we can't just move to Mars or Enceladus as much as low IQ billionaires try to make it a reality. But the human race said "Fuck it, tonight we ride! We're here for a good time, not for a long time!" And now we are careening toward absolute total annihilation. All it would have taken was a little bit of change. But sustainability is not profitable. Green energy is not profitable. We could be living in a much better world, with a much brighter future, if we just stopped allowing capitalism to dictate our lives. We knew coal and oil were fucking things up. We knew what to do about it. We knew the best path forward, but we chose profits instead of future.

Imagine if all of the idiot wealth hoarders in the world were using the piles of money to create a brighter more sustainable future instead of buying a mini yacht to carry their helicopter next to their super yacht. Or instead of burning money trying to play irl space invaders and colonize Mars (because there's nothing left to colonize on our own dying planet); we could focus on saving our own planet. But no, let's shoot a car into the orbit just for funsies.

The alarm bells have been at full blast for so long, and the global "political" efforts to combat the effects of our dying planet have all been lies (as per usual) and now the scientific consensus is that it's too late. And it fucking sucks. I know that people as a whole are good. I know that compassion and empathy are more common than not. Even though the most rotten people in this world are the loudest, overall I do believe humans are good. But I also know we are sheep. We are followers and we need guidance. But don't be fooled! Just because someone speaks loudly, articulates properly, and displays confidence, does NOT mean they are right, moral, or just. And just because someone is in a position of authority does not mean they have your best interest in mind. And, I cannot stress this enough, being wealthy ONLY proves you know how to obtain wealth. Wealth does not equate to intelligence. Wealth does not mean you're an expert. And wealth definitely does not mean you're a good person. (Quite the opposite actually.)

My only advice is to just stop paying the billionaires and millionaires as much as possible. Shop local. Eat vegan (if you can). Buy an electric car (or no car at all). DIY and up cycle every chance you get. Reduce waste. If we stop feeding the machine it will die. Understand this though, it's not on us. Sure we've been roped into this terrible cycle of murdering our own planet, but most often we don't have an alternative. Remember when your grocery store shames you for not bringing a reusable bag it was THEM flooding the world with single use plastic. Or if coca-cola tries to make you feel shitty for not recycling, it's THEM producing the abundance of waste. Remember that Shell and Exxon are poisoning the oceans, not your little jalopy carting your back and forth from work. So yes, while each of us can do our part, it's better to spend your energy taking down the rich people who created this mess in the first place. Eat the rich!

#climate change #politics #capitalism #eat the rich #billionaires #millionaires #elon musk #jeff bezos #sustainability #clean energy

[annamadsen]

Disillusionment

I'm an artist. Not a capitalist.

. . . so I'm slowly stepping away from IG.

Between reels, social media politics, echo chambers, following trends just to stay "relevant" and flagrant plagiarism of my work from other "artists" with massive followings - I just fucking can't deal with it anymore.

I got into photography for a myriad of reasons - money was not one of them. The modern art space has been corrupted with toxicity and greed. Gone are the days where talent got you anywhere.

In fact, many people might be angry with me for saying this, but more often than not, the very successful "photographers" on IG aren't artists in the traditional sense at all - they just knew how to play the game of social media. While the app provides great opportunities for entrepreneurial spirited people, the IG business incentives of profit and popularity over quality of content and respect for the actual craft of one's medium, has created a hostile and frustrating space for art.

Even when finding success on IG, I was still fucking unhappy because of all the aforementioned reasons above.

Essentially, IG and being an artist in a society that expects me to turn my talents into profit, has burnt me out. When your numbers matter more than your actual artistic voice, it's completely demotivating. Capitalism has made my relationship with art complicated (demoralizing even) and I'm done.

The veil has been lifted and I've grown out of it.

I just want to create. That's it.

If you found me here, I'm happy you did. Maybe my art will inspire you or maybe you already like what I do. You're welcome here. ALL are welcome here. This space is everything from irreverence to personal. There's no plan.

As for my big ol dreams, maybe someday I'll photograph someone famous. Maybe one of my photographs will be cited as iconic. Perhaps one day I'll make a book. If it's meant for me, it will happen. I'm not poisoning my life with the endless hustle anymore. I've thrown my hands up in the air and I'm handing it over to the universe. Whatever will be will be.

I'm going to be an artist. Post what I want when I want. Create when I'm feeling it. The end.

Enjoy my art as it was meant to be viewed - stories from my imagination, an extension of myself or how I view the world.

a.m.

[shyfrog-hblog]

Tiamat takes human form as five separate women in the aristocracy, using predatory business practices and exploitation typical of the aristocracy to amass a modern cult: a colossal workforce, a private army to control the workforce and protect their interest.

For those who don't know, Tiamat (the D&D character, not the primordial sea goddess) is a colossal five-headed dragon god who is also the god of all chromatic dragons.

She is generally depicted as evil, but this may be because all chromatic dragons were depicted as evil, and since a lot of people realized that is Suspicious At Best (looking at you, WotC), I like to think Tiamat is more likely misunderstood.

That having been said, evil women are hot as fuck, so she's evil in this vision of mine. Or they are, depending on how you perceive Tiamat in her multiple human forms.

Each individual human would represent one of her heads: black, white, blue, green, and red. Usually, the distinctions are pretty basic, black spits acid, white breathes cold, green breathes poison, blue spits lightning, and red breaths fire. But that's boring, so let's also give each of them distinct skills, interests, drives, and focuses.

Let's start with the leader: Red. Flashy, creative, charismatic, and oftentimes, needlessly cruel. She gets others to do the work for her, but what she lacks in patience she makes up for in competence. If her lackeys take too long or screw up even once, she'll dispose of them and defer to the classic wisdom, "If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself." Extremely dominant, not so much as a submissive bone in her body, and anyone with sense will notice this about her instantaneously.

Now from left to right: Black. Excitable, strong, protective, but dull. She has the ambition and drive of a leader but lacks the imagination, so she oftentimes defers to Red for more complicated matters. Still, she is as powerful as the rest - or so her sisters tell her - and she will take any opportunity to prove it. Although, she is frequently unsure who she is trying to prove it to. Relatively submissive, but only amongst her sisters.

Green. Sly, clever, careful, and always a step ahead. She is powerful, but she takes great pleasure in outmaneuvering and outsmarting her enemies (Targets? Cattle? Prey?), which she is known to do with great ease. If she has her way, she can turn even the most opposed enemy into a devout following, but she is not opposed to simply watching them choke on their own blood in her caustic green mist. She is dominant, but quietly.

Blue. Brazen, resourceful, and a little bit pompous. Arguably the biggest ego, second only to Red. She loves nothing more than watching her riches and power grow and grow and grow. She revels in the prospect of being a god with devoted worshippers throwing their heirlooms and valueables upon her hoard, and the idea that those same followers are willing to set out upon the land brandishing swords and pillaging the weak, forcing more under her rule. She was the one who wanted to start using the capitalized She and Her. Blatantly dominant, and willing to praise particularly committed servants for their efforts.

Last but not least, White. Brutal, vicious, sadistic, intimidating, and persistent. She is the hunter-killer, the warrior, and the general. If she could rule over an entire world of frozen corpses of her own making, she gladly would, but her sisters have desires of their own that need life in order for them to be enjoyable. Still, she takes great pleasure in death whenever and wherever she can find it - demanding sacrifices from her followers, leveling villages the second they don't submit, anything. The only thing she sometimes believes she may love more than killing is pain. Very dominant and very cold.

This is definitely something. A horny something. The Goddess, the Bully, the Dominatrix, the Queen, and the One Who Doesn't Participate In Aftercare (aka the Sadist). Could be a "none of them care about you but they'll fuck you if you're not just a regular mortal" kinda thing.

Or fuck it, I see a whole ass dating sim. Love these bitches. Probably gonna talk about them more.

#n s f t

[gayward-son]

GO Season 2 Episodes 2 and 3 Thoughts

Spoilers under the cut! Apologies for the disorganization this is purely stream of consious fresh out of watching

YESSSSS flashback! Tbh I originally thought that the minisodes set in the past were going to be more of a time-traveling plot than flashbacks based on how they were described in interviews, but I think this makes more sense because introducing time travel in any series usually just leads to more questions lol

The Book of Job minisode KILLED me. 1) I guess I was wrong about them not remembering meeting as angels, though I wonder then did they ever interact more than that one time millions of years ago? if so, I guess their meeting at the garden of Eden was more of a reintroduction as angel and demon rather than as both angels, though i'm really really curious then what Crowley's name was before he became a demon, because otherwise Aziraphale wouldn't have not known what to call him at the garden of Eden. Anyway, the angst of them remembering when Crowley was an angel is just jdskdjsaklfaj fanfic that explores that was always my favorite so this just HURT

2) Gabriel not understanding childbirth is hilarous considering the fact that he's the angel who tells Mary about her pregnancy. i imagine him appearing to her like, "Good news Mary! You're going to have a child! Now go to Joseph and grab his rib :)" and then when she actually gives birth he can only stare and say wot the fukkk.

3) Aziraphale believing he was damned for hell was just heartbreaking to see my poor little meow meow :( idk if it's just cuz i love him so much, but I feel like Aziraphale's been more of the focus this season so far, with the episodes exploring how he started diverging from the rest of the angels while Crowley just kinda serves as the temptation and driving force for Aziraphale's development. I wonder if the later episodes will return to Crowley's whole existential dread of "what's the point," or if that will be more in the possible 3rd season

4) Aziraphale eating for the first time. Incredible moment. No notes.

I totally forgot that the miracle was meant to keep the angels and demons from noticing Gabriel and thought that they were literally seeing him and just intimadating Aziraphale lol but I do wonder how their miracle was so powerful when they were barely trying? I guess the science behind miracles doesn't really exist and Aziraphale and Crowley are not exactly the brightest with their plans but somehow i'm still surprised that they could fuck up this badly

The second minisode honestly wasn't as exciting for me, morality not really exisiting under capitalism is a decent topic to explore, but i dont know, it felt a bit out of place? i couldn't really see how the flashback helped with the mystery other than giving some history about The Resurectionist, though hopefully more context is revealed in future episodes. Also i have no idea what the hell Crowley was doing at the end of it with all his shouting and growing and shrinking, I understand it was the poison but again just felt out of place (that was how i felt about the plant scene in season 1, and now i love that scene, so my opinion could change)

Aziraphale driving the Bentley! He was so silly billy when he was excited to play detective I love him. Also Crowley taking care of the bookshop, making sure not to sell any of Aziraphale's books, and worrying for Aziraphale's safety <33 they need to stop being so LOUD.

Muriel on earth! Third episode, not second like I thought, and they were so adorable!! Aziraphale's sarcasm when talking to her was so good too, and we got the Crowley sitting on the chair scene lets go gamerss

Maggie and Nina and Maggie and Nina ahhhhhh. I do wonder how they're going to resolve the fact that Nina already has a partner but I guess ill have to wait and see. The moment of them under the awning was so cute and WHEN MAGGIE SAID "YOU HAVE NO IDEA" asjalfafkfs the gay angst the gay yearning i cant

Also love how theatrical Shax is with her entrances she's clearly having fun with it, wonder if she'll take Crowley's side or hell's if that war happens since she seems to have a bit of an understanding with him. Also Beezlebub getting some exploration into their character was not something i was expecting, wonder what will come of that

One last thing: my mom loved the statue of Gabriel. Lost her shit every time she saw it. Whoever designed it, great job

#good omens spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #go2e2 #go2e3 #go2 spoilers #intellectual monologue #not c*rry on

[agreatdepth]

Ableism: this is my final post.

After today, I am done giving this any fucking thought. I need to address this a final time because BULLYING DISABLED PEOPLE IS NOT FUCKING OK.

It's funny to me that a person who talks openly about the systems in the US failing us, isn't cognizant of this same system failing other groups of people.

These are the words {in quotes} from the mouth of a former acquaintance of mine, to me. I was {still am} severely disabled and was unable to work for a year, and voiced my concern about not being able to find affordable health insurance in a state without medicaid.I also told her I couldn’t relate to her anymore at all, which was true.

 Her words don’t lie. She can go on and on about how everyone is against her {narcs, you know, all of us } but just read her words and you will know who the bully really is. She puts on a public act pretending to be an advocate for mental health. I’m sure she is...as long as it’s her own mental health only and no one else’s. Privately, she calls me lazy and entitled, and publicly she’s all warm and fuzzy advocate for mental illness and mental health. Could of fooled me.

Most privileged people should really shut the fuck up when it comes to “advice” giving of disabled people:

A sample of her ableist, condescending, abusive comments:

“Dumb and entitled”

“People work hard for the privileges they earn. Maybe do that?”

“Imagine being born in a place with endless opportunities and not realizing it“

“I'm tired of people whining and whinging and doing NOTHING to improve their situation except acting entitled for it to be better.“

“It's pretty entitled to think you and you alone should just get cheap healthcare in a nation without anything.“

“I'm not sure why people start to believe they deserve what others have worked their asses off for, but I bet it starts with entitlement and privilege.“

“GROW UP.“

“Some people go around looking for reasons why they can’t and why they are too special to do what everyone else has to do to survive, like work a full-time job with health insurance.“

“You glorify your trauma and use it as a cudgel to get out of things that are caused by your belief that you get to do whatever you want without natural consequences.“

“It reminds me of that fabulous film out of Korea, Parasite.“

“ YOU ARE NOT SPECIAL IN TRAUMA. “

“Emotional vampires think they have more pain than everyone else. GROW UP!“

“ The point is, when your life isn’t going well, you don’t lash out at people with good lives.”

“Die Alone.“

“I hate capitalism because of exploitation and overvaluing of certain labor over others. She hates it because she doesn't want to work.”

“Lazy entitled projector.”

To sum it up: Disgusting. Lie in your own poison. I hope you do some much needed work on yourself, and some reflections on just how disgusting these comments really are and would be to anyone going through trauma recovery and disability. You are no advocate for mental health. You are a fraud.

P.S....Before and after I was almost killed in my home in 2016, I saw therapists and mental health professionals starting in 2014, when my ex boyfriend was threatening to harm me physically. After the assault, I saw 4 therapists, and had an intensive outpatient therapist(s) complete with tests. Not one mental health professional told me I had NPD. PTSD, yes. NPD, no. No one has ever told me that in my fucking life except the armchair psychiatrist that wrote the ableist as fuck comments above to me last December when I was really ill with PTSD. So, fuck her and all her ignorant bullshit.

#abuse #disability #ableism #ableist bullshit #mentalhealth #ptsd #toxic #bullying #disabled #trauma

[thebadchoicemachine]

What if humans are the only ones in control of dreams? Like, not just lucid dreaming, but as an inner consciousness. We’re so aware of it where others barely even do anything considered sleep. We’re the only ones conscious of our subconscious. Our brains take in and filter so much in such an intricate way it’s basically super power magic.

Imagine like. A Freddy krueger type alien or mindflair style being or whatever but they corrupt in what they think is more like a poison. And they go into a human but it’s this whole WHAT THE FUCK weird unreal space and the worst they can do is wake up a human. -

Or some psychic type but it’s constant and generally they just perceive a small bit or another. There’s entire worlds inside these people they’re dragged in and trapped in. A human can force them to think whatever they want.

And then they meet a human who’s just barely able to recognize when they’re dreaming. Not even lucid. Just how you kinda get sometimes when you half control the word by thinking “what if this happened” and then it obviously does.

Not only do we have these worlds inside us. We can have INSANE POWER and even control over them. And then we wake up and barley even remember it like it’s nothing.

What’s more terrifying than a super powerful being? A super powerful being who shrugs off their power as a boring ordinary given.

What can they do when they try? What happens when they start to intentionally train themselves to hone their power? What happens when it becomes official, when their government and military begin capitalizing on it, when the everyday people begin to intentionally use it?

#inverted fantasy #humans are space orcs #humans are awesome #humans are weird #good story ideas #fantasy #sci fi #writing prompts

[arguablysomaya]

not to bother you but do you by any chance have any more batfam fic recs? i read all the ones you recommended already and now im starved for content lmao

np lmao i have prepared for this

Just a friendly kidnapping by @Ceciliedr 

Jason decides drastic measures are in order, when his workaholic little brother refuses to take a day off. Tim is going on vacation whether he wants to or not.

As always the bat’s antics confuse the hell out of the team. Especially since Red Hood is officially a highly dangerous wanted criminal.

cryptid bats are such a good trope 

And the Scene Slips Away (To the Evenness I Fake) by @ Kirazalea

One mistake is all it took to force Jason back into the wonderful world of the Wayne family. Now publicly and legally alive once more, he's forced to spend the next two weeks of his life stuck in the Manor with the whole family. This leads to several strengthened relationships and the realization that maybe he's missed a few things over the years. Things that he's now determined to get to the bottom of.

Also known as the "Tim comes out to his family, the public finds out Jason Todd is actually alive, Jason finds out about Mirage and Tarantula, and they all are confronted with the fact that dealing with public relations as millionaire superheroes is actually The Worst (though not necessarily in that order)" Frankenstein of a fic that nobody asked for but I'm giving you anyways

*insert crying noises* this bad boy can fit so much emotion in it

American Ninja Worrier by @DangerBeckett

It's just like Tim to give a poor college student a start in the business world. Kid's a bleeding heart, and usually, that's the sort of thing Jason avoids at all costs. He prefers his bleeding hearts on the literal side, and despite Bruce's best efforts, he's never had a head for business.

Unfortunately, though, this time the business is ninjas, and that's the sort of thing that makes Jason take notice. Because Bruce is useless, and someone's gotta make sure Tim's new internship program doesn't take down all of Gotham.

That's Jason's job, after all.

most accurate tim drake i’ve ever read, added bonus of being fucking hilarious

the art of turning a bed into a home by @ anaksemuabangsa 

“We’ll feel better if we sleep in the same place,” Dick reasons, shifting the blankets and piling them on top of a stiff Tim. “When I was smaller, every time Bruce caught me having a nightmare, he used to stay with me until I fell asleep again,” he continues.

In which Bruce's kids develop a habit fit for princes and princesses.

(Somebody get them to sleep, please.)

the whole good habits series is pog asf but this one is my personal favorite. it’s so fluffy ;-;

“Get out of my room.” by @damthosefandoms

Dick likes to mess with his little brother. Jason enjoys being a little shit to his older brother. Everyone always says they’ll get along when they get older. They’re not so sure about that.

hands down the most realistic sibling relationship i’ve ever seen. fulfills my headcanon that dick and jason are just like me and my little brother. Also check out Older SIblings: A Plague on Our Society by the same author bc LMAO

Young Justice Visit the Suez Canal by @charleswaterloo 

There is an enormous container ship called the Ever Given stuck in the Suez Canal. Young Justice is on the case. During their short adventure, they also: make a massive sand sculpture, enjoy some fanfiction and unblock the Suez Canal. Not in that order. * ‘I am thinking,’ Tim said, with extreme calm, ‘That you have made something that looks like a very large penis when viewed from above.’

‘It’s a dick and balls, yeah.’ Bart said without embarrassment. ‘It’s poetic! I’m ending the journey like it started.’ * ‘Did you -’ Dick began, laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. ‘Did you really tell him to at least “make the shaft bigger”? Bart told Wally and he told me but I have to know if it’s true, Tim. My life depends on it.’

you remember that boat that ended capitalism for like a week? yeah.

contagious by @Valkirin 

In a happier Gotham where Robin insisted on bringing his new brother Jason home from patrol, the second Robin is dosed with Poison Ivy's cuddle pollen and finds their personal photographer.

an alternate take on tim joining the family that is much more happy

Whatever it is that brothers do by @ididloveyou_once

Jason’s fairly certain his evening plans hadn’t included playing nursemaid for a reckless, self-sacrificing and frustratingly stubborn vigilante. Not to mention that said vigilante was his dumb fucking brother.

Or: Nightwing is badly injured and Hood’s the only one around to help.

*melty noises* they care about each other...........

Way Down, Hadestown

In which Damian's dead and Tim has lost one too many people to accept that.

Platonic Orpheus-Eurydice not-AU set after Damian's canonical death (that I am still deeply bitter about). Likely throws Wonder Woman canon right out of the window.

*melty noises intensity* THEY CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER TO THE FUCKING GRAVE also the lore is cool as hell in this one

the entire Grade School series by KagSesshlove

Imagine that Damian goes to a regular school full time. And has to do things that normal grade-schoolers have to do. This is his life now: pretending to be a normal 10 year old at school all for the sake of the public. But, honestly, the public would rather he not.

fucking hilarious series, i especially like My Family by Damian Wayne

i have so many more LMAO 

#batfam #fic rec #batfam fic rec #batfam fanfiction #dc comics #batman #batman fanfiction #batfamily #dc #dcu #bruce wayne #dick grayson #cassandra cain #jason todd #tim drake #duke thomas #damian wayne #batkids

[yandearest]

MTOBEIYF Planned Ending

Apologies for not writing in a long time. I haven’t been able to work on my fic due to personal reasons. Not sure if I will have time in the future but didnt want to leave people hanging so here is the planned ending:

May come back to this one day, so obvious spoiler warning

CH 8 Hide and Seek

The girl from 6 attempts to kill YN but YN wakes up hearing the sound of twigs snapping as she climbs the tree. She feigns being asleep only to swing her knife when 6 gets close, causing her to lose her balance and fall from the tree to her death.

At the sound of a canon Hoseok awakens – immediately seeing Athena, Namjoon and Yoongi all still in the tent. Realizing it could only be 6 or YN Hoseok rushes out and starts screaming her name over the edge of the fall. When there’s no answer, he immediately grabs a bag along with bow and arrow, and leaves camp. Namjoon says he’s coming too and this time they won’t return without her – brings a sword.

Athena notices the boys leaving and follows without them realizing.

Back in the forest YN hasn’t eaten since the games began and is beginning to starve. In desperation she makes her way back towards the cornucopia to gather food but comes across a bush filled with berries. Remembering the training she spent on foods she can’t decide if the berries are blueberries or nightlock and decides to nibble just a little bit first. The taste is initially sweet so she swallows the mouthful before a numbing effect on the tongue and throat- making her realize it’s the poison nightlock. Quickly she shoves her finger down her throat and induces vomiting to bring up as much of the poison as possible, but some is still in her system. She forces herself to throw up again before drinking all the water left in her bottle to try and rehydrate only to throw up again. Makes a run for the river.

Athena sees the nightlock and vomit and thinks YN has gone to the waterfront to try and wash it out of her system given there was no canon – so she’s still alive – but no one is there. Athena tracks. Meanwhile Hoseok and Namjoon are both near the bottom of the hill – they make a truce to not attack each other until Yoongi and Athena are dead before splitting up to cover more ground. Namjoon takes the forest, Hoseok goes towards the water.

YN drags herself in and floats on her back, scooping water into her hand to try and drink before Athena suddenly appears above her. YN is weak, with no will to live, and can tell Athena is about to kill her and asks for a quick death to which Athena promises a stab to the heart. Athena tells her she really does look like an angel and YN responds that Athena is her angel of death, a mercy killing saving her from a much worse fate with Namjoon or Hoseok. Athena agrees and steadies her with one hand under her rib cage, YN holds onto her arm with her closest hand and stares up to the ‘sky’. But before Athena can strike a blow an arrow is launched into the side of Athena’s head and her dead body falls onto YN, who is too weak to push her off. Hoseok sprints out from his hiding place to rescue YN, meanwhile Namjoon, watching from inside the forest, decides to head back to camp before sunset – knowing Hoseok and YN will be safe together.

YN is barely conscious as Hoseok drags her out of the water. Shouldering her bag with the blanket inside, along with his own bag, he carries her over to the waterfall and to 7’s old camp inside. He lays her down before running off to fetch dry twigs and branches in order to build a fire. As the sun sets and the temperature drops YN is still wet from the river and beginning to freeze. Hoseok strips her of her clothes and wraps her in the thermal blanket before another gift from a sponsor arrives of a container of hot soup. Hoseok feeds her and YN becomes more conscious but increasingly depressed about having survived.

She blames him for taking away her painless exit from the games and he asks her what kind of death she wants. Remembering how sweet the berries were she tells him she wants to die by nightlock. She asks him to promise to let her eat nightlock if they are the final 2 and he doesn’t answer. She then asks how he would want to die and he says he doesn’t plan on it and tells her to instead imagine being old together. She jokes about growing old and living in the arena forever before saying the capital would force them to kill each other somehow.

Still shivering under the blanket Hoseok strips off his remaining clothing to warm her up with skin to skin contact from behind. Initially starts with rubbing her arms before his hands circle around to her breasts.

YN feels ashamed at how quickly she responded and tries to push Hoseok away only for him to push her onto her back. She puts her hands against his chest unsure if she was trying to pull him closer or away. Looking her in the eyes he sees them glassy and in shock as he tries to sooth her, running his fingers through her hair lovingly. The other hand holds hers before moving his hand to wrap her thigh around his hip, kissing her as he pushes in. Hoseok wipes a tear from her cheek, a combination from the shame and how good the sex is feeling. Her eyelashes flutter close and she sighs her head tilting to the side resting her forehead against their joined hands letting out whimpers whenever he pushes inside of her.

His other arm braces himself by the side of her head, caging her underneath his body. She stares up at him entranced by the warm light of the fire casting a golden glow on his tan skin, as the shadows emphasize his sharp cheekbones, pointed nose, and strong jawline. If she was an angel then Jung Hoseok was the devil himself and she was being dragged to hell.  Hoseok uses his shirt to wipe her down before holding her tightly against him as they both fall asleep by the fire.

X

CH 9 A fate worse than death

They’re awoken by the sound of a canon early in the morning and quickly realize that they’re now down to just 3 people. YN wants to stay in the cave and wait for the last person to try and find them here but Hoseok wants to confront them at camp, telling her to wait for him. She refuses and follows him. He warns her of traps they set around the camp and holds her hand to guide her through the forest.

Nearing the camp they see Yoongi’s body floating face down in the river, ‘Namjoon wants us to know it’s him’ YN wants to walk through the river to avoid leaving tracks but Hoseok says it’s too visible and steers them back into the forest to take another way around to the camp, along the area he set the traps up in. Hoseok becomes suspicious the traps he set have been moved only to trigger a rope trap that he dodges only for YN to be caught in a net. As Hoseok tries to find the rope to cut her down Namjoon appears, severing the back of his leg with a knife. YN screams and Namjoon remarks that he looks forward to hearing more of that sound after he finishes with Hoseok, saying sharing time is up and that he wants to have his way with his district mate before securing his victory. He toys with Hoseok, making deep cuts that are painful, but not lethal – taunting him. It becomes increasingly clear that Namjoon deliberately toned down his skills in the training and assessment and is even smarter and stronger than his 10. Meanwhile YN is inside the net cutting a hole. As Namjoon teases Hoseok, telling him he’s going to force her to watch him die, then he’s going to fuck her and finally gut her like a fish from their district, YN falls out from the net and breaks her arm on impact – alerting Namjoon. Namjoon decides he wants to force Hoseok to watch and stabs his him through the hand with an arrow pinning him to the ground.

‘Silly little dove,’ Namjoon taunts as he reaches her laying on the ground – falsely thinking she’s cradling her broken arm – but she really has a knife. When he grabs her by the hair and yanks her up she swings her arm and slashes him across the chest, drawing blood. Namjoon sneers and goes to hit her but remembering their sparing session from training YN dodges the attack and is able to land another slash in with the knife, this time across his arm. Namjoon acknowledges his mistake in underestimating her and promises it won’t happen again. YN attempts to surprise him by attacking first but he blocks the knife and slams her wrist against a boulder until she drops it. YN slams her knee up in Namjoon’s groin who retaliates by gripping her broken arm and slamming her against the boulder. In too much pain from the broken arm she can’t defend herself when NJ backhands her across the face, sending her to the ground. She reaches for her knife but he steps on her arm and she screams in pain as Hoseok snaps the arrow in half and pulls his hand out of the broken stem, biting down on his shoulder to try and smother his scream. Namjoon leans down to grab her knife, holding it to her throat as he straddles her waist and tells her he’s going to claim her as his, and if she behaves then he’ll give her the quick death. YN sobs as he reaches for her pants only for Hoseok to appear behind and stab Namjoon in the neck with the tip half of the broken arrow. Namjoon drops the knife in shock and YN quickly picks it up and stabs him in the heart mockingly saying she’s granting him a quick death. She kicks his body off of hers and he floats down the stream towards the edge of the waterfall before disappearing off the side. – a canon sounds

Both injured, YN and Hoseok collapse into each others arms. Hoseok has multiple stab wounds, a bad one on his leg and the hole in his hand from the arrow. YN has her broken arm, a bruise on her face from the hit and a cut on her throat from where the knife had been held. Hoseok confesses he loves her as he cradles her in his arms, YN with her eyes closed and leaning against his chest can’t bring herself to admit her love but instead asks him to let her eat a nightlock berry like she tried to make him promise. Hoseok holds her tighter and asks if she trusts him. She says yes and Hoseok leans down to kiss her one last time which she returns. ‘close your eyes angel’ she does. With his injured hand he wraps his arm around her neck to cut off circulation, his good hand covers her nose and mouth, smothering her. She tries to struggle but passes out within 10 seconds, he keeps the hold for another 10 and the canon sounds

Hoseok is declared the winner of the games

 *

 YN awakens inside of a medical bay. Confused she wonders if she is in a strange version of hell, or if the capitol has somehow found a way to harvest souls, before a nurse realizes she is conscious. She is informed that the trackers injected into the body detect when the heart stops beating which sounds the canon. Hoseok had refused to leave her body and demanded she be taken with him on the ship that came to claim him as the winner and remove him from the arena. Immediately on board he began to resuscitate her and is able to start her heartbeat again. He convinces the capital workers to let him keep her. She had died, he had won the games, if he could revive her afterwards it wouldn’t make a difference to them, they could continue to let everyone think she had died. The capital agrees on the conditions she is to live with him and never able to leave their mansion in the victors’ village and Hoseok is to comply with any future demands of the capital to do with his obligations as a winner. He accepts and the medical team take them both away. YN asks where she is now and the doctor tells her inside of the train. Hoseok is on victory tour of all the districts and refuses to let her be taken away from him – fearing the capital will dispose of her. He fears she could still be killed whilst inside the train but he would also raise hell during one of the stops if that happened. YN is confused, distraught and traumatized when Hoseok walks in to see her awake. He runs to her side and envelops her in a hug, kissing her. He repeats how much he loves her and that nothing can ever take her form this world without him following right behind her. YN is in shock, not believing she is alive, not believing Hoseok is real and struggling to speak. The doctor tries to explain to Hoseok she may have brain damage and it’s a possibility she could never recover. The only thing Hoseok cares about is that she is alive.

A summary of the tour continuing with YN recovering although her speech is permanently impaired (aphasia). When they finally conclude and return to 2 she is moved in a van that is disguised to look like a delivery and transported inside of a box from the van to the house, so no one can possibly see her.

Inside the blinds are shut and all the doors are locked before Hoseok appears again and forces an ‘engagement’ ring on her finger, but there is a device inside that tracks her location. YN begins to panic, she went from being trapped in one arena to trapped forever in this house. She tries to run but there’s nowhere to run to. She runs to the kitchen to search for a knife but Hoseok restrains her before she can injure herself. She goes limp in his arms losing all hope as he whispers in her ear how much he loves her and now they can always be together forever.