#which leads into my next point- which is that i'm doing the classic 'if you can't find it write it yourself' with my original work

[stellacendia]

I've got a complicated history with the concept of romance. I had a relationship in high school that, while technically romantic, was more or less "I like you the same amount as my other friends except we kiss sometimes." I've always had friendships that were incredibly intense, at least on my end. And when the person on the other end of that friendship was single, I felt that intensity was... more or less returned enough for me to be content. Not everyone values friendships like I do, I get it. Good enough for me.

Then that friend would get a romantic partner, and suddenly it felt like I mattered way less. And, god, I've always tried to be reasonable about it, I've tried to be understanding and nice. Of course my friend wants to spend a lot of time with their partner, especially when the relationship is new. Of course the partner is important too, of course romance is important to my friend. I can't be selfish and deny my friend time with their partner. I should try to be friends with the partner so that we can all spend time together. No, it's definitely not third-wheeling, not when we're all friends with each other!

But yeah, I felt replaced. Also horribly guilty for feeling replaced, but to me.... that friend was the most important person in the world. I'd do anything for that person, no questions asked. Follow them to the ends of the earth, let my entire universe revolve around them. (Is this healthy? Maybe not. Probably not. Did it anyway. Don't know how not to.) And it just fucken sucks when that person simply won't offer the same devotion in return. They'll offer it to their romantic partner, because the romantic partner is always more important than any platonic relationships. They'll offer it conditionally to me, when they're between relationships, only to drop me again the moment they start up another romance.

It's this messy cycle that keeps me endlessly questioning whether or not I'm really aromantic. Cause most of the time I feel like I am! I do not and have never needed romance. And then I catch myself daydreaming about a future where I have a partner that acts in all the ways a romantic partner does and have a mini identity crisis.

And I think, I've figured it out. I don't actually want a romantic relationship. What I want is for someone to finally offer me back the same kind of devotion most commonly found in romantic relationships, the same kind of devotion I offer my closest friends. For once I want to be somebody's most important person, instead of always being second best.

#stella speaks #personal #i need some fucken therapy #i wish it was as simple as 'well just don't sink so much into the friendship then' but unfortunately it's not #i didn't exactly choose to attach myself so firmly to any of the friends i did this with #it's just... kinda how i do friendships. there's one or two people who is Everything to me and everyone else is just kinda an acquaintance #i've never really had what one could call a healthy social life lol #y'know- on a semi-related note- this is why i spend a lot of time reading romance fanfic #i've got several ships where the two characters are utterly obsessed with each other and they're each other's whole worlds #and i do really enjoy the fics that make it a romantic pairing (cause none of them are canon) #but i will admit that it's because trying to find content with characters feeling that way platonically is..... well. near impossible #people tend to look at devotion like that and go 'there's no heterosexual explanation for this' #which of course is perfectly valid #but also.... please give me that intensity for platonic relationships??? somewhere??? #which leads into my next point- which is that i'm doing the classic 'if you can't find it write it yourself' with my original work #my two mcs value each other above everyone else and they are strictly platonic #anyway. that was.... a lot. needed to get that out real quick

[arisuworld]

LAW OF ASSUMPTION: AN EPIPHANY-ⅠⅠⅠ

⋆ ☾ : How to manifest?

In the most simplest way, i am going to tell you how to exactly manifest. This time with no methods and with not even lifting a finger.

ASSUME WHAT YOU WANT TO BE

want that car? assume it. want to be a celebrity? assume it. want to date a celebrity? assume it. want to have your dream desired appearance? assume it, IT'S DONE. That's it, that's actually it.

If you assume your desire and live there as though it were true, no power on earth can stop it from becoming a fact — Neville GODDARD.

Change your conception of yourself and you will automatically change the world in which you live — Neville GODDARD

Your opinion on yourself is your most important viewpoint, you are infinitely greater than you think you are — Neville GODDARD

SO WHAT IS THE LAW?

The law is basically: law of assumption in simple definition is: WHATEVER YOU ASSUME, YOU WILL HAVE IT IN YOUR REALITY. For example if you were assuming into your reality that you own a million dollar house, then BY LAW that million dollar house is yours! you will have it in your reality in no-time.

HOW DO I MANIFEST?

I get this question a lot surprisingly, and its pretty self explanatory by the name. You ASSUME that you have what you want.

ᥫ᭡ :: if you assume your desire and live there as though it were true, no power on earth can stop it from becoming a fact — Neville goddard

(which leads me to my next point)

LIVING IN THE END—

To successfully manifest you must live in the end. You can do many techniques as you please but if you do not maintain living in the end, then....you’re gonna struggle. Living in the end is— going on your day knowing your desire is here. Neville going to barbados is the classic example of living in the end. He mentally operated as though he was in barbados even though he was living in new york, here’s another example.

Let's say, I'm manifesting a romantic partner in my life and i'm no longer in the “WANTING” state and I'm now in the “FULFILLED” state. So, i would think FROM my desire. “everyday ___ texts me” “me and ____” have such a good relationship”

embody

/ɪmˈbɒdi,ɛmˈbɒdi/

be an expression of or give a tangible or visible form to (an idea, quality, or feeling).

WHAT IS PERSISTENCE?

People often confuse persistence with consistently. Affirming 24/7 till they pass out or their head hurts which is so wrong. Persisting isn’t affirming, it's knowing that your desire is inevitable. You feel safe and secure knowing THAT CREATION IS FINISHED. The moment you’ve finished your visualisation, affirmations, SATs or whatever or have just simply stated that your desire is yours then your desire has already been completed. Your “job” is to just continue KNOWING that it’s yours!

WHAT IS THE STATE OF WISH FULFILLNESS?

The state of wish fulfilled is pretty similar to living in the end, and they do go hand in hand. To be in the state of wish of fulfilment, you must ASSUME YOUR DESIRE IS DONE. How would you feel? happy, comfortable, relaxed, satisfied. That's literally it. You’re no longer desiring to manifest because you have finally manifested it.

People confuse the state of wish fulfilment with being happy all the time and that's what they're doing wrong. You do not need to be happy. That phone that’s in your hand you’ve manifested it, were you happy the first time you got it? yeah ofc you did, it's a new phone but soon after a while it felt natural. You were like “yeah thats my phone” you wasn’t like “OMGGG THATS MY PHONE!!!” you knew it was yours and went off.

#manifestation #manifestation blog #law of assumption #loa blog #manifesting #manifesation #void #void state #loassumption #loa

[shiro-s2e2-erukinzu]

Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 93... You have been warned...! 👌

[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!

IT HAPPENED...! IT FINALLY HAPPENED!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! AHHHHHHHHHHH!! 😵

Honestly, words cannot describe how crazy this chapter was, but we're gonna talk about it anyway...!! 👀 LET'S GO!!! 😆

The chapter begins with everyone checking how well they did on finals, and Anya did a whole lot better than last time...!! 😆

I AM SO PROUD OF HER!!! 👏😄

Anya went from 213th to 168th place!! 🎉 Let's hope that Anya continues to improve in the future...!! 😊👍

Then, we finally got to see how well she did in Classical Language and...:

She got second place...!

But, she will still receive a Stella for it!! 👏😆Then, we find out that she got 24 points in math, which is just below the cut off point... Which means...:

So, not only did Anya get a Stella, she ALSO received A TONITRUS BOLT!!? 😵😂🤣😌

GODDAMNIT ANYA!! 😂 That means the score is still tied, but now it's 5 and 5 until she either becomes an Imperial Scholar or gets expelled...!! 😌

Then, we got probably my new favorite Loid expression...:

🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂 I'M SO SORRY LOID!!🤣

This poor man can't catch a break, but at he's quite proud of Anya for doing well on the test...!! 😊

After that, we cut to Authens praising Anya as well, but Sigmund says something that intrigues me...:

"...One day you'll experience the frustration of realizing that hard work is not always rewarded..."

Hmm... What could this mean...? Personally, if Sigmund does have something to do with the experiments that were conducted on Anya, then this could be his way of saying that not many know of his scientific experiments... But, that's just a guess at this point and I could very well just be reading too much into this single sentence... 🤔

Moving on, before Anya goes to bed that night Loid asks her a question...:

I was surprised that Twilight asked this!! 😲 But his question turned out to be for naught because Anya doesn't really remember... 😔 So, Twilight just tells her to forget about what he asked and now I'm wondering if this will lead Twilight finding out the truth about Anya's past and that she's a telepath... 🤔

Well anyway, we cut to Anya and Damian receiving Stellas for doing well on the test, and then it's the middle school students turn... AND GUESS WHO SHOWS UP...?! 👀

DEMETRIUS MOTHER F---ING DESMOND!!!😵

AFTER ALL THIS TIME, HE HAS FINALLY APPEARED...!! 👀

I can't believe that I was ACTUALLY RIGHT that he was gonna look more like his dad...! (Check out this post where I drew what I thought he might look like!! 👍)

But to continue, Demetrius is also as strange as his mother and father... ESPECIALLY BECAUSE OF THIS...!!:

After finally getting to meet him and seeing that Anya can't read his mind, my original theory that he might be working with his father, just got thrown out the window...!! Because now, I think that Demetrius has been experimented on... 😥 I hope that I'm wrong, but I just don't know this point...

AND THINK THAT'S ENOUGH ABOUT THIS CHAPTER FOR TODAY!

Today's chapter was excellent, but now that Demetrius has finally shown up, my mind is going crazy about what this ALL MEANS!😫

Anyway, I think I'll stop for today and possibly regroup with myself to figure out WHAT IS WRONG WITH THE DESMONDS!! (Except for Damain, who is the only normal one there..!!🥲) So until the next Mission or if I try attempt to figure out what is up with the Desmonds; take care, be safe out there and be kind to one another...!! Later!! 👍

#spy x family #sxf #spyxfamily #Mission 93 #spy x family manga #sxf manga #spyxfamily manga #anya forger #damian desmond #becky blackbell #ewen egeburg #emile elman #bill watkins #loid forger #yor forger #sigmund authen #barbara authen #demetrius desmond #I CAN'T BELIEVE THST HE FINALLY SHOWED UP!! 😵 #WHAT IS UP WITH HIM!? #WHAT IS WRONG WITH THE DESMONDS!?!? 😫 (Except for Damian...! 👍) #manga spoilers #spy x family spoilers #sxf spoilers #spyxfamily spoilers

[girlbossagenda]

Hi! I love your posts! Can you do one on: how to stop fawning over pretty more “seemingly” confident and educated women our age? I tend to do fawning and it’s embarrassing because I want to have more successful and confident friends but I end up being a pushover or weirdly admire them wayyyy to much and I become nervous speaking to them. Thanks so much!

HOW TO STOP FAWNING OVER OTHER GIRLS AND BE YOUR N°1 FAN

Omg, this is such and underrated topic!! Thanks for asking, we usually see the beauty and the light in other people, to the point that we stop seeing the true beauty inside of us, sometimes we ever become doormats to our own friends, Time to change! So here's how:

౨ৎCREATE CLEAR BOUNDARIES౨ৎ

Girl stop showing up for every single little thing, especially if they won't do it for you too!

౨ৎDON'T SPEND TIME WITH THE SAME PEOPLE ALL THE TIMES౨ৎ

Try to enter in different rooms with different people and found in which roon you are more appreciated, maybe you shine more in a place full of alternative people or in a place with the classic ig influencer!

౨ৎDON'T BE EASILY ACCESSIBLE౨ৎ

People are going to take you fro granted if you're the one who always shows up, especially if the plan it's last minute, ofc, I'm telling you to not skip every meeting or people will start to not invite you, but take in consideration to live more for yourself.

Sometimes saying "No sorry for this day I can't" or "sorry maybe next time" can help you gain more appeal and make you feel more confident.

౨ৎPUT THEM DOWN OF THE MF PEDESTAL౨ৎ

Why bow to them and not bow to yourself? What makes them so special? Are you not the main character of your life? So act like it! take space, act like the leading role!!!

౨ৎTIME FOR A GLOW UPPP౨ৎ

If you are bringing down your looks, I suggest to actually practice some for of selfcare along side with putting in practice some glow up tips, starting from the basics to then reaching the top level!!(I might post a glow up guide soon!!)

౨ৎGET TO KNOW YOURSELF౨ৎ

When you know yourself, you know how much you are worthy, do it for your younger self, once you get to know how you are inside, you'll start to idolize your own self

౨ৎEDUCATE YOUR SELF౨ৎ

If it's education the proble, gain more knowledge, get educated, but don't always talk about it randomly ofìr people are gonna take you for a show off, instead try to share that knowledge by going to acculturated places, or inviting them out somewhere like a museum, a book review meeting, a festival etc...

Sorry for the late answer, you know In middle school I hed your same problem, but I solved it by simply avoiding this type of girls and focusing on myself, so every single time whe had some type of conversation I could handle it with my brain(I wasn't that much of a beauty back then lol). I hope you have a great day, and I hope I helped xoxo gougeous

-𝓐

#girlblogging #just girly things #girly tumblr #it girl #hyper feminine #just girly posts #dream girl #self care #pink text #self love #girly #this is a girlblog #this is what makes us girls #confidence #self confidence #beauty tips #goddess tips avenue #goddess sorority #ask blog #fashion #good advice #advice #girl blog #girl blogger #blog #loa blog #loa tumblr

[erinartemis]

OMGOMGOMGKFMSGSKB IM FREAKING OUT IT'S HERE!!! MURDER DRONES EPISODE 7 TEASER!! EEEEEE!!! I went frame by frame and picked out some cool scenes I wanted to scream about, so get ready for a bunch of crazed ramblings and some theories !! (Long post ahead, folks)

Okay first of all- just- the lighting in these shots ✨ simply gorgeous... Also that "poster" thing in the background of the first image is very interesting.. obviously it says HELP (though that looks scrawled-on afterward with probably blood), and it looks like there could be possibly eyes? EDIT: it's not eyes it's two drones standing !!!

Also can we appreciate how creepy cool that hole in the ground is :00

THEIR ROOMS! THE SILLIES' ROOMS!!! WHAT SECRETS DO THEY HOLD?? I hope we find out

EDIT: THEY'RE LOCKERS NOT ROOMS OOPSIES

Good to see we've still got a bit of that classic md humor: "not to be overdramatic but core collapse" xd

N oh no N IS HE OKAY?? what am I talking about ofc he's not (I'm going to cry at this episode)

OKAY NEXT-

This thing. What is this thing. Probably part of the Solver, as it's all organic and eldritch-y, and it has veins. It looks lit from behind, almost like we're looking out from the inside of something? I think it's possible somebody gets dragged into one of those physical manifestations of the Solver, and this could be their perspective from inside it! Oooor we're looking at it from the outside, and there's something glowing inside the mass.

Next up, these guys??? So many possibilities here... They look like humans, but they aren't necessarily so, just like the "Tessa Isn't Human" theory. And from what little you can see in the teaser, they are moving in an odd way- suspicious. I originally thought they could be manifestation of the Solver or something, created to confuse, but after considering it for a bit, I realized it's more likely this scene is a flashback to when the core collapsed.

SOLVERUZISOLVERUZISOLVER- OHHHH BOY SOLVER UZI

Okay. This shot is a bit confusing; can't really make out what's going on- To me, it looks like something is possibly exploding? And the red string things are lasers or something? Also the blobs in the foreground definitely look like Solver hands, but- that's all I've got for this one

Tessa. Tessatessatessa tessa are you pulling a sword on Uzi? oh no, you are, aren't you, ohh no

WHAT DID UZI SEE. ON THAT TV SCREEN. HELP SHE LOOKS SO TRAUMATIZED- Also also wanted to point out the "freaking ninja star" on the ground.. little callback there :,)

the crucifix will be important, oo religious imageryyy eee

DOG.

Small thing, this is clearly the same scene from the GLITCHx 7/8 teaser, but it's the shot from a little bit before the clip in that teaser plays. I wonder how much control Uzi has over herself at this point... These robots are going to so much pain someone help them

norinorinori nori I'M SO READY FOR THE LORE AND FLASHBACKS EEEE

OMGOMGOGMOGMOMG YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HYPED I WAS WHEN I SAW THIS- WE'RE GETTING MURDER N YALL!!! FIRST TIME SINCE THE PILOT EEEE!!! Oh my gosh I just KNOW it's going to be an emotional response to something horrible happening- something to do with Uzi getting fully possessed, or almost dying, or N THINKING she's dead, or just all the stress of EVERYTHING, along with V's (hopefully not actually) death, and it just pushes him to his breaking point OH AND all the repressing he's been doing this whole time WILL NOT BE HELPING WITH THAT !!! I'm SO EXCITED TO FIND OUT AAAA-

Oh it could also be that N gets factory-reset, causing him to actually lose his memories or something, which is AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT PILE OF ANGST, but personally I hope/think it'll be closer to the first one... It seems very likely to me that all of the stuff N's been going through (and how he's just been pretending everything's fine) would catch up to him, and it would lead to an "outburst" of everything he's been bottling up. PLUS do y'all remember that merch ad?? I know it was just a promo, but merch stuff has been shown to be kind of relevant to the plot in the past soo... yeah I'm feeling very good about this theory-

Okay so this is the same guy from the earlier image with all the humans- That feels notable, like they're going to be important. And is it just me and my poor video quality or does the Sentinel hand look glitchy?? Could it have turned on the humans like the one that turned on "Tessa" in Cabin Fever??

Oh dear, that's oil (or blood; they whole thing's too red to tell) coming from Uzi's eye... Feeling like the same thing that happened to Doll happens to Uzi... agh the ANGST hdfbsjsb

DOOOOOLL DOLL DOLL !!! SHE'S THERE !! I THINK SHE HAS BUTCHER KNIVES AGAIN !! I wonder who she's fighting... (I mean it could be a sentinel, but it looks like she's talking, so I'm guessing it's one of the group) ee I'm excited to see where Doll's character goes from here !!

ALLLLRIGHTY!! This has been a breakdown of my personal thoughts on the teaser! I am SOOO excited; these next two weeks need to go by FAST but ik they won't- Anyways... thanks for reading ! :D

#murder drones #murder drones ep 7 #murder drones episode 7 #murder drones theory #md #uzi doorman #murder drones uzi #serial designation n #murder drones n #absolute solver #murder drones absolute solver #murder drones nori #nori doorman #doll murder drones #IF YOU COULDN'T TELL #I. AM. HYYYYPED!!!!! #long post

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Keep Thinking About Gale x Single Mom!Tav

A/N: Shout-out to @leighsartworks216 for letting me ramble to them about it. I just need to get all this stuff rattling around in my brain out.

I know, I know, Gale repeatedly says he's not father material, but have you considered that I want him to be a dad anyway and it's cute

So in my brain this single mom is named Gwen (Guinevere); a half-elf, wild magic sorceress

She came from a fairly well to do family, married a handsome and acceptably rich merchant and soon had a child on the way

Problems came when she gave birth to a healthy baby girl, who also happened to be a teifling

Seen as a bad omen, both her family and husband wanted her to give up the child, she refused causing her husband to leave her and her family to reject her

She didn't let that stop her though and soon she found a new home for her and Clara

Over the next eight years she worked hard to build a life for herself and make sure Clara never doubted for a moment she was loved

Gwen knew the world would be hard on her girl, so she made a point to build up her confidence and teach her it's never wrong to fight back when people are treating you unfairly; you can't take that shit lying down

Blunt and a bit intense, Gwen has seen and done plenty of shit and thought she finally had a handle on her life; and then she got kidnapped by illithids

Still haven't played the game, so I can't give a play by play of every interaction, but I do know early game she would be a bit distracted

Obviously her first goal is to figure out if her daughter is okay so it frankly is the only thing on her mind until she gets her hand on a sending scroll or something like it

Only after does she confirm that Clara is safe and with people she trusts can she focus on the task at hand

Takes a liking to Gale basically from the word go; he's respectful, he know hows to cook, he keeps making comments about his tongue, there is only so much a woman can handle

Gods know it has been a while since she's gotten laid

He starts rambling about magic and she can't not fuck him

Gale is hesitant at first because first the orb, second Gwen has made no secret she had a child and Gale doesn't see himself as father material, and three because he does really, really like her and doesn't want to make promises he can't keep

I'd say they're able to meet Clara before they head come to Baldur's Gate so Gale and the rest can meet her earlier; and to give Gwen some peace of mind

Clara is a very curious and headstrong, both of which Gale can appreciate; he can see why Gwen was so determined to get back to her, which only makes him admire her more

Also, quick aside about the rest of the companions; Wyll and Karlach would be ready to baby sit at any given moment, Lae'zel admires the child's fighting spirit and absolutely gifted her a sword, Shadowheart enjoys her more mischievous tendencies, and Astarion is classic wine aunt who hates all kids except Clara (he's been helping her stage of coup of the swing set)

Eventually feelings are confessed between Gale and Gwen leading to a proper relationship (and Gwen actually getting laid)

Gwen is absolutely not having it with him trying to blow himself up or becoming a god

Mystra: You must destroy yourself and the orb. Gale: Alright, let me ask Gwen. Mystra: No, that's not--. Gale: She said no.

Once everything is said and done, I'm going back and forth on if they would settle in Waterdeep

Clara has friends and it would be hard to ask her to leave, but I think Gale could compromise and get a position at a different magical university closer by

Either way, Gale settles into the domestic life rather nicely and dives head first into being the best father to Clara he can be

He absolutely devours every parenting book he can get his hands on, only to throw it all out the window once he's actually in it; Gwen did warn him, but old habits and all that

Probably waits a little longer to actually get married to see how they all function as a family together first; plus he wants to properly ask Clara if she's okay with him marrying her mother

I've got other random thoughts, but that about covers it for now, if you want to know more, feel free to drop an ask! I'm up for anything.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale bg3 #gale x tav #gale dekarios x tav #gale of waterdeep x tav #gale x gwen #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale headcanons #single mom!tav

[levikra]

I have Acute Lymphoblastic Leukosis aka Blood Cancer

buckle up :D

This post should've been here for sometime now cuz I prefer keeping everyone updated across all the platforms that I use as an artist.

So - Hi! My name is Evein, on 1st of May 2023 I turned 21 and since then, from 5th of May my health decided to pull a quick one on me, propelling the events that currently make me reside at the hospital with an oncology.

It all started with a tonsillitis-like fever, accompanied by furunclosis in three places on my body, a high fever that lasted for 5 days in the first half of May itself and other unpleasant symptoms. It felt weird, I've never had such an intense streak of sicknesses kick my ass like that, but of course - I went to doctors to get checked, the classic blood testings and general examinations and stuff.

That's when on 10th of May my blood test was checked by a dermatologist regarding my furuncle problem and - after some brief moments of her talking with the main doctor at the clinic - I was rushed to the governmential hospital due to the fact that my blood results had... no white blood cells. Literally 1.83 at the accepted range being much higher than that.

Needless to say I was fucking shocked, I've never dealt with the severity of the situation and let alone while being completely on my own as a human person (working, living, providing for myself, you call it).

At the hospital, after several examinations and another blood test came the recommendation paper that doctors signed with urgency, first and foremost I needed to get to an appointment at the hematologist's. That I did on 14th of May and since that point of time, till 19th, I'd been monitored, given antibiotics for my tonsillitis-like symptoms, along with my furunclosis and after 19th we ruled out the condition to be leukosis, became my white blood cells started coming back to normal with the antibiotics aiding my immunity, but despite that - thr condition still seemed as something more reminiscent of mononucleosis (which, however, in another blood test was disproven).

After exactly a week of feeling better, albeit dealing with leftover anemia, I started developing the same symptoms back and even worse, to the point of losing consciousness and thrwoing up in an elevator on 29th of May after going out for the second pack of antibiotics my hematologist had then already approved of to use to help out.

That's when I was rushed to the hospital again and - the next day - my hematologist arranged an appointment at the big clinic that has an oncology ward specifically for my situation. On 1st of June I was officially admitted with Acute Leukosis (the diagnosis doc attached is in Russian).

Since 1st of June the treatment has been ongoing, I've received three rounds of chemo along with supporting hormonal abd antibiotic therapy. Me is balding too, ofc. :D

And thus, this story leads to a logical question - what's now?

It's day 24 of my treatment, out of 4-6 weeks of inital induction period of leukosis' treatment (the overall chemotherapy to destroy tumor cells down to <5% in my bone marrow). After the induction period, if it's proven to lead to remissions - I'm then admitted out to certain periods of time in between infusions + need to take supporting medicine by myself (hence buying it too).

As an independent freelance artist who's existence is tied to being able to do creative work out of, well, any circumstances, I was sadly forced into situation of asking for monetary support, simply because it's stupid to expect to break your own back trying to work harder when you're body is collapsing on itself.

I have a goal on Boosty open for donations and I deeply appreciate ANY and I mean ANY traction of this post. I made a similar thread on Twitter covering the situation and have recieved a lotnof incredible support that has helped me a LOT so far, but my treatment is ongoing, or to be precise - will last in its entirety for 2-3 years. With the momentary help I was able to secure my living situation and get my pet cat to live for the current time period at my friend's, but you understand how that is just a temporary measure and, of course, I don't plan on stall myself - I simply just can't afford that even while hospitalised.

BOOSTY is very sus when it comes to singular donations higher than 120$ but if you happen to donate below that or in several different ones to bypass their antifraud system (only if you wish to) - the link to a goal is here -

#levikra draws stuff #dragon age #digital art #dragon age fanart #fanart #dragon age 2 #da2 #dragon age inquisition #blood cancer #acute lymphoblastic leukosis #donations #support the artists #artists helping artists

[bellepeppergirl]

An Investigation of the Impaler's Catacombs

So, with the DLC being announced and us getting some info about it and its characters, one thing we learn is, of course, Messmer the Impaler. Some people were quick to point out that there is a location in the base game called Impaler's Catacombs. "Impaler's" is singular, meaning it belonged to AN impaler, not a group of impalers, which would be impalers'.

Interestingly, the Impaler's Catacombs are also located on the Weeping Peninsula. I say this is interesting because a couple reasons;

1. The Weeping Peninsula is home to a spirit next to a church who speaks of an unwanted child of Marika's. Many people assumed this had something to do with the headless demigod in the Walking Mausoleums, but we are now inclined to believe it could be Messmer. That being said, there could be some relation to the headless demigod and Messmer, as we do seem to see more knights similar to Mausoleum Knights in the trailer and images. And with Messmer's seeming fondness for blasphemous things; he has dragon eyes, he has a snake, he wields fire and what looks like the thorns of the guilty, I think this could be related to why he would be unwanted. He's a little shit.

2. The Weeping Peninsula does not have a demigod or shardbearer. Every other region of the game has some kind of big boss that is important to the main story, while the Peninsula has... a Leonine Misbegotten... sure, this boss is interesting with the story of Castle Morne and it having the sword, but it is interesting that this is the only region without one and just so happens to also have this dungeon and a spirit talking about an unwanted child.

So, onto the actual dungeon.

For starters, we have a giant pit near the beginning of the dungeon.

Is this important? Probably not since I'm pretty sure other dungeons have this kind of entrance area, but one think I don't think is typical of dungeons is this:

There are bars over the tombs. Now, I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure this does not happen in other dungeons, at least not very many. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think this is odd.

And this appears to be in multiple areas, not just this hall, though admittedly not every one of these corpse storage things are like this.

But now we have the impaling part of the Impaler's Catacombs; a classic trap of step on it, get pushed up into a bunch of spikes. Oh look at that, you've been impaled.

I think this could imply that, if this is related to Messmer, that he would be a very cruel person. I mean, you would probably have to be cruel to impale someone regardless, but to do so through a not-so-fun funhouse trap is probably a bit more sadistic.

Underneath this is the sewers. These sewers still have tombs here, which is a pretty shitty place to be laid to rest. Does this have any meaning? Well, it could add to the theme of unwantedness. If you don't want someone, you likely don't respect them, and if don't respect them, put them with the poop. And if he somehow had a hand in making this one, it could be that this tomb was for people just like that.

Is there anything interesting about the sewers? Well, it's full of Putrid Corpses. According the item description of the Putrid Corpse Ashes:

Does this mean anything? Tbh, I'm not sure. There could be something we could out these enemies essentially being meat shields or distractions though, but may I am reaching again.

The other interesting thing we find here is a prattling prate! Specifically...

"Please Help." Oop. I think the name speaks for itself, but the shape of this prate, all of which are intended to be heads, looks very squished. Almost like the person who has pleaded for help has had their head stepped on, which is something I'm sure many Messmer fans wish could happen to them.

Next up we have more barred over tombs next to the lever. This will add more to my theory at the end.

We've got this window that leads back to the boss room. Does this mean anything? Probably not, but you better believe that I'm gonna pull something out of it at the end. Plus it's kind of a neat way to loop back around!

Speaking of the boss, our boss is a Burial Watchdog. Pretty standard. But what isn't standard is that this one is accompanied by four imps.

Once again, very cruel. Mostly to use, the player, but still. It will go into the fuel pile for my theory.

And for beating this boss, we get the Demihuman Ashes.

Can I get anything out of this? Well, the Demi-Humans are a pretty oppressed group, like many of the inhabitants of the Lands Between who weren't born as the Golden Order or its enforcers would want you to be.

So, what is my theory? Well, as you could probably tell...

I think Messmer is an asshole. A very cruel asshole. Assuming he is related to this dungeon, I think that this dungeon was maybe meant more for punishment than normal burial.

The tombs being barred over? Only those with clean shots to the exit are. Perhaps Messmer would have people entombed alive and they would be locked behind these bars, unable to escape and forced either to starve to death, or simply suffer forever since death was removed.

Those tombs that aren't barred over? Well, they're all right on our fun little deathtrap. Sure, you don't have bars. You can get out of your tomb, but the moment you do, your driven through with metal spikes. And below is the sewers, which is full of putrid corpses and a prate asking for help.

Perhaps others were shoved down here to live in the filth, unable to get up to the top. The time of being trapped down here had them begging for help, begs that went unanswered, and they were corrupted by the filth into these putrid beings.

As for the boss? Well, let's start with the window down to it. Your only choice would be to head down into the sewers, or out this window. This window doesn't harm us, but we have protagonist powers. Any normal person would probably shatter their legs. Next, the boss' drop. The Demi-Human ashes. Again, an oppressed and hated group. Perfect for being trapped here as a punishment, no?

And the boss itself is a large group. You get past the bars, you get past the death trap, you get out of the sewers, make it down the window without being too badly hurt, and what you have is four Imps and a Watchdog waiting to make sure you NEVER make it out.

I think Messmer may have watched over the Weeping Peninsula and may have made this tomb not for the dead, but for the living. To trap them; make them suffer and never be able to get out.

And as a little bonus; the pit at the beginning. A funny thing about this pit is that there are messages down here. You can survive the drop! But uh... good luck getting out. You physically can't unless you have beaten the dungeon and fast travel, or use one of the items that return you to a Site of Grace. This could add to the theme of you're trapped and never leaving. Once the rest of the tomb is full, they bring you in, drop you in a whole, you break your everything, and are trapped. But this assumes this was intentional, but tbh, it probs wasn't.

BUT HEY, THAT'S JUST A THEORY. A GAME THEORY. Thanks for reading. Is any of this true? Maybe. Only time will tell. I'd love to hear your thoughts and thank you to everyone who made it this far in the post.

#elden ring #messmer the impaler #elden ring messmer #elden ring dlc #elden ring lore #speculation #fromsoft #fromsoftware #Impaler's Catacombs

[just-some-random-blogger]

Want You Dead

Daemon Targaryen x Pirate!Reader | Part 1 2 3

Summary: It was a classic case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time that lead to the Rogue Prince's capture to a ship of pirates. Had it not been for the cunning lady of the ship, he would have been killed. Yet, upon his relief of capture, he told himself it was only right if he captures the very lady that thought to capture him in the first place.

Word Count: 14k+

Warnings: graphic mentions of assault/rape, smut [oral (m receiving), degradation kink, impregnation kink, binding kink, fingering, vaginal penetration], fem!reader, super slow burn (i hate myself for doing this to myself), some made up characters and lore, time skips, bisexual reader, super thirsty reader, super major kinky reader, everyone onboard is her playmate fr, curse words because I'm tired, angst, misogyny, parts with fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: HELLO I MADE A FUCKING SPIN OFF????????? WHY????? IT'S SO LONG I CRASHED THE EDITOR SO MANY TIMES ?????? WHICH IS WHY I AM CUTTING THIS IN HALF OR POSSIBLY MORE T_T I really did not want to do this but tumblr decided for me with the amount of times it refused to cooperate. It's far from done T_T but i hope it's just gonna be two very long chapters. Anyway pls reblog and comment if you so desire me to get that next chapter finished quickly T_T also, if you would like to be tagged pls tell me.

"STOP!"

The 3 pair of ears in the room ring at the sound of the shriek.

He, who was bound on the floor, didn't care for it though, as there was another more pressing matter at hand. He awaited the piercing sensation of a blade to his neck. He realized though that shriek had halted his impending doom as no painful sensation came. He opens his eyes just as a sound of someone galloping over resounded on the wooden floors.

"What are you morons doing?" I demand, turning to the silver haired man on his knees with a sword to his neck. He raised his eyes up at me, then down to the weapon in my own hand.

I hit the sword by his neck away, metal clashing against metal. The blood my blade was still slick in splattered onto man's cheeks in the process.

I make a face at that, crouching down after wiping my weapon on my dress shirt, uncaring if it stains the already stained off-white cloth.

I take in his features-- violet eyes, strong jaw, pointed nose, just as it seems he is taking in mine. I do not fail to catch the fact his pupils linger on the loose ties of my top by my cleavage where a single, largish, encrusted ruby dangled from my neck.

My own eyes travel down to his armor, and it seems we both silently examine the crests we bore. I lick my lips before speaking, "apologies. May I?" I raise a hand to his face.

The man looks at me darkly. I knit my brows, holding in a chuckle at his lack of response, tongue darting out yet again to my lower lip. I pull my hand away. I stand straight then turn to the two men behind me, "did you cut his tongue off?"

For a moment, the two look at each other. The tall, red haired man widens his eyes at the shorter, yet still tall, blonde, mentally asking him if he, indeed, cut off his tongue.

I roll my eyes after a moment passed with no response, "how could you lot forget so quickly? I was literally here with you less than an hour ago, not a whole day!"

I dust off my dirty, leather trousers and stomp my leather boots as I listen to them make excuses.

"It's not me! I caught Gorm hacking at him and I came to help," Ahern replies with his thick Gaelic accent, "I do not ken if he managed to chop his tongue of in the meantime."

I turn to Gorm, placing my hands on my hips, exasperated, "well?"

"I don't remember, if I'm being honest," he replies under his breath, muttering something about drinking too much ale in his Norse mother tongue.

"Fine!" I sigh, turning back to the man on the floor, "shall I check?" I lean down, piping softly, "could you be a dear and just," I bring my thumb by his lower lip, barely ghosting it on his skin, "open your mouth for me? It's truly more for you, if I'm being frank."

For the prolonged while I exchange looks with him, the man seems half compelled to do as I asked out of sheer intrigue. His eyes were still dark, and I yet could tell there was a curious glint behind them, curious and predatory.

"Who's he anyhow? Why can't we kill 'im?" Ahern asks.

Immediately, the prisoner turns away and stares at the large oaf with a look of daggers.

I huff and look over to said oaf, shooting him a similar expression. Ahern's annoyed face, once finding mine, melts into regret.

I roll my eyes, walking towards the discarded weapon on the floor, picking it up, "this is yours, correct?" I turn to our captive, earning silence still.

Ahern answers instead, "that's his alright."

I turn to Ahern, "This is Valyrian steel," I start to explain, turning back to its owner, "and his hair is whiter than your arse cheeks," I hand him the weapon. "He's a Valyrian."

"Hmp," Gorm tilts his head, "I thought he was just old."

I roll my eyes and shake my head, "this is why you should leave the politics to the masters, captain." I turn from Gorm to our prisoner, "and as said master, I say we take him onboard and bring him to our next stop... use him for show."

For a moment, my two shipmates are silent.

"No offence," the ginger rubs his fingers down from his chin to his beard, "but this one would've nearly killed our bright ol' captain if I hadn't stepped in," Ahern says.

"And you would suggest what? We leave him here? We kill him?" I inquired, "you do know that being a Valyrian means he is not only a high born, but a royal, right? And even it were that he is not the most beloved of his line, make no mistake his line will come for whomever made him unable return."

I steal a look from the Valyrian, "we don't even know why he's here, clad in armour."

"Yeah, well no one's gonna know why he ended up missing," Gorm says, yet again making me roll my eyes.

Ahern agrees, "yeah, we've done it once before-"

"Yeah! With that rat and his stupid cunty right hand-"

"And that old geezer! Gods, with the awful beard-"

The two continue to bicker amongst themselves of the exploits we've accomplished, but they all fall deaf to my ears.

"I beg your pardon," I turn to the man who had yet to speak, "they're not very creative and it's impossible for even I to help them with that."

Finally, after a few moments of struggle on the behalf of the captive wanting to break free, we got on board Jocelyn. We had to knock him out and have Ahern carry him over his shoulder to do so though. We tied him up, starboard side, with rope on poles meant for the very job of keeping prisoners.

Right now, I was patiently awaiting his return to consciousness.

I fiddled with my necklace, retracing the emblem on the reflective red rock with my fingers. I was sat by the edge of the ship, watching as the salty waves crashed against the hull.

I couldn't help but break into a smile upon hearing the man behind me curse and groan. It was nearing the sunset now, so he was lucky the sun was not too bright for his newly opened eyes.

I turn from where I sat, and hop in front of him, slightly raising my head to meet his face, as he was taller than I, "so you do have a tongue."

His head shakes as the ship hits a particularly rough wave.

I blink at the bloodied side of his head and purse my lips before telling him, "if you hadn't been so difficult, I wouldn't have had to hit you with my hilt."

He grinds his teeth then clenches his jaw, clearly not in the mood for my shenanigans, evident in his attempts to pierce me with his glare.

I place my hands behind my back and lean forward, "you're bleeding. Just say the word and I'll clean you up," I raise a finger, "and even feed you. Supper is almost ready."

He speaks nothing still.

I narrow my eyes at him, anticipating some sort of bite in his vernacular, since he did hold the looks of someone who basks in chaos.

Gorm especially made it a point to whine about how confrontational and short tempered he had had been, and how they quickly escalated into a fight because of the silver haired man's brazen words. Of course, Gorm omitted mentions of any sort of offence he did to our captive. He didn't have to say anything for me to know he's most definitely guilty of riling the Valyrian up just as much though.

I make an exaggerated expression, "I am afraid I'm being quite serious about asking for your permission before doing anything to you," I lean closer, "before touching you. Consent, to me, is important, for anyone who touches me without it loses their fingers one at a time."

The man's expression is blank, yet I could see a fire building in his violet eyes. I chuckle, excited over his brewing vexation.

Upon the impact of another crash of waves, I bend my knees and rock with the movement to remain upright. My hair flies up to the man's face as a gust of wind accompanies us. I push the strands behind my ears, exposing my collarbones further, practically drawing in the man's gaze to the area. I bite my lower lip as I watch him examine my skin and the necklace laid upon it, "perhaps you'd be more willing to speak of another topic? Shall you prefer to ask me something about myself?"

I move back and sit on the side of the ship again, this time facing him.

He was stretched out like a starfish, arms and legs in thick rope, and I could only imagine how uncomfortable he must be, especially since he was still clad in his armor. Oh, how I wonder, with how good he looks in it, how much better he would look without.

After another moment passed with only silence, I decide to speak instead, "your crest. It is similar to the king's." I think of how badly I want to retrace it with my fingers.

His head wobbles again because of the waves.

"I reckon you could be a prince, considering your attire. It would make sense, considering how much gold Ahern got out of you. But then again," I take a moment before continuing. He seemed exasperated and awfully done with it all. Though he had an air of composure around him, with how he was clenching his fists and possibly curling his toes underneath his shoes, he looked like he was about to snap. I smirk deliciously, thinking of nothing else than a way to make him burst, "perhaps you are just so desperate to pass off as a Targaryen."

"Not as desperate as you are to converse with me," he finally responds, though in High Valyrian.

I purse my lips in a small, thoughtful smile, and cross my arms, "I am not the desperate one on Jocelyn," says I in the same language.

He conceals it well, but I could tell he was not expecting me to understand, let alone respond.

For a moment, the two of us stare each other down. If he could, he probably would have lit me on fire with his gaze by now.

"Supper is here," chirps Aldora, walking towards me with a hot dish of food. She dreamily smiles ear to ear as she hands me a bowl.

I smirk back at the shorter woman as I take the food from her, "thank you, my love."

"May I?" she peers up at me with a longing expression.

"You may," I offer my hand, "but what of our Targaryen scum?" My eyes flick over to the said man as Aldora takes my hand and hops up next to me, "what shall he eat?"

Aldora frowns, seating herself snugly close to me, "he's a Targaryen?" She pulls her lips in disgust as I nod. She then presses her lips in an uninterested pout, "matters not. He is our prisoner and dangles on our mercy."

I click my tongue at that, "now, my love, I taught you better than to leave your bed pets hungry," I retort, hopping off in front of the said Targaryen, managing not to spill a drop of food.

Aldora is offended, "you cannot bed him!" She whines, "you are promised to me tonight."

I chuckle, "I jest, love," I turn back to her and give her a quick flying kiss, "still," I turn back to the man and scoop up some food, "I would enjoy it if he joined."

I bring a spoon up to his lips. His jaw clenches slightly as he looks down on me.

"I WOULD NOT!" Aldora exclaims, jumping down behind me. Swiftly, I turn to her, seeing her cross her arms with teary yet angry eyes. She roughly stomps off, thunder and lightning following her.

I can't help but chuckle in amusement, calling out, "Aldora, my love! Do not be cross!"

Ahern, who Aldora shoved right past, huffs at the contact then bellows out, "it'd do you good to get used to it!" He then turns and makes eye contact with me, "she's got a thirst that not even all seven seas can quench."

After a moment tension, Ahern snaps out of his trance and turns back to the direction of my quarters where Aldora locked herself up in, "last time, she left me for you! Imagine how I felt."

"AT LEAST IT WASN'T FOR A PRISONER!" Aldora screams.

"Aye, and a prisoner one time," Ahern mutters, walking off somewhere else in the ship.

"My arm is starting to tire," I speak to the prisoner.

"Both mine are," he quips back, making me chuckle in excitement over his harsh tone.

I put the spoon down on the bowl and raise a brow, "what would you have me do?" I watch his expression then decide to take a bite of food myself. He reverts back into his silence. A brow of mine quirks up in expectation.

When he does nothing but glare, I lose interest, "right."

I crouch down and place the bowl in front of him, nudging it back in place with my boot when it moved around the floor, "tell me when you're finally interested. Then, I can keep you locked up in my quarters instead of here." I stand up and give him a smile, "til then, Targaryen scum, I must pacify Aldora, lest she threaten to throw herself into the sea again."

The said Targaryen only watches as his unhinged captor walks away and enters her quarters. It was not long until the seas calmed, the sun set, and his, along with everyone else's ears were filled with lewd, loud, and wanton groans and cries of womanly pleasure.

His eye twitches as he looks down at the bowl of food in front of him.

The next day, I am munching an apple in front of the silver haired man, yet again waiting for him to wake up, only this time from his sleep.

Our captain, Gorm, who had been watching me watch the prisoner finally decides to walk over.

"Might I?" he asks me before coming closer. I, who was leaning against the side of the ship reach my hand out to him, and take another bite of my apple, wordlessly allowing him to approach me.

He takes my hand and firmly pulls me against him, wrapping his arm around me, securing them under my breasts. I place my arm over his and I continue to finish the rest of my apple.

Gorm leans against me, bending down to match my height, muttering in his mother tongue against my ears, "I don't understand your intrigue. He is hideous compared to me."

I chuckle as I chew before responding in Norse, "you vikings made sure to steal all the pretty women from their husbands," I lean against his chest and crane my neck up to look at his face, "you're wrongfully boasting about your good looks." I take a moment to examine in his blonde hair, blue eyes, and thick lashes, giving his lips a quick peck, then turning away, taking another bite of my snack, "and, he's not so bad. Much more cunning than you could ever be."

Gorm huffs at that, face sinking to my shoulder, pressing a rough kiss on my skin, "he doesn't know what you like."

I giggle at the ticklish feeling, "and I wager he'll learn much quicker than you ever could."

He is fully offended, and releases me abruptly. He then spits at the Targaryen's direction. Lucky for the latter, it misses his face by a hair and lands in front of him with a disgusting splat sound.

It was in this moment, I realize that man was already awake. I excitedly perk up at the sight of his open eyes, "good morn, Targaryen scum!"

He only looks at me again, completely annoyed, face wound in tension, ready to kill.

I smirk at him, "oh don't be so grumpy. If you must know, you are not special to the title scum," I walk over to him, clarifying as I get on my toes and move back and forth, "I think all monarchs and nobles are such."

He watches me as I take another bite of my apple, "hungry, my pet?" I ask as I move the fruit to his lips.

As if on cue, I hear his stomach growl. I decide to ignore it for his sake, although I am sure the involuntary act his body betrayed him with only added much more to his sour awakening.

I instead explain, "I will not feed you if you do not ask me to, for why should I force you when I know how much more effective it'd be to persuade you," I turn between him and my apple, "especially since I, too, am a master of that craft."

The Targaryen scum does not respond in the manner in which I wanted, "where did you steal that?"

My lips quirk at the accusation as I watch his eyes lock on my ruby necklace, "you think so lowly of me, Targaryen scum. This is the only thing on Jocelyn that is truly mine."

Jocelyn? He huffs, asking again "where are you taking me, insolent wench?"

I huff, rolling my eyes, "boring." I release a sigh, "still, if you must know, we're heading west. It's quite pleasant there in this time of year."

The man seems a bit pacified with my answer and I detest it. I click my tongue, "you are too eager to escape, yet you've no idea whose ship you are aboard."

He tilts his head, "you called that nitwit captain."

I cross my arms and shrug, turning to Gorm for a second then back to him.

"It's his ship," he decides.

I bite my apple, then reply, muffled, "does the captain normally own the ship?"

He quips back with his own question, "does the king own the castle?"

I give him a look, "well, that doesn't matter," I reply, "he's the king."

The Targaryen decides to speak to me again in his native tongue, "my sword holds the strength of his king's army behind it."

I chuckle at that, looking down to his hips, where his sword would have been, had I not locked it up with the rest of my spoils, "I see no sword, nor army behind you at all," I look back up to him and step forward, replying in High Valyrian, "you are nameless to me."

His face contorts at that.

I am awfully excited by this. I swirl my tongue across my lips and chuckle.

"Untie me and I will name myself," he responds.

I can't help but throw my head back in laughter, fully amused by how much weight he puts on the revelation of his mere name. Still, the spark behind his eyes makes my stomach churn deliciously, so I say, "I will untie you, if you swear not to touch me without my approval."

He weighs the seriousness of my words. He does not respond, and I am honestly surprised he did not just lie to me just to get what he wanted. I was not stupid enough to think his silence as agreement, and yet I was so eager to see what he would do, to feel him against me, even though I knew his touch would be nothing but attempts to hurt me as hard as he possibly could. It however set a ripple of excitement down to my core. I quickly decided I was ready to be hurt and began to bring my hands up to his left arm. I quirk a brow up, asking, "may I then?"

He again does not respond, but this time, I say, "I will assume you agreed with me, darling."

It work on untying one of his hands. His arm tenses under my touch.

It does not take long before someone catches me in the act and scolds harshly, "OI! DO NOT UNTIE HIM!"

"Or what, Fredson? You'll kill me? He'll kill me?" I chuckle, "good. I cannot stand your snoring."

"Captain!" someone tattles.

There is a moment of commotion then Gorm, fuming, shouts, "YOU WILL NOT UNTIE HIM!" He begins to storm over from the far end of the ship, "I will cut his arm off if you do!"

Continuing to work on the bind, almost fully untying it, I mutter, mostly to myself, "I don't understand how that is a threat to me."

By the time Gorm manages to get here, it's too late. The Targaryen scum already darted his hand to me and struck me across the face with all his might, or at least what was left of it from being tied up so long. Make no mistake he was still strong though, as I literally went spinning on my heels, seeing stars.

Next thing I knew, I was barely conscious yet conscious enough to feel his hot breath against my cheekbone. He had me pressed against him, his arm was around me, choking my neck.

I whine, breathless, bothered, increasingly turned on. I lick my lips and taste blood. I moan after I hear him mutter in High Valyrian, "you are a fool in thinking I would not hurt you."

I barely manage to wheeze out a chuckle, "I wanted you to hurt me."

He does not respond to this as Gorm is barking out multiple long threads of threats, demanding his attention. The rest of the crew is circled around the us, ready to watch whatever is going down next.

The man holding me captive barks, "do you doubt that I could break her neck?"

"No, but think she would enjoy it," Gorm retorts, face contorting.

I choke out a chuckle but it ends with a cough. The blood on my philtrum sprinkles in front of me because of it.

"I may not be bright, but neither are you for thinking you can get anything out of killing her other than yourself getting killed right after," Gorm states.

The Targaryen quickly realizes the rashness of his actions, agreeing internally he was getting nothing out of this. It was especially clear to him or, perhaps the exact opposite of clear, when he was hit from behind, effectively getting knocked out again.

Instantly, my chokehold is freed and I inhale sharply, coughing out in my hasty attempts to catch my breath.

After my lightheadedness faded a bit, I look up and find Aldora to be my savior. With her angry expression, she heaves as she grips a rock, knelt atop of a barrel. She drops the stone to the floor and makes a face at me, "still into him, love?"

I straighten myself up and watch as blood drips form the Targaryen's forehead, "are you doubting me?"

Aldora growls in annoyance and storms off yet again.

I lick what's left of the blood on my lips and turn to Gorm, who is glaring at me in distaste. I tilt my head to the the other light haired man, "unbind him."

"You fucking-"

"We're nearing our destination. We can't possibly leave him tied up, bleeding, and dirty," I retort, "and as you said just now, you are not bright enough to understand most things, so instead of using your head, use your hands to do as I say."

Gorm grips his fists tightly and clenches his jaw. I stare at him, awaiting his compliance. He does just that, albeit begrudgingly, and once he moves, I walk off and mutter, "by the way, tell Ahern it's his turn to be captain now."

When the captive finally woke up after yet another brutalizing, he was met with darkness, or rather, he quickly gathered, a dark prison cell.

"Good, you're awake," I smiled, looking over to him from the other side of the cell where I sat, "again."

The man that was sitting with his arms on his lap when realized he had something on his head.

"It's the last of the ice that hadn't melted yet," I tell him, hand through the wooden bars, holding a wrapped chunk of ice to his skull, "it helps with these injuries. Though since you're supposedly a dragon, perhaps this is uncomfortable for you."

He groans, slowly turning to me.

I pull my hand away, only to bring the ice down to his lap, "once again, you tired my arm."

He turns to the ice and places it back on his head as he moves to stand. I rise too, much quicker than he, then purse my lips in a small smile, "come now. Honor our deal. I should like know what to moan out next time you think to choke me."

He finally stands, his free hand slamming on the bars as he got his footing, "I am a prince of house Targaryen, you mad wench!"

I knit my brows at him, "I'm thinking you might not be as smart as I gave you credit for. I asked for your name, not your title."

"Let me out of this cell and I swear I will spare you to annoy another sorry bloke on your next expedition," he grunts.

I make a sound in thought, half faux-thinking about it, half enjoying how quickly his lips loosened after taking another hit, "I don't like that deal," I decide, instead showing him the elixir I had in hand, "how about you tell me your name and I give you this."

He leans against the bars, looking out at me.

"It's moonshine."

He pulls away, instantly uninterested.

"Mėnulio distira," I mutter, renaming it, or rather calling it for what it is, "it's used now to help women with labor pains, but it was first made-"

"Made to help warriors heal from their battle wounds," he continues, interested again, "where did you get that?"

"You have no sense for bartering, Targaryen scum," I reply to him in his mother tongue.

He discards the melted block he held, and leans both his hands on the bars, peering down at me, "Daemon Targaryen," he starts, "Prince of Dragonstone."

I raise my brows at that, chuckling, "an ambitious title to covet, Daemon."

He words out carefully, as if each syllable that left his was laced in flames, "I am heir to the iron throne."

"Ooooh," I blow out and end with a giggle, "that would have been true had the king not named his daughter, Rhaenyra, successor."

Daemon's face darkens at that. His ears ring upon realizing there was knowledge of this on the ship, and yet nothing of him. He suddenly felt as though he was toyed with.

I coo at him, "find no offence in my lack of knowledge of you, Daemon. -"

"I am your prince!"

"- I only know of this news because it was so exciting that a woman would succeed after a long line of raggedy old fucks."

Daemon seethes with venom, yet a sardonic smirk adorns his lips, "and you think my niece will empower impertinent, common whores like you?"

My jaw tightens at that. I lick my lips, pressing my tongue on my top front teeth, "it's funny how you wish to taint me by calling me a whore, and yet," I release an airy chuckle, "it's men like you that degrade women to be perceived as such. It's your filthy, little cock that is devaluing."

It's his turn to laugh, "you act as if," he steps closer, hands going to his side, "you were not so eagerly lusting after my" he raises his brows, "filthy, little cock moments ago."

I choke on my saliva as I laugh.

Daemon watches me and cannot hold back the curving of his lips.

I slap my hand on my chest as I attempt to catch my breath, "you are the most amusing man I have ever met."

"I am closer to the gods than man," he retorts, "you'd be wise to remember, bitch."

"You know," I raise a hand at him, "out of all the kinks and the thousand ones I have, this is the only one I don't."

The man smirks, leaning down to see my face clearer, "worry not, I'll break it into you."

I smile back at him, raising the vial in my hand, "I like a challenge," then throw the object to him.

He catches it with ease and looks up at me with a calculating gaze.

Before I could tell him anything else though, Gorm comes thundering down towards us, "that bastard better be alive, or else he'll be food for the kraken."

"Gorm!" I chirp, smiling at the blonde man stomping over, "he's well awake, but just to make sure everything goes smoothly during dinner, I gave him the elixir."

"You fucking what?" Gorm does a double take, raising a hand.

Daemon, in this moment, looks at the bottle in his hand and begins to waive his doubts on it.

I shake my head and shrug, "we can't really use him if he's fucked up in the head, now can we?"

Gorm breaks into a fit and releases a string of Norse cusses. I raise my hands in an attempt to calm him. I don't manage to place my palms on his shoulder as he raises his own and fists them, growling in frustration. He darts his hands to the bars and growls, "give me the vial!"

Daemon, at this point, uncorked the vial and downs the liquid in one go.

In that moment, Gorm sighs, releasing all the tension in his body, defeated. "May I?" I mutter as he nods on instinct. I place a hand on his shoulder and smile up at him, "I told you. There's nothing to worry about."

Gorm takes a moment to respond before breaking into a chuckle, "you're too cunning for your own good. What if he dies before we manage to break into Suston's treasury?"

Daemon knits his brows upon hearing that.

"I'm pretty sure he won't cause delay since he's adamant about being a prince and all. It's his death anyway."

"His death?" Daemon repeats, "who's death?"

Gorm looks over to him, as do I, then knits his brows, "what? Was I the one that drank the poison willingly?"

Daemon's eyes quickly dart to me. I turn to Gorm, chuckling, "stop pretending to be witty when you're nervous this dinner will last half a day long."

"Well it could!" he whines and groans simultaneously.

I make a face at that, just as Daemon asks in High Valyrian, "did you fucking feed me poison?"

Gorm looks at him, stupidly and annoyed, "what did he say?"

"He asked me if I fed him poison."

Gorm scoffs, "you drank the poison yourself, Targaryen scum."

Daemon's eyes flicker over to Gorm, tenfold not enjoying how the insult rolled off his tongue. It was poison all along. Daemon shoots me a look, sighing, releasing an angry string of curses, to which I give a soft smile and shrug.

"Calm yourself, pet. As you've overheard you have half a day until it actually does anything. In the meantime, you can help us if you want to get the antidote."

He replies in his native language, "what makes you think I'd be willing to do anything you tell me to do?"

I blink at him and shrug again, "then die."

Gorm begins breaking a sweat, "but you said the King-"

"There'll be no way for the King to know who poisoned him. Unless he gets smart and finds something on this ship distinct enough to bind to us."

"Like your pretty necklace," Daemon notes, eyeing the jewelry around my neck. He leans on the bars.

I look down to my chest and find myself chuckling, "but you said it was stolen."

"But you said it wasn't," he retorts, "regardless, at this point, many have seen you in your flashy accessory." The prince sticks his hand out through the bars and I smile. He is more cunning than what he let on.

I don't hesitate and yank the jewelry off me, throwing it over to him. He again catches the object easily and observes the rock on a golden chain, swearing to himself for the nth time since first seeing it on the piece of jewelry that he's seen it before, and yet he cannot recall where.

"Now that all's fair," I sigh, "I'll let you out of your cage and-"

"Wait, how is all fair?!" Gorm asks, face souring in confusion.

"Gorm!" I sigh, "He just agreed to help us, since he can't do anything anyway. I gave him the necklace so that if we let him die, the king will find a way to find us," I turn to Daemon, "if they manage to find his body."

"But we won't let him die!" Gorm retorts, "he's got too much leverage on us!"

I roll my eyes, exasperated, moving to unlock his cell, "I'll explain it to you when you're older."

"Do not be so comfortable with the idea of riding with her," Ahern says, arms crossed, as he adjusts the straps on the horse Daemon is mounted on.

He, who was on the steed, now clean and in fresh, noble attire, looks down at the man and gives nothing but a blank expression, "don't be so bothered by the idea of me riding her."

Ahern snaps his gaze onto him, "you fucking cunt-"

"Why is he on the horse?" I ask, dropping the skirt I held, giving both men a look of annoyance.

Daemon, in this moment, became acutely aware of the scenery. The ship, Daemon learned was named Jocelyn, was resting in the dock. The sun was setting yet again, creating this warm orange atmosphere. I was no longer in trousers and a dress, instead, I was in a deep red dress, with the neckline dipping teasingly, deliciously low. Usually, my necklace would be the cynosure of my outfit, but it was currently in the Targaryen scum's pocket.

"I am your husband," Daemon recounts that detail of the plans we made, "I would not insult my lady wife by letting her do all the work."

I narrow my eyes, ignoring him, "where is my carriage, Ahern?" I ask the red head, making him avert his gaze elsewhere. He clears his throat and starts, "well..."

"Well?"

"We lost it."

"You lost my fucking carriage?"

Ahern finally turns to me and bursts, "it was Gorm's fault! I've only just been captain today! He said there was an issue in the stables and some thieves came and-"

My sigh cuts him off. Rolling my eyes, I turn to the man propped on the horse, observing the careful look he had, "I should do the work since my husband and my men have no idea what they're doing."

Daemon's lips smirk as he extends his hand out to me, "you need only tell me where to steer my steed."

I stare at him for a long moment, shaking my head as his lips curve deeper, "pull me up, my lord husband."

His stomach ignites at that, twice as much as arms wrapped around him. In fact, his entire body was churning ever since that moment.

When we arrived to our destination, a private banquet held by Magnus of house Suston in his estate, I changed character, holding my head up with grace, practically skating instead of walking.

Daemon could not mask his astonishment of me, though he was trying quite hard to. From the way I unmounted the horse, to how I casually greeted every servant we passed, it was clear to me he was taken aback by how easily I played the part.

And so dramatically, just before we entered the banquet hall, Daemon grabs my arm and pulls me close to him to a stop, "who the in the name of the gods are you?"

I look up at him then to the hand he had on me. Daemon turns to the skin he was holding then releases me. I clench my jaw, clicking my tongue, bringing my hands to his face, "may I, husband?"

He knits his brows, still seemingly unable to understand my need to continuously ask for permission before touching him. Still, his face softens, then he says, "I am yours, wife."

I brush my hands on his cheeks, gently, tracing the curve of his jaw, "I told you as we recounted our plans for tonight on the ship that I was invited as a lady of an esteemed house. Once I put a dress on such as this, I am just that," I pull a smile, "which is why I will not cut your finger off."

Daemon is not satisfied with the answer.

I sigh, pulling my hand away, "I thought perhaps you would have figured out by now, since you have my necklace in your pocket," I begin to walk off, eyes still locked in Daemon's, "I am the heir of house Rubin."

Daemon's jaw loosens at that, that's why the crest looked familiar.

I smirk, knowing well that his shocked expression was due to the fact the very house I was speaking of has not stood for about as long as I have been alive. Or at least, not in any way that counts.

"Lady Rubin!" the man, who was seated at the head of the table exclaims the moment we walk in the banquet hall.

I smile at him, "sir Magnus Suston!"

I walk over to him, forcing back a look of disgust at his eagerness. I stop a few steps early since he took it upon himself to walk over and raise his hand out to me.

Daemon watches as I uncomfortably take his hand. Magnus places a kiss on my skin a second too long that I rip my hand away.

He is unbothered as his eyes dart to the man by my side, "and who might this be?"

I turn over to Daemon, "this, sir Magnus," I turn back to him, "is my prince husband," I pull my smile wider, "of house Targaryen."

Magnus' face falls as he releases a gasp, utterly baffled, "y-your grace! Your majesty!" He breaks into a loud and nervous chuckle, "I was unaware you would be gracing our company tonight. I-I-I am honored by your presence."

Daemon hums, annoyed by his squeaking, "yes. My lady insisted on honoring her visit to your," he looks around the place, "dwelling. Yet it was beneath me to allow my wife visit a man in these hours by herself. Impertinent of you to ask for her presence at this time, don't you agree?"

"Ye-yes, of course," he starts, fidgeting, "I was completely unaware the lady was wed, I-"

"Thought you had a chance with her?" Daemon blurts, raising a brow.

"I- I-" Magnus attempts to start but could not possibly continue with how absolutely petrified he was under the prince's gaze.

The prince turns to me, uncaring of the other person, "shall we sit?"

I give him a smile as he pulls the chair out for me.

Magnus mutters something about us sitting and making ourselves comfortable but it's all incoherent, and his words only become clear once Daemon is sat down next to me, "tis not Marcus, your eminence... but Magnus."

Daemon turns man across him, face completely uninterested and annoyed.

Magnus tugs on his collar with his finger, clarifying, "my name, your grace."

"Does it matter how I refer to a low born?" Daemon asks, leaning against the chair, raising his nose.

I purse my lips at that, turning to my side, crooning out, "my love."

The sound is ineffable and absolutely delicate to Daemon's ears. He was unable to hold in his surprise, nor the chuckles that came after. He clears his throat in an attempt to calm himself, "my apologies, my love," he continues in High Valyrian, "but he's got his head too far up his arse for a peasant, no?"

"He is not a peasant since he now owns a large expanse of land," I retort in the same tongue.

"Well, he won't for much longer anyway," Daemon replies, turning to the empty cups before him. He reverts back to our common language, "will you not serve me wine, Mark?"

Magnus shoots up from his chair, taking a jar of wine and circling over to pour Daemon a cup. He then moves to pour me a drink, but Daemon promptly blocks him, hand covering the cup, "will you not even ask her if she wants wine? She could be with bearing my child for all you know."

I turn to Daemon's enraged look, pressing my thighs together under my skirt before consequently crossing them over each other.

"I- ah," Magnus starts, reeling backward, "apologies my lady, I-"

"She is not your lady," Daemon retorts, face twisting at the man's trembling squeaks. The prince lowers his gaze upon me, expression calming but a fraction, "would you like a glass of wine, my love?"

I break into a smile, "might I just drink from your cup instead?"

He wastes no time. He grabs his cup and hands it over to me. With my lips curved in a smile, I take the object from him, and after taking a sip, handed it back to Daemon, who promptly downed it contents. Upon placing the cup back on the table, he looks over his shoulder, annoyed by the lingering presence, "you stand there and yet we have no food on the table still."

Magnus' eye twitches as he grips the pitcher with much force. He scurries off back to his seat and paces back and forth, unknowing if he should sit or run off somewhere, "my deepest apologies, your grace. Usually my servants do not take this long."

And as if on cue, there is a piercing shriek from the distance.

Magnus gasps, already on edge, completely taken aback by the noise. He stutters, sitting down tensely, "wha-t- what was that?"

Daemon takes his cowardly expression, noticing him shiver. He raises his brows, "is that not one of your help? Are you so stupid to not even know where the sound is coming from?"

Magnus covers his head in fear as there is a loud crashing sound followed by grunts and more shouts. He turns to us, looking for some sort of comfort, but is met by only my stoic gaze and Daemon's vexed one.

All at once then, the banquet hall's doors burst open with a loud sound, and Gorm, followed by the rest of our crew walks in with plates of food. The tall blonde stills when he sees the shriveled up man of the house, "you still haven't killed him yet?"

Magnus grips his chest as he involuntarily stands and screams, "WHO ARE YOU!? What have you done to Helena?!"

Gorm, who was holding an entire pot of what I assume was stew, moves to place the food on the table and draw his sword. Upon doing so, Magnus runs over to the wall in fear. He halts where a sword was mounted. He grabs it and screams, holding it up in his defense, "get out of my house! All of you! GET OUT!"

Gorm walks over to the terrified man, ready to behead him, but he is stopped my Daemon, who quickly stands, "no." The Targaryen turns to him and raises his hand, wordlessly asking for Gorm's weapon.

Gorm looks down on the shorter prince, then scoffs.

"Give it to him, Gorm," I say.

Magnus' breath hitches, seemingly only now realizing what was happening, "you treacherous whore! You brought them here?!"

Daemon turns to Magnus as the latter screams with tears staining his face, "and, what? This is the prince of the realm? You lying piece of-" he is unable to end his words, as he broke into a shriek as Daemon went upon him. Magnus attempts to swing at him, but Daemon quickly knocks the sword out of his hand and promptly ends the squeaks by beheading.

Blood splutters as the body drops to the floor. Daemon makes a disgusted face as he turns back to me. He walks over, handing Gorm his bloody sword. Once he's sat back down, he looks around the room and calls, "where's the fucking food?"

The crew trickle in, laying the food that was prepared by the now dead servants onto the table. Daemon wastes no time in digging in.

I watch as he stuffs his mouth with chicken and say, "you enjoyed that."

"He's a squeaky son of a bitch," he responds in High Valyrian, ripping off a leg of chicken with his hands, placing it on my empty plate.

I look at the food and break into a smile, "thank you."

"Eat up, for I will tire you tonight, wife," he continues in his native tongue, nonchalant, not even looking at me.

I chuckle, propping my hands on the table, ignoring everything else but the eating prince beside me, "I was under the impression you would be leaving the moment we were done."

Daemon swallows the food in his mouth then grabs a piece of cloth on the table, wiping his fingers on it, "I did this much as your lord husband," he turns to me, "might as well claim all that's left of mine."

"I belong to no one, Targaryen scum," I smirk, responding in High Valyrian. He mirrors my expression as I continue, "you will find that your armor and your sword is on the horse we rode on a while ago," I then reach into my top, fingers slipping between my breasts.

Daemon watches my actions intently, hands tightening into a fist.

"All that's left is this," I say, pulling out a vial, "it's a bit warm, having stayed under my breast all night. I hope you don't mind."

He watches as I place the object in front of him, speaking again in his native tongue, "dragons prefer warmth." Daemon stares at the small thing for a moment, then turns back to me, wordlessly examining my face.

After a few moments pass, he brings his hands up, then mutters, in the same language, "may I?"

I nod.

Daemon brushes the back of his hand on my collarbones, making me release a breath at the gentle action. His eyes are stuck on my skin, my own are stuck on his lips. I feel my body burn in warmth as his hands make it to my nape, where his fingers begin to dig into the root of my hair, "you should be more cautions."

I lean against his hand, silently looking at him, as he continues, "House Rubin has fallen decades ago."

The forming smile on my lips falter as he suddenly withdraws from me.

He thinks I'm an imposter. How daft of him.

Still, I cannot help but release an airy chuckle at the look he gives me. I push my shoulders back, "does it matter if a pirate falsifies claims?"

He smirks, then tuts, "oh doe. Any wolf would know you are the very ruby of that house," he brushes the back of his hand on my cheek, making my stomach swirl, "how many souls must have perished to ensure your survival." His hands then move down my neck. He presses his palms flush against my throat, fingers fiddling with my jaw, "and how many more will follow in attempts to covet the very ruby in my hands."

Daemon grows excited, feeling the pulse under his thumb quicken.

Swiftly then, he pulls away then inquires in High Valyrian, "how do I know this won't finish the job?"

Skin still so aware of the feeling of his hand on my neck, I take a moment to realize what he means. I turn to where he was looking and let out a hmp, "how do you know if I even poisoned you truly to begin with?"

Daemon smiles, drawing his hand out again. I anticipated his touch, and yet the tease places it on the table, "you remind me of Caraxes."

"Your dragon?" I ask, just as he moves for the elixir and hands it over to me. He does not speak a word and only stares at me.

I knit my brows, "what? Do you want me to drink it?"

He purses his lips at that, seemingly agreeing.

I raise my brows, taking the object, uncorking it, "and then what? There'll be nothing left for you, moron," I then break into a chuckle, "unless you want me to put it in my mouth and spit it into yours."

Daemon smirks, leaning onto the table as he continues in High Valyrian, "then at least we'll be poisoned together."

I am unable to hold in my laughter, "you're fucking crazy."

Daemon raises his brows.

I stand and step forward, "may I then?"

"So long as I keep getting to touch you," he responds, pushing his chair back. He spreads his legs and rubs his hands on his lap, beckoning me over. I respond my pulling my skirt up and placing a knee on his lap. I bring a hand to his neck and push his head up to me. His hands go to sides and grip tightly on my waist.

I throw my head back, pouring the liquid in my mouth. I close my lips as I lower my head to meet Daemon's. I press my mouth against his, slowly allowing the antidote to trickle onto his tongue. Daemon pulls me down on him and I adjust my legs atop his. He laps his tongue out to my lips, taking in the liquid greedily until there's nothing left but moans in me. It's all very messy as the liquid surely does not all go into his mouth, yet it was so very scrumptious.

"Oh for fuck's sake, get a room," someone calls angrily.

I am abruptly pulled off after this. I barely manage to look at Daemon as he suddenly stands and grabs me, bending down and throwing me over his shoulder.

"They're all fools to think you would not be heard from here," Daemon says, kicking the doors of a room open. It was a great stroke of luck that he found the master bedroom. Not that it mattered, I would let him have me wherever he wanted. And judging by how he threw me onto the bed, I’m certain he thinks the same way.

I sit up on the cushions and watch him as he crawls over to me. His brows quirk at the sight of the blankets, "that squeaky moron has horrible taste."

I waste no time in grabbing his face once he is close enough, placing heated kisses onto his lips. He leans into me, body pressing against mine, hands scratching at the fabric on my back in an attempt to undo my dress.

He pulls away from me so he could work on getting me naked.

I can’t help but laugh at his fervor, “easy, boy, you might hurt yourself.”

I manage to see him clench his jaw before he stands up from the bed and yanks at my corset. He effectively shoves me face down onto the cushion and rips my skirt back so my folded legs were now flat on the surface. He then climbs atop me, groin on my bum, and undoes my laces, ripping it all the way open. Once he’s finished, he digs his nails firmly into my skin in an upward motion, “you will know your place, bitch.”

He moves off me, only to flip me over and climb atop me again. This time around though, he bunches my skirt up and brings his hands in between my thighs, making way for himself in between them.

“I should ruin your pretty little dress, so you won’t be able to use it anymore,” he mutters, pressing his pants on my bare core, earning a moan from me.

I reach my arms out for him as I grunt, “ruin me with your Targaryen seed.”

Daemon brings his hands on either side of my thighs and roughly kneads on my flesh, “you would enjoy that won’t you, little come slut?”

His hands dart to the collar of my dress and he roughly rips it off, causing me to grunt. I shift in my spot, raising my arms, wriggling out of the fabric as he pulls it over my head. For a moment, I am caught in the expanse of my own skirt, then I am fully stripped beneath him. Right after throwing my dress off to the side, my hands work on undoing his breeches, but I am so rudely slapped away.

I give him a pointed look, but it falters after he catches my wrists and pins it over my head with his hands, “I am your prince husband. You are subservient to my mercy.”

His face is close to mine when he says this and so I give an open-mouthed moan, “fuck me good, prince husband, I beg.”

He chuckles. He keeps my wrists under one hand and brings his free one down my face, “so eager,” his palm rests on the side of my neck, “perhaps I shall take you back with me and wife you in Dragonstone.”

Taking this moment of tenderness to my advantage, I attempt to free my hands under his. However, I find that I underestimated his strength. His one hand on my wrists pull my limbs upward, making me whine. He clicks his tongue, “you don’t like that?” Daemon’s other hand runs firmly down from my neck to my core where he then rubs on my soaking folds, “you would prefer to be my come whore, hmm? Such a lowly dream”

He hisses, as do I, when he pushes two fingers in me, “your cunt belongs to me now. You will not be able to have anyone else’s cock but mine.”

I chuckle at his words, “you’re a lot of talk for someone so opposed to the idea of me undressing him.”

Daemon’s eyes darken. He shoves himself off me and kneels, “undress me, then, whore.”

I take in his looks, his expectant gaze, the hardened length beneath his trousers, and yet I cross my arms, “no.”

“No?” he repeats harshly, although there was no trace of anger in his voice. It was in fact of excitement.

“I will not submit to a man who perceives me to be a lesser version of him.”

“Ah,” he chuckles, removing his shirt by himself, “I remember your distaste for this, my dear ruby,” he throws his shirt aside and I lick my lips at the sight of his toned chest, “you are right not to enjoy these words when they came out of the mouths of all the trolls that fucked you before me.

“But like I said,” he grabs my hand from my chest, continuing in High Valyrian, “I’ll break it into you.” He pulls me up, bringing my palms to his waist, “strip me, while you still can.”

I sit up, fingers digging into his garment, replying in his language as I lick my lips, “or else what, Targaryen scum?”

“Or else you won’t be able to do anything with your hands at all.”

I groan at the thought, feeling my stomach roll. My hands then dart up to his face and I heatedly kiss him, savoring the taste of his tongue. My fingers travel back down, fiddling with the string of his clothes. I take a moment to nibble on his lower lip before I pull away and lie back down with my arms over my chest again, “do your worst.”

“You insufferable minx,” he quips proceeding then to climb off the bed. For a moment, I am confused and a little concerned, but then I see him rip at the tassel of the drapes, carelessly bringing the window’s cover to the floor. He winds the rope in his hand as he draws closer to me, “turn over.”

I bite my lips and cross my legs, “no.”

Daemon laughs, darting for my ankle, yanking me towards him, “turn over, my pretty little whore.”

“Fuck you,” I retort.

He wastes no time and roughly grabs me, flipping me over himself. My body is buzzing at the feeling of his rough hands on my bum.

“Not at this rate, you’re not,” Daemon replies, hands grabbing my arms, forcing them behind me, tying them with the rope still attached to the curtain that was dangling near the bed helplessly. He then pulls my hips up, bringing me on my knees. My face pressed on the bed as he climbs behind me and fiddles with my heat, “so deviant for no reason,” he notes in his language.

His fingers tease my entrance, and my voice betrays me because of it, “you—enjoy it.”

He laughs again, pumping two digits in and out of me, “not as much as you.”

Daemon feasts on the lewd sounds, absolutely basking in the slickness dripping from his fingers. He positions his free hand on my hip, digging his nails in my flesh roughly. He focuses on my heat around his fingers and quickly eases in an orgasm. I let out a pained grunt when he withdraws before I could come though. Although I was expecting it from him, I still bark in anger, “Targaryen scum.”

He tuts, rubbing my back, “come now…” he teases, “you didn’t expect to be rewarded for your insolence.”

“I can fuck myself better with my fingers."

Daemon laughs, “I’m sure from now on you’ll imagine they were mine.” He then brings his wet fingers to my mouth, wanting me to lick them clean. For the most part, I do, but he yelps when I bite down. I lick my lips after he pulls away, smirking in victory.

He grabs me by the hair, pulling me all the way until I'm upright. I whine in pain, yet feeling my body burn in excitement. He mutters hotly against my ear, “let’s put that mouth of yours to good use.”

He shoves me down and I hear him work on his pants. I roll over, grunting as with my arms still bound behind me. I chuckle, “who’s eager now?”

Daemon’s length springs free. The idea of him burying himself in me makes my breath hitch. He discards his pants to the side, “you won’t be so verbose after I burn my seed down your throat.”

I stick my tongue out and giggle.

In all his strength, he rearranges me like a doll. He gets me on my knees and sits in front of me, wordlessly commanding me to do his bidding. I obey and take him in my mouth eagerly. His hand is controlling the bobbing of my head and I feel utterly pleased with myself upon hearing his satisfied grunts. After relishing in his profanities, I begin to constrict him in my teeth.

He whines, “less teeth, viper.”

I use more teeth.

His grip on my hair tightens but his arm movement still.

I begin to laugh, but he’s so big that I can’t, so I begin to choke.

Daemon revels in the feeling for a moment, pushing himself deeper into my mouth before ripping me off him, allowing me to catch my breath. I heave as he brings my ruined face up to meet him eye to eye. His other hand grips my jaw, “if you will not obey, I will come in your cunt and leave you bound and unsatisfied.”

I lick my lips, head banging at the pain he was eliciting from all the hair pulling, “you would risk leaving a baby dragon inside me?”

I smirk at him, whining as he pulls my head back slowly. It seems I hit a chord as Daemon’s face is unreadable. Suddenly, he releases his grip and shoves me down. He claws at my legs then presses my knees to my breast. All at once, I am a loud moaning mess as he enters me without another word and beats into me without a break of pace.

The sound of skin hammering against each other is overpowered by my screams of pleasure. If I had known that what it took to get him going, I would have lead with that.

Daemon pistons himself in an angle so sweet that I can feel a fire so hot build in my belly. His lips are latched on my neck, sucking, biting, licking. Overly sensitive already, it doesn't take long until I uncoil beneath him and his brutality.

I am reeling, absolutely spent, utterly boneless beneath him, loosing my breath all over again.

He does not relent however, and I whine in a mix of both pain and pleasure at his lack of courtesy for me to come down from my high. I quake beneath him, repeating his name like a prayer, unsure if I wanted him to stop or keep fucking me raw.

My throat begins to burn at my obscene sounds that left my lips. I barely manage to hear him as he speaks to me

“They say a pleasured wife brings forth a male heir,” Daemon jaggedly mumbles, “will you be a dutiful lady wife and spawn me a son?”

My head is spinning at his words. Too keen on chasing this rebuilding high however, I spew out words in the heat of moment, “yes. Fuck yes. Burn your seed into me. Put a child in me, Daemon.”

“Good girl,” he praises, kissing my jaw, “your cunt is so eager for me, wife, do you feel it?”

My only response is my filthy groans.

My eyes are flooded by tears when I finally come around him for the second time. Daemon wastes no time and follows. He digs himself balls deep into me, shooting out every bit of himself inside. The feeling is so hot, I could barely feel my legs around him nor how my toes curl.

I relish in the feeling of his weight on top me. My arms behind me hurt twice as much as I remember I cannot even touch him.

“You will not move an inch, slut,” he mutters after catching his breath. He pulls away from me and I whine at the action, not enjoying the emptiness that came after. I watch him as he goes about the room and collects his clothes. He begins to dress himself and I stupidly look at him as he mutters, “if you do not fall with child, I will consider it treason.”

Once he is clothed, he walks over to me and turns to my legs. He pushes them together. I squeak when he digs his hands on my leaking core and presses a kiss on my belly, “you’re wasting my seed.”

With that, he gives me one last look and walks away.

Many moons had passed since then. It was almost as long as the years since the prince has been away from his home.

Daemon decided not to recount this encounter with pirates to a single soul, not even to Lord Corlys, who was enraged by his absence and began to believe he had forsaken him in their battle in The Stepstones. He played off his lack of appearance as with vague reasons of failed outsourcing, already irritated by the idea of people gossiping about how he was captured by a bunch of slow witted pirates had he told him the truth. Corlys obviously did not buy it, but he had no time to press on about the matter as the issue with the Crab Feeder was more imminent.

Daemon wonders what became of his captor after killing that Suston man. He would look at the ruby necklace he kept on him from time to time, wondering when he could use it to his capture his captor in return. He had yet to also make use of the fact the pirate claimed to be a Rubin, a house that was dissolved during the height of a war in their region. That, and he was owed a son.

"You look deep in thought, uncle," Rhaenyra notes walking over to him. Daemon had his feet up in the table and his back slumped on the chair as he chewed on some grapes.

He responds to the princess in High Valyrian, "I'm merely enjoying my time back home."

Rhaenyra chuckles, walking closer, "I did not know you were fond of this place."

Daemon watches as she sits down next to him and asks, "tell me about your adventures in the Stepstones."

He shakes his head, "what is there to tell but the fact there was blood and loss, before our eventual victory."

"Come now," she smirks leaning in, "they sing your name great praises and even gave you a title, yet you cannot think to tell me much more than that?"

"War is not a dazzling story, princess," he turns to her, giving a smirk, "you would be wise to be a benevolent Queen."

Rhaenyra rolls her eyes and shakes her head, muttering in her native speech, "the irony of my uncle telling me this."

"But you enjoy my irony, don't you, my niece," Daemon chuckles in response in the same tongue, bringing his hand to her head, ruffling her hair playfully.

She swats at his hand and shoves Daemon off with narrowed eyes, "well if you will not speak to me of your battles, tell me then if it is true you had an encounter with pirates."

Rhaenyra watches his face grows stoic as he mutters, "they were all pirate, girl."

"No," she shakes her head, "I overheard the servants speak about you dealing with a crew who had women onboard. They say you were turned away after asking them for help."

Daemon straightens up as he laughs, not even taking a moment to wonder how anyone even knew this, "more like I turned from them after they'd forced help out of me."

"So it's true, then!" her voice goes a pitch higher in excitement, "you had encounters with women pirates."

Daemon takes her expression in, "does that please you, Rhaenyra?"

"I think it's exciting to know there are fearsome individuals out there who bleed every month just as I."

Daemon blows out a breath that bubbles out into a fit of chuckles. He grabs a few more grapes, eating some, throwing one at his companion, "you're all fucking mad."

Rhaenyra narrows her eyes at her uncle yet again, "you mean all women? We're all mad?"

"Yes," he stands, smoothing out his pants, "but then again if I bled every month I think I would be so as well."

"My Prince," a voice calls, and Daemon turns to the guard who interrupt the laugh he was sharing with his niece, "Lord Corlys has requested your presence."

Daemon's mood does a total 180, "he is aware I am not entertaining anyone."

"My apologies your grace, but he insisted that it was urgent. He says it's about House Rubin."

Rhaenyra watches his uncle's face shift. Daemon's mood does yet another 180 and promptly decided to answer to the call.

He quickly regards his niece and heads off right after.

"Lord Corlys," Daemon nods upon entering his chambers, "you have news for me."

"Nothing that either of us don't already know," says Corlys, arms crossed as he stood by the table where the necklace Daemon had lent him was laid out, "the house of Rubin and all its heirs died during a skirmish, leaving their wealth and land ripe for the pickings of whoever stake their claim."

The prince nods, eyes going to the necklace on the table, "and what of this?"

"I've had a jeweler inspect it and he said he knew exactly who designed this and who had it commissioned."

Corlys and Daemon turn to each other as the former says, "it was made in the north by the request of the Lannisters as a gift for the Rubins."

"And yet I found it on the neck of a pirate," Daemon smirks, picking the ruby necklace up.

"It is not surprising, considering house Rubin was most definitely looted after its fall. They were also situated close to sea folk. Our houses once joined hands in the expeditions of the sea. Hearing of their demise was a sad day even for us."

Funny, Daemon thinks.

"Now, tell me what this has to do with the pirate ship that robbed 2 more of my ships blind."

Daemon's lips quirk, "that makes 14," he releases a chuckle, much to Corlys' annoyance. "What if I told you, Lord Corlys, that capturing the captain of that pirate crew could not only grant you satisfaction but could reignite your alliance with the house of Rubin."

Lord Corlys shakes his head, "and why would I want an alliance with a dead house?"

"Perhaps since it was that house that robbed your countless ships blind."

Corlys does not follow. Daemon raised his brows, "the captain is the remaining heir. Why snuff out the last of its remains when you could built it up and use it as an extension of your power. Your men have seen the might of Jocelyn first hand, did they not?"

For a moment, Corlys wonders who Jocelyn is, until he remembers that was the name of the ship. "What makes you think this Rubin-turned-pirate would swear fealty to me?" he raises a brow.

"Willingly? Perhaps not," Daemon smirks, "but is it not so much more fun to break it in?"

"That is not their captain," Daemon speaks.

Corlys instantly gives the order to execute the man with a simple hand gesture. "Yes," he responds, "yet it seems like they're not running out of captains any time soon as each time we capture someone who knows anything about that ship, Jocelyn, they claim to be the captain. Still, that fucking ship is still lurking the sea."

Daemon's lips curve upward, "perhaps they were captain for a while."

The other white haired man knits his brows, "what?"

The prince ignores this, "your error is in assuming their captain would be an ugly man."

"Are you saying the captain is a beautiful woman?"

"I'm saying the captain of the ship is the remaining heir of the house Rubin," he retorts, "you ought to be more careful of how quickly you kill your captives."

Corlys narrows his eyes at this, "does it matter if we restore this supposed 'true heir' when no one would be the wiser if I hailed a stable boy as a Rubin."

"It matters if you want an alliance with a fiery strategist who managed to steal from your ship, not once, but 18 times now, was it-- in broad daylight, or--" Daemon turns to the dead body that was being dragged out, "you want one with a smelly imbecile that's walking dead weight."

"Then what do you suggest I do, my prince," he asks, voice growing irritated.

"Nothing more," Daemon nods, "I'll do it myself."

"Targaryen scum," I smile, voice genuinely excited upon seeing the face of the man walking over to me. "You got a haircut," I say baring the blood on my teeth as I smile, "I am impressed to tell you that it suits you, even though I prefer long hair."

Daemon takes in my appearance, eyes raking over the blood that was on my face and clothes. He turns over to one of the guards, barking, "did you do this to her?"

The guard quickly shakes his head, "n-no, your grace. But I was told she did attack and injure multiple men."

Daemon's anger is calmed after this, though his face makes no change, "leave us."

Once it was only him, I, and the chains on the wall that I was bound to, he steps forward, licking his lips as he brings his hands up to my face, "may I?"

I look up at him, lips curving into a smile, "you may."

Daemon pushes back the hair that was stuck on my skin with sweat, tucking it behind my ears. He then begins in High Valyrian, "you could not resist me, could you?"

I lean against his hand as he places both of them on my cheeks. I pout, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Daemon chuckles, fingers gently pulling away from my face, "did you not hear about my presence in the Stepstones and purposefully hijacked those Velaryon ships..." he hums, "perhaps out of spite?"

I screw my eyes shut as I break into a hearty laugh, "out of spite over what, pray tell?"

"Leaving you tied up in bed," he mutters, placing his hands behind his back.

"And I am bound now as we speak, yet I share laughter with you," I raise my brows, "must a pirate really explain their motive for stealing?"

"Perhaps not," Daemon responds, turning down to my belly. He presses a hand on it, "how has your womb been?"

I chuckle, "it seems your seed is defective," I narrow my eyes, "there was so much of it in me, and yet nothing came forth from it."

He grabs my face with both hands again, "worry not. I will wife you up again soon enough."

Upon his mention, I recall a detail I learned that angered me. I clench my jaw, replying in High Valyrian, "perhaps it was precisely because you had an actual lady wife at the time that your own seed was against your wishes to get me pregnant."

Daemon chuckles, pulling his hands away, "jealous?"

"No." I respond, "I pity your bride that you treated so poorly."

The prince rolls his eyes, "oh, don't worry, my dear ruby, for the ugly beast has since been relieved of her duties upon her trip to the underworld."

"Fucking Targaryen scum."

Daemon watches my expression grow dark then chuckles, "are you not excited to perform your duties to me?"

"That's why you had my crew gutted?" I bark back, "were you to stupid that you not have tried to get me yourself?"

"It was not my failed attempts to capture the captain, but Corlys Velaryon. He did not take kindly to the fact you stole a handsome sum from him, which is why he made sport of killing Jocelyn's crew."

"Well, he's got the captain now," I say.

Daemon nods, "Indeed, she is here."

"Whatever he wants, I'll do, so long as you spare my remaining crew."

For a moment, Daemon is a bit disappointed by the admittance to defeat, however he understands soon enough.

"There's not much of us left," I mumble, "Aldora, Ahern, Gorm, Fredson, Charles, Th--" I cut myself off as my throat begins to tighten. "There's not point in fighting if we all end up dead."

"Smart," Daemon nods, "Lord Corlys will be delighted to know this." He then begins to walk off, "in the meantime, pay your dues here until I come for you."

I let out a soft chuckle, replying to him in his mother tongue, "petty scum."

"Targaryen scum," Demon corrects before walking out.

I hadn't expected him to come so soon that night, but then again, if I recall, I did have him out of his chains after sunset.

"Miss me already?" I ask in a teasing tone in High Valyrian, "will you lock me with your dragon next?"

It was a bit too dark for me to make out the figure coming closer, but there was something very off with him. There was something about the slowness and suspicious manner in which he stalked over, apart from the hood he was wearing.

I figured then Daemon would not act like this at all. So it begs the question, why would a guard have to come here dressed like that?

My heart began to quicken as I began to think of what this man's motives were. Still, unwilling to accept the worst, I spoke out in the Prince's language, falsely hoping it was him pulling a twisted joke, "is this your way of getting back at me?"

"What kind of demon language is that supposed to be, you cunt?" the man growls, darting forward, heaving heavily in front of me. He grabs my face, and I see him along with the cut he had going down his cheek to his lips, "remember me, bitch?"

I merely look at him as he forces my jaw open with the intensity of his grip on me.

"You're not so tough now that you're under the Prince's thumb," he seethes, hands coming down my neck, choking me, "since you scarred my face, you whore," one of his hands leaves my throat to go down to my thighs, "I'll make you regret the day you drew your blade."

My wrists and ankles were bound but that did not make me cease my attempts to fight back, though futile. And even though he was choking me, I made it a point to still scream, not caring if he asphyxiates me in the process. Better that than to be docile.

He was basks in my failed attempts to fight him off as he rips my top open and forces my trousers down.

Prince Daemon did not want Lord Corlys to join him on his way to the prison cell today for he so wanted all the attention to himself, especially since he couldn't speak in the privacy of High Valyrian, since Corlys could speak it.

And so together, begrudgingly, the two were making their way to the cell. Daemon had a spring in his step. He was so excited that even before entering the prison, he called out in the other language, "rise and shine, beautiful."

Lord Corlys averted his eyes from the guard who was unlocking the door, giving the prince a questioning look. He truly didn't think much of it however, knowing the prince's irritating nature.

Honestly, Daemon was half expecting an answer, an annoyed retort, and so he received none, he pressed his lips together in disappointment. He added once the door was open, "not in the mood to tease today?"

Corlys walks in first, face dropping in shock at the sight before him.

For but a moment, Daemon feels a rush of possessiveness, thinking Corlys must have been enchanted. He thinks of how he would easily cut off his hand if he so laid a finger on you. However, his own anger dissipated, then doubled upon his entrance to the cell.

I look at the two men, wondering how they were related to distract from how exposed I was. My assaulter did not possibly think to cover my chest nor pull my pants up. There was also a burning feeling between my thighs that I could not bare to look at. Anything other than thinking of how my flesh was surely torn was welcomed.

The prince is beyond livid. The lord beside him appears to be disturbed as well.

"Did you have your men do this to her?!" Daemon barks, turning to Corlys, raising an accusing finger as he pressed so close to him in anger that their chests slammed against the other's.

Corlys throws him an incredulous and angry look, shoving him off, "why would I when you were so clear on making sure the lady came here in one piece?!"

He heaves heavily, ready to attack Corlys, but the sound of my uncontained whine makes him avert his attention to me. Daemon then walks over to me instead, raising his hand out, but the sentiment is so uninvited that I bark out even through my hoarse and broken voice. It was so loud I even surprised myself, "DON'T YOU FUCKING TOUCH ME!"

Daemon halts in his tracks before he could go near. His hand drops, tightly turning into a fist, he mutters, "unshackle her."

Corlys does not do anything.

"UNSHAKLE HER NOW!" Daemon shouts, turning to the door, where a guard quickly came running in. The moment the guard nears however, the prince shouts again, "STOP."

The guard freezes, turning over to him with a look of confusion and anxiousness.

"Give me the keys," he demands, pulling the man over to him by his shoulder, then extending his hand out to him. The guard wastes no time in handing the prince the object. Right after, Daemon walks over to me, carefully as if his whole life depended on it. His fingers work on the lock without touching my skin.

Corlys watches as he does this.

The moment one of my arms were free, I crumple, dangling on the other arm that was still bound. Daemon looks down on me as I muffle the whine that comes as I force myself to stand. He quickly moves to the other side, undoing the lock, then crouches down, working on the bounds on my ankles. Once he is done, he rises in front of me, expression hard.

I look up at him before pulling up my pants that were left by my ankles then covered my breasts with what remained of my ragged shirt. He looks like his mind is running with a thousand different things and yet he cannot even bring himself to speak one word to me.

I croak out, hoarse and tired, "now you know why I don't like being touched without consent, Targaryen scum."

Daemon's jaw clenches. His anger multiplies at the notion this has happened once before.

"Lady Rubin," the other man in the room speaks, walking forward.

I turn to him, lips curving in a farce of a smile, "Lord Velaryon." I swallow roughly before muttering, "you, too, were convinced over my characterization yet you have not even seen me in action."

The man looks at me for a moment, examining my expression. He steps forward, untying his cloak, handing it over to me, "will you be able to walk over to the ward to the seen by a maester?"

I look at his extended hand and feel my smile fade, tears building in the corner of my eyes, "of course." I raise my hand to his cloak, gently pushing it away, "lead the way, my lord."

He watches me and withdraws his hand before nodding and tying his cloak back on, "I'm afraid the way there includes an unavoidable flight of many stairs."

"I was not defeated last night, nor will I be defeated by mere steps."

Lord Corlys seems to appreciate my response, and so he turns to prince Daemon, speaking in High Valyrian, "You were right about her fire. She's different from the rest of her crew."

"Thank you, my lord," I reply in the same language, making the man turn to me in slight shock, "I would have appreciated the compliment more had it been directed towards me."

With this, Corlys turns to me, shocked, but impressed. He then shifts where he stood and motioned to the door, then walking off.

I clench my jaw before taking a step. I falter in my actions and am unable to withhold a pained grunt as I do so. It enrages me. I heave heavily. The incident of last night replays in my head uninvited. I will the tears forming in my eyes back where they came and I force through the pain with each step I make.

By the time I make it out of the cell, I see Corlys there, waiting for me. I draw closer to him and it is then I hear a voice behind me, "I will destroy whoever did this to you."

I turn over my shoulder, expecting to see Daemon, but I find no one. When I do manage to spot him, he is already far off in the other side of the hallway.

"The prince was keen on bring you to me," Corlys starts, extending his hand to the direction we needed to travel, "his personal motives are now more apparent to me after seeing how he reacted to you." He begins to walk slowly and I follow after him.

He continues in High Valyrian, "he insisted that instilling you in House Rubin and re-forging an alliance with you as its head will be more beneficial than beheading the captain of ship Jocelyn, who stole ten thousands worth of goods from my vessels."

"It's clear to me the prince does what he wants all the time, but that does not equate to him always getting away with it," I retort, taking a moment to continue, lest I let out a pained whimper, "whether his influence on you will allow me to keep my head or not, all I ask is that you no longer harm whoever's left of my crew. They were only following my orders."

Corlys watches me as I limp in my short strides, then raises a brow, "following the order merits the same punishment of whoever gave it." He places his hands behind him, "they also lied when they confessed to be the captain when they were clearly not."

"I did not ask them to do so."

"A lie is a lie," he says, "Prince Daemon however said that you allowed your crew to take turns giving the order, being the captain for a time."

I clench my jaw, turning to my feet, "they were all born without... it was my way of giving them a taste of power."

I turn to Corlys, but I instantly regret it, for his gaze upon me was most scrutinizing. I turn away just as he tells, "I knew him, the man who you claim to be your father. Estephan Rubin. I would like to say we were friends years ago when he was still alive."

I rub my eyes that were watering in pain.

He continues, "I knew of his four sons and how each of them died in battle, though I repent of not remembering their names. However, my memory does not fail me enough not to know about Rubin having a daughter."

"That makes two of you." I press my lips, turning back to him, "I was told my father died well before I was born. My mother died of child birth."

"Who raised you then?"

"The remaining servants of my house, Agnes, Douglas. They married each other and had children of their own. For a while, I acted like I was their eldest child, but then some lords found out about the origin of birth, and then they--" I shudder, unable to bear the pain of the memory on top of the physical pain I was feeling now. I turn back to my feet, "I was 13 when I ran away and lived off of whatever I could pickpocket."

"Who taught you how to speak this language then?" he asks in High Valyrian.

"You tend to get around when the world is out to get you," I respond, hand coming up to my chest, "what remained of my house, my ruby necklace, it bore the crest of Rubin. I realized all I had to do was be shameless enough when wearing it and people would be willing to do whatever you want."

I turn to Corlys when he halts in his tracks.

"Keep your head then, Lady Rubin," he says, "go forth with your banner, not as a pirate, but as the last of house Rubin and bring me back all twice the amount of which you stole. I swear then I will spare your crew."

I nod, "consider it done," I reply in his mother tongue, extending my hand out to him. He shakes it firmly, beginning to talk about his plans for me as we continue our travel to the maester's room.

#house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen slow burn #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x you #daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen smut #daemon smut #im dead

[fluffyhare]

Like Real People Do, Part 4! ♡ (Casper x Avery)

☁️ Summary: Casper and Avery's relationship grows. Avery comes over to watch a movie that has an unexpected *scene* for Casper. Shenanigans ensue.

☁️ Warnings: Suggestive, very romantic, STUPID gay, the tickles you've been waiting for™, classic Avery teasing -- ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS

☁️ Author's Note: If you feel like I didn't go off the rails enough here, stay tuned because I swear to god, I'm just getting started~

This is a series now!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4 *you are here

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

If you just got here and want to know more about my characters, you can read my comic starting right here!

Avery came to visit me the night after we went to the fair. And the next. And the next. 

Occasionally we'd skip a day or two, if he was working on research late into the night, or if I had after-hours systems testing at my job, but before long we had spent the equivalent of a week together. Then a month. Then two. 

Sometimes I would cook for him, helping him experience all the culinary delights he had denied himself due them being “unnecessary” pleasures. He found most dry food intolerable, but he loved all kinds of soup, fruit, and especially ice cream. I made sure to always have a case of sparkling water on-hand, too, just for him. 

Some nights, he would take me back to his lighthouse and we would spend the evening together there, sipping tea and playing board games on his tiny kitchen table (Avery usually won). We shared affectionate hugs and glances. Sometimes, he would touch my hand across the kitchen table as I pored over how to beat him at cards, making me lose my concentration. He always carried me home before it got too late. 

When we weren't together, we texted; sweet greetings, inside jokes, photos from our lives. We playfully competed against each other for who could make the most bored face while working, or who could take a prettier sunset picture. True to his word, he also texted me when he needed things; strange mechanical parts, books about advanced scientific concepts, refills for his tea cabinet. 

I let him take point and followed his lead, never initiating, allowing him to discover and express his feelings in his own time. He was shy, but he could be playful at times, too – I wasn't sure if he knew it, but his teasing flustered me out of my wits. I was fairly certain he didn't know about… that, but there had been some close calls; a good-natured nudge to the ribs that sent me reeling, or a hug that ended with his fingertips lightly grazing my sides. I recalled one incident at the movie theatre when he whispered a little too close to my ear, necessitating me to hold my breath until he was done speaking. That time, I thought I wouldn't make it. 

It was autumn, my favorite season. I had not grown up around deciduous trees, and I was delighted to watch the foliage in Port Oleander cycle through a rainbow of warm hues. The sun was beginning to set as I stood in my kitchen, gently stirring a pot of homemade miso soup – Avery's favorite – when my phone buzzed. 

What are you doing, dewdrop? 

makin soup for you :3 

Ooh, what kind? 

its a surprise!! 

I'm sure I'll love it. 

Hey, I wanted to ask you something… Do you want me to stay the night tonight? 

“Wow,” I thought. That was a big step for Avery. We'd cuddled a bit before, but not in bed, and we'd never spent the night, either. My heart beat a bit faster. What if I did something embarrassing in my sleep? Would he notice if I wasn't wearing my binder? Would he care? 

I took a bit too long to answer, so he followed with:

If you're not comfortable, I totally understand. 

no!! i would love for you to stay over. my beds not as big as yours but i think it's comfy.

Sounds good! I can't wait to see you, dewdrop. I'm bringing a movie to watch. 

which one!!! 

Hehe… it's a surprise. 

can't wait💙

+++ 

It wasn't long before Avery arrived. As I opened the door, I grinned at the sight of him in his fall outfit. It was the first really cold day of autumn, and he'd worn an alpine sweater, a blue scarf, and jeans instead of his usual slacks. I rushed into his huge embrace, burying my face in his soft chest. He was especially tall and fluffy that day – I estimated he was about six-foot-five (195cm ♡) – which told me he was well-hydrated and full of energy. I inhaled as I nuzzled into his chest -- he smelled like cloves and old books. 

“Hello, dewdrop,” he said fondly, squeezing me close to him and stroking my hair. “It smells wonderful in here." He took a seat on the couch, setting a DVD on the coffee table. 

“It'll be done soon! Are you hungry?”

“Casper, I'm always hungry when you're cooking.” 

I giggled, sampling the soup as I walked over to him. “Is this the movie you brought?”

“Yes, I wasn't sure if you'd seen it, but you said you liked old animated films. This is one of my favorites, so I thought I'd share it with you.”

It was a copy of The Secret of NIMH. It made sense that Avery liked it – understandably, he had a penchant for fringe science and supernatural concepts.

“Oh, I love this movie!” I had a copy of it, too, but it was in storage somewhere. 

I brought two bowls of soup over to the couch. Though I was pleased with how it came out, I wasn't particularly hungry; I was too riled up, thinking about Avery staying the night. I noticed that he'd brought a canvas bag with him. I wondered what his pajamas looked like. I wondered about a lot of other things, too. 

“Ahh, you scamp, this is my favorite! Thank you for making it, it's delicious,” Avery chirped, sipping the clear broth greedily. I never tired of watching him eat; the liquid entering his mouth and then being swept up in the swirling vortex of his head, disappearing in an instant. The hot soup made him steam a bit, little whips of vapor rising from his skin. 

I put the movie in and turned off the light, snuggling into his side. Though his sweater was soft, I wished that I could feel his bare arm instead as he wrapped it around me. His cool fingers rested on my forearm, and I could feel the wind rushing beneath his skin. 

We watched the movie quietly, every now and then making comments on the score and animation of the Don Bluth film.

“Justin reminds me of you,” I said, grinning. 

“Oh, really? Hehe. He is charming, isn't he? He's just like me, for real.” Avery put his hands on his hips and struck a playfully haughty pose, just like in Justin's introduction scene. The temptation to take him down a peg was immense, but somehow, I resisted. 

“Dude, you cannot pull off slang like that at all,” I said, laughing. 

“Got you to giggle though, didn't I?” 

I blushed, but summoned some confidence and fired back anyway. 

“Pfff. Just like Mr. Ages said about Justin, you're a feather-head, too.” 

Avery laughed openly, causing me to get a terrible case of butterflies as he trembled against my body. 

“I can't argue with that,” he said. 

We watched the movie a while longer. The scene with Jenner in the auditorium ended, and the next scene featuring Jeremy started to play. He was tangled up in his string, as usual, and was involved in some banter with the suspicious old shrew, who was admonishing him for sneaking around. She paced back and forth on screen, rigging up Jeremy's string to nearby branches and hoisting him into the air.

Suddenly, I remembered this scene. My body stiffened a bit against Avery, and I felt my ears beginning to flush. Without meaning to, I held my breath. 

The mice kids were calling Jeremy a turkey, and demanding to know where their mother was. One of them jumped on top of Jeremy, clawed fingers scratching his sides as he laughed, crying, “No, stop! You're tickling!” 

Luckily, the scene was over quickly. I exhaled as quietly as possible, but then, Avery paused the movie. My heart dropped. 

“I've noticed something about you,” he said slowly. 

“Y-yes?” I tried to sound normal. I sounded nothing close. 

“Whenever this topic comes up, I observe a kaleidoscope of emotions from you. You flush, stutter, look away, squirm, and hold your breath. I've let it slide many times, but now, I'm curious. This tickling… has an interesting effect on you that it doesn't seem to have on other humans. 

“I know what tickling is, in theory, but it’s a human behavior that doesn't exist in Cirropa. I'm dying to know what about it gets you so… flustered like this? And why you're so desperate to hide it from me.” 

I swallowed hard, suddenly and painfully aware of every contact point between Avery’s body and mine, especially his fingers resting on my arm. How could I explain this without saying it out loud? 

“Ahh, well, um… it's… I just…” I babbled incoherently. My breath came in short gasps as my fingers and toes grew clammy. 

Avery shifted on the couch, turning to face me. In the glow of the TV screen, his eyes were intense, but there was the faintest hint of a smirk playing around his lips. 

“I am a scientist, you know. If you don't tell me, I'm not afraid to test a hypothesis. But let's clear this up first, at least – does it make you uncomfortable in a bad way? Is it painful for you? I have a feeling it's the opposite… very opposite… but I have to be sure.” 

“Ahh, errrr… no…” 

“No, what?”

“No, it… doesn't make me uncomfortable in a bad way, and it isn't painful.”

“Hmmm… what isn't?”

“What?”

“What isn't painful, Casper?” 

“...” 

“Oh, stars. This ruffles you so badly you can't even say the word, can you? Oh, dewdrop… you know I have to try it, now.” 

Alarm bells went off in my head as I felt my blush flood from my ears, to my cheeks, to the rest of my face. I scrambled backwards from Avery, but with such speed I almost couldn't detect it, he was on top of me, one knee on each side of my hips. 

I screamed. 

“No Avery! Nohohoho plehehehehease don't hahahahaha!”

“My god, I haven't even touched you yet! I hear you saying no– do you really want me to stop?” His smirk was huge now, and I could barely stand to look at him. He knew exactly what he was doing. 

I hid my face in my hands, causing Avery to giggle.

“I knew it! Humans are so cute sometimes! Here, sweetheart, I'll give you one last out. If you want me to stop, snap your fingers.” 

A moment of silence passed, my hands still firmly covering my face.

“Hehehe… Alright, then. You quite literally asked for it.”  

With that, I felt Avery's fingertips light on each side of my ribcage. He started softly and deftly flexing them, gently skittering along the sides of my body. 

I'd been tickled plenty of times before, by previous partners and friends. Generally, they were so excited to tickle me, so caught up in a moment of playfulness that they dug their fingers into me… which did usually tickle quite a lot, but it also hurt a bit, too, and made it difficult to enjoy. 

Avery's tickling was entirely different. He was methodical, comprehensive. Playful, but gentle. His fingertips were incredibly soft and dexterous as they prodded and kneaded along my ribcage. Avery worked with delicate scientific instruments, and he tickled like he did, too; it was like nothing I'd ever felt. 

“Ahahahahahaveryyyy!! Hahahahaha!” I cried, squirming beneath his fingers, my unrestrained hands grabbing uselessly at his forearms; he was so strong, it didn't seem to phase him in the slightest. 

“Hehehe, you are so sensitive to this! Oh, this is so cute, Casper! If I had known you liked this sooner, I would have already played with you like this so many times. I wonder where else you're ticklish? If we go by evolutionary theory, it would probably be a vital point, like here,” he teased, his soft fingertips moving from my ribcage to the sides of my neck, his cool fingers gliding merrily along my bare skin. 

I blushed so hard, I was sure my whole body must be red. 

“AAAHAHAhahahaha!” I squealed, reaching my hands up to protect myself. I could feel moisture beginning to bead in the corners of my eyes. Avery's fingertips tickled so much, it was like an eclipse for my mind, blocking out any thoughts and leaving only the delicious torture of sensation. 

Avery stopped, looking down at me with concern. 

“You're starting to cry, are you okay?” He asked, his brow furrowed as he reached out to cup my hot cheek in his soft palm, gently wiping my tear with his thumb. 

“Hehehe… I'm okay, Avery… I cry when I laugh sometimes,” I said, placing my hand reassuringly over his. His cold skin was a relief, as I was already starting to sweat. 

“Hmm… if you do things like cry, and say ‘stop’ out of instinct, how will I know when you're ready for me to really stop?” 

“Aheh, well… time for some vocabulary, I guess. That's called a safeword, but safewords don't always work with this, because sometimes you're laughing so hard you can't get it out. I've found it's better to tap out,” I showed him by tapping my fingers on the couch, “but it's always good to check periodically, too.”

“What other words should I know?”

“Well… there is ‘ler’, which means someone who likes to ‘teekay’ other people, and ‘lee’, someone who likes to be ‘teekayed’.” 

“So… does that mean you're a lee?” 

I chuckled; my turn to smirk. 

“No, I'm the ‘secret third thing’ – a switch. Someone who likes both.” 

“O-Oh.” Avery blushed exquisitely. 

“You wanna give it a try?” 

“It does seem like fun…” 

My heart was pounding. “Why don't we move to the bed, then? You can't really stretch out on this couch like I can. You'll be more comfortable there.”

“Hehe… lead on, dewdrop.” 

#tickle fic #tickle fluff #tickling community #casper and avery #like real people do #fluffylore #writing #my fic #romance #tickling #ocs #my ocs

[goforth-ladymidnight]

On ACOTAR Faeries and Names

For some reason, SJM undoes most, if not all, of traditional faerie lore in her books. (I haven't read TOG or CC so I can't comment on those.) The cynical part of me thinks it's because faeries can be difficult to write well, therefore she took the easy route; the more forgiving part of me thinks it's because she set out to explore why humans believed certain myths about faeries, but then lost interest as she spent more and more time in the realm of the Night Court. (Side note: I find it odd that SJM chose to emphasize that the Illyrians are NOT really faeries, whether High or "lesser". I honestly wonder why that is.) Regardless, there's nothing very faerie about SJM's High Fae, etc. except for their ethereal beauty and pointed ears and the fact that they can do magic, I guess.

I've already written about Aging and Lying when it comes to ACOTAR's Faeries, and I thought I'd touch on another aspect of faerie lore that SJM chooses to ignore. (Heh, that rhymes.)

Names.

His [Rhysand's] eyes shifted to my face. “What’s your name, love?” Giving him my name—and my family name—would lead only to more pain and suffering. He might very well find my family and drag them into Prythian to torment, just to amuse himself. But he could steal my name from my mind if I hesitated for too long. Keeping my mind blank and calm, I blurted the first name that came to mind, a village friend of my sisters’ whom I’d never spoken to and whose face I couldn’t recall. “Clare Beddor.” My voice was nothing more than a gasp. ~ACOTAR ch. 26

Clare and her family are killed because Rhys revealed that name to Amarantha, even though he admitted later (in the next book) that he thought she made it up. So, Feyre's fears were not unfounded, but once she is Under the Mountain with everyone else, she is still reluctant to give her name when Amarantha asks for it.

Lucien is even brought forward and refuses to give away Feyre's name. For his defiance, Amarantha orders Rhysand to shatter his mind before Feyre finally gives in and shouts her name for everyone to hear. The Lady of Autumn even repays her sacrifice by helping her with one of Amarantha's "household tasks".

What is the sacrifice, though? It would seem that the only reason Amarantha wants to know her name is because Feyre knows hers, and wants to address her "properly":

“Feyre,” Amarantha said, testing my name, the taste of the two syllables on her tongue. “An old name—from our earlier dialects. Well, Feyre,” she said. I could have wept with relief when she didn’t ask for my family name. “I promised you a riddle.” ~ACOTAR ch. 35

In traditional faerie lore, it is said that names have power, so giving a faerie your name gives them power over you. (It is important to note that they cannot take anything from you. It has to be given.)

There is a scene in Hayao Miyazaki's animated classic in which the young protagonist Chihiro signs a contract to work for the sorceress Yubaba. In a beautifully animated sequence, her signature floats away and into Yubaba's waiting palm. She literally signed away her name. Chihiro is then given a new name in exchange: Sen. By the next day, she has already forgotten her original name and her purpose (freeing her enchanted parents). It is only when another ensorcelled young man gives her the bundle of her old clothes with a card in the pocket (with her name written on it) that she remembers who she was, and why she's there.

I just think it could have been very interesting to give Feyre a similar plotline in ACOTAR. By giving Amarantha her name, she no longer has it, and can no longer remember it. (And since the story is told in first person, it's easier to convey.)

How she gets her name back could be handled in one of two ways: Lucien gives back her name like the true friend he is, or she doesn't remember it until the very end.

If we explore the second option, this is what I'm thinking: Amarantha sought to break Feyre in mind, body, and spirit. The one thing she could never take from Feyre was her love for Tamlin.

“I love you,” I said. “No matter what she says about it, no matter if it’s only with my insignificant human heart. Even when they burn my body, I’ll love you.” My lips trembled, and my vision clouded before several warm tears slipped down my chilled face. I didn’t wipe them away. ~ACOTAR ch. 43

In my Faeries and Lying essay (linked above), I think it would have been more powerful for Amarantha to want Feyre to admit to lying about her love for Tamlin. In the same vein, I think it would be that much more impactful for Feyre to admit that even if she does not know her own name, she knows she loves Tamlin, and that's enough.

It's the one thing Amarantha couldn't take from her. It's the reason Feyre went Under the Mountain in the first place. And most importantly, it's the answer to the riddle. Love. And that's enough.

#my essays #sjm critical #the farther we get from the first book #the less magical it gets #acotar is a better standalone book #acotar worldbuilding #missed opportunities

[mimisempai]

Never ending dance

Summary

Not to be outdone, Aziraphale wants to surprise Crowley as well.

After some discussion about who will drive the Bentley, they head out into the countryside at night.

But sometimes something as simple as stargazing can lead to a moment of intense emotion.

Notes

Extremely grateful to @rins-love-wins for introducing me to the beautiful concept of a binary star system. 

On Ao3

Rating G -  1613 words

They had just left London and were driving into the countryside on a dark night. 

Aziraphale, both hands on the wheel, glanced at Crowley, who was fast asleep. Which was unexpected, considering how the conversation about Aziraphale driving the Bentley had started.

"There's no way you're driving MY car again. Not after what you put it through last time!"

Aziraphale stood in front of the demon with his hands on his hips, "It's not the same, you'll be in the car with me. Besides, you're exaggerating, you're the one who had a problem with the changes, the Bentley seemed pretty okay with it."

Crowley retorted, "Why do you want to drive it so badly?!"

Aziraphale snapped, "Because I want to surprise you!"

This had the merit of silencing the demon for ten seconds before he resumed, "But where are we going?"

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and replied exasperated, "I'm telling you, it's a surprise."

Crowley was silent for a few seconds before he sighed and said, "Okay, okay, but!"

He'd raised his hand when he saw Aziraphale getting excited, "No color changes, no driving under the speed limit, no classical music, and no weird changes like that ridiculous honking."

Azirphale nodded and asked bright-eyed, "And what about the travel sweets?"

Crowley sighed and replied, "I'll allow it. But that's it!"

Thinking back to that scene, Aziraphale chuckled silently as he popped one of the candies into his mouth.

Moments later, he parked on a small, rocky road and turned to Crowley. 

He placed his hand lightly on Crowley's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, saying softly, "Crowley, dear, we've arrived.

Crowley slowly opened his eyes and stretched before looking around. He raised an eyebrow and asked, "Where are we, Angel, and more importantly, what is this surprise?"

Aziraphale smiled mischievously and replied, "Wait and see!" and seeing that Crowley was about to protest, he continued, "Yes, yes, I know how annoying it is, but let me preserve the mystery for a few more moments."

Crowley muttered, "Yeah, well, the last time you said that, it ended very badly."

Aziraphale tapped him on the arm and admonished, "That's not very nice."

Then he opened his car door and said, "Come on, let's get out."

By the time Crowley got out, the angel had opened the trunk of the car and pulled out a plaid.

Crowley, seeing him arrive with the plaid on his arm, chuckled before saying, "You know, it's a little dark for a picnic, Angel?"

Aziraphale nudged him with his shoulder before retorting, "Idiot!" then extending his hand to Crowley, he asked, "Do you trust me?"

Crowley took it and replied quietly, "Always."

He then allowed himself to be dragged along by the angel, who led him to the middle of a field and then spread the blanket out on the ground before exclaiming, clapping his hands, "This is perfect!"

Crowley, confused, not seeing what was so special about the place, asked, "Perfect for what?"

Aziraphale smiled softly and pointed a finger skyward, "Perfect for this."

Crowley looked up at the starry sky, still puzzled. Aziraphale took his hand and began to sit on the blanket, pulling him along, "Perfect for stargazing."

"Star- what?"

Aziraphale made him lie on his back and lay next to him in the same way, taking his hand and repeating, "For stargazing. It's not my field, but I'm sure that's the constellation Ursa Major over there. Well, to be honest, I think it's the only one with Ursa Minor that I know of." He pointed to a star to the right and said, "So I think the North Star is here."

Crowley grumbled, "Amateur..." he took Aziraphale's sky pointing finger and pointed it in the opposite direction and continued, "Polaris is there."

Then he let go of the angel's hand and swept his hand across the sky, stopping a little further south and explaining, "Angel, if you want to find constellations and stars other than the obvious ones, you must first find the Lyra. You see, this little constellation is made up of several remarkable stars, including Vega, which is exceptionally bright. During the summer months, Lyra is easily visible and can be used as a guide to find other constellations."

Aziraphale smiled, pleased to see that the demon had gotten into the game and was now passionately describing the starry sky above them.

Crowley pointed to one of the stars and continued, "As I was telling you, here's Vega, it's distinctive blue color and brightness make it stand out, and it was once considered the star of the north celestial pole, and its brightness was used as a standard to calibrate the brightness of other stars. Vega is part of the Summer Triangle, along with Altair and Deneb, each of which belongs to its own constellation. And so on you can see other constellations."

Aziraphale couldn't help but stare at Crowley's profile as he described each constellation, one after the other. He seemed to be animated by an inner light, and the angel thought he could see a shadow of the smile he'd seen on Crowley's face when they first met. 

His throat tightened, and he looked up at the sky again as the demon, apparently unaware of Aziraphale's state of mond, continued, "Deneb is part of the constellation of Cygnus, and Altaïr is part of the constellation of the Eagle. And then there's..."

Crowley stopped in mid-sentence.

"Crowley?"

"There's the Centaur, with its star Alpha, where his former royal smugness and paramour live happily ever after."

Aziraphale couldn't help but laugh and nudged Crowley's shoulder, "Do you think he had a statue built in his image there too?"

Crowley chuckled and shook his head, "Never! Underneath that gentle exterior, Belzeebub has an iron fist. In fact, stop it, I don't even want to think about it."

They both chuckled, and after a few seconds, Aziraphale said quietly, "You know so much about the stars."

Surprised, he felt Crowley rest his head on his shoulder. Then the demon said softly, "You know, sometimes I wish I didn't know so much. Because even if I know all of this, it will never be the same as the memory of having been among them, of having almost touched them with my fingers, of having participated in the creation of so many, of having seen them born." 

Aziraphale turned to the demon and, stroking his cheek with a finger, said in a contrite tone, "I'm sorry, my dear, I didn't mean for my surprise to upset you. I didn't realize that..."

Crowley interrupted, shaking his head, "No, it's a lovely surprise, and I'm not just sad when I think about it..." he winked and continued, "It was in the sky that I met you. Who can say they met their first love in a sky full of stars?"

Aziraphale scolded and tugged gently at his ear, "Flagorneur. You were so fascinated by your stars that you hardly looked at me. They were the ones who got all the compliments."

Crowley turned to the angel and smiled softly as he replied, "What an unforgivable mistake on my part to have ignored this kind angel who came to help me when I needed it. But you know, angel, there's a star I didn't tell you about tonight because you can't see it with the naked eye or through any kind of telescope. Only I know exactly where it is on any given day of the year, wherever I am. And do you know what this star is called?"

The angel shook his head, puzzled by the gleam he saw in the demon's eyes.

Crowley planted a light kiss on the angel's forehead before replying, "Aziraphale. That's its name."

Aziraphale launched himself and pressed his lips to Crowley's in a kiss that conveyed better than words the emotion and love he felt at that moment. When they parted a few moments later to catch their breath, Crowley rolled onto his back, pulling the angel to him and wrapping his arm around his shoulders, while Aziraphale rested his head on the demon's shoulder. 

They remained in silence for a few moments, the angel tracing random curves on the demon's chest with his fingertips. 

After a moment, he said softly, "You know, Crowley, even though astronomy is not my favorite field, I have books on the subject, some of which I have read, and there is something I have learned from them. There's something called binary star systems, which are more stable and brighter than normal systems, if I'm not mistaken."

Crowley nodded and said quietly, "Go on."

"Well, the two stars in these systems orbit around a common center of mass, which means they're tied together by gravity."

Aziraphale paused, waiting for the demon to confirm, which he did.

The angel straightened up a little and rested his chin on the demon's chest to look at him as he said in a voice slightly veiled with emotion, "It's like a dance that will last for millions of years and never end because these stars can't exist without each other. Like..."

He couldn't finish the sentence because of the emotion, and it was Crowley who did it for him, "Like us."

Aziraphale nodded, and Crowley, also overwhelmed with emotion, wrapped his arms around the angel, who buried his face in his neck.

Overwhelmed with emotion, they remained entwined for a long time under the stars. Along those stars were likely some of those who had witnessed them on the day they first met.

The day they had unknowingly bonded.

Bonded for eternity in this endless dance where neither could exist without the other.

_________

Words generously lent by Rin : It's like a dance that will last millions of years and never end because these stars can't exist without each other.

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : here (After season 2)

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #GOS2Spoilers

[etovest-archived]

Another great thing I love about red valley is that it forces you to come to terms with some uncomfortable questions about capitalism and the prison system. Highly recommend "Are prisons obsolete" by Angela Davis (which is by now a classic on the subject and more relvant to the US, still) but the point rv makes isn't outwardly Does the system work? (it doesn't) but mostly: Are my actions justified because I consider the people I'm acting upon worthless and evil?

Gordon says the first experiments were done on homeless people (which then begets the question: why are homeless people considered subhuman?), then they moved to convicts (and the occasional scientist lol) but Aubrey herself says she could excuse what they were doing because of that reason (can't find the exact episode, but you get what I mean). Then you learn that Warren also killed someone and he doesn't remember it, but he did it, and you know he did, Everyone knows he did. And you as the audience have to make a choice: did he deserve it? You know he's nice, a bit of a nutcase, but he's a nerd passionate about retro-gaming, you like him. Would your reaction to knowing he's a murder have changed if you didn't like him? Would he still deserve it? Would Pooh, or Yogi, or any person of the previous cohorts?

The point rv makes also is: there will be a line that your own human empathy cannot cross. You cannot say rapists and murderers don't deserve to be "punished", or that they should roam free as if nothing happened, but it forces you to consider what would you do. How do you solve this problem? After all, it's not like Overhead went and abducted these convicts; the prisons gave them full access, allowed them to take them to some undisclosed location and have their merry way with them, which means that to some degree human testing was considered and given the OK by the governement. Which means that the system doesn't work.

And then comes in the fact of the power imbalance, the social dynamic that rich people are going to be rich people, forever. Bryony obviously doesn't care about fame or whatever, she's obsessively dedicated to her research, but Clive, the board of Overhead, to a degree even Grace and Pamela- they care about their image, they Want to look good, they Want to provide the next new shiny toy millionaires and billionaires are going to play with, and they don't care what the path that leads to it entails, they care about money, about funding, about polishing something that works and grants them Eternal Life (hence the catchphrase, hence the need to make Warren presentable).

Gordon also says something like: when you start cannibalising your own staff, where does that lead you? Rich people don't care! As long as they can benefit from something they're willing to put anyone through the wringer: homeless people, convicts, loose-mouthed scientists, they don't care!

It's not about empathy, you're never going to empathise with a rapist, and it's not about The Greater Good, it's about capital, and how many human lives are rich people willing to sacrifice to save a dime.

#red valley podcast #red valley spoilers #(loosely) #its not very well worded but im barely awake i just needed to say it and leave it be #would love to provide citations and quotes my academy heart would sing but 1 am lazy 2 am sleepy #red valley #ask to tag #also of course it's not black and white and by this i dont mean that rich people shouldn't be Dealt With because they should #but that crimes dont exist in a vacuum etcetera etcetera

[shiro-s2e2-erukinzu]

Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 92... You have been warned...! 👌

[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]

IT IS FINALLY TIME, Y'ALL...!!! 👏😆

Today's chapter has brought back some previous plot points that I and many others have been thinking about for quite some time now...!! 😌 So let's talk about it on this wonderful Christmas Eve, shall we...? 😉

Today's chapter begins with something that we knew was coming...:

...THE FINALS...!! 😤

Mentioned all the way back in Mission 42, we learned that if Anya does bad on the finals, she will be separated from Becky (and Damian), so it is extremely important for her to do well them...!! 😲 But she isn't the only one worried about the upcoming finals...

Of course Twilight would be stressing out about whether or not Anya will do well on the finals, but because on of certain goofy spy (last seen being already defeated in a tennis match in Mission 32), Twilight can't even cheat on the test for Anya anymore...:

(*Sniff* I'm so glad to see Daybreak again, even it's just flashback...!! 🥹)

But since Anya did quite well in Classical Language (also mentioned in Mission 42), Twilight wants her to work on that subject and believes that she could even get a Stella for it... Then this happened:

HAHAHA!!! 🤣😂 THIS HAD ME CACKLING!!

After Twilight lost all hope for his daughter to well on the finals, Authens show up and invite the Forgers to have some cookies!! 🍪

While at the Authens' place, we get a lot of interesting information about Authens, but the things that peaked my interest the most are that Mr. Authen taught neurology at the University that he used to work at and that him and Mrs. Authen moved back to Berlint to be close to their son and his family...!! 🤔

I don't know if either these things about the Authens will lead to anything, but I'll still be on my guard about them... (Especially about who might be their son...! 🤔)

Moving on, Sigmund starts to help Anya with Classical Language by *GASP* using something that she loves to help her with her studies...!! 😲 (Yes, I know Twilight to tried to teach Anya using Spy Wars before, but... He didn't do it properly [as seen in Short Mission 9, which was also mentioned in today's chapter as well...! 😄]) AND IT ACTUALLY SEEMS TO BE WORKING!!! 😆

And after some more studying, Sigmund congratulates Anya for all of her hard today:

The Forgers prepare to leave the Authens' place and Anya says that she'll keep coming to the Authens place to study (as long as they have cookies...! 😋) But then, Sigmund asks Anya what's her main goal after becoming an Imperial Scholar, and she says...:

AND SIGMUND GIVES HER A HUG FOR THAT ANSWER...!! 💗🥹💗

(I take back being suspicious of him, at least for now...! 😌)

Anya continues her training (I mean studying) with Sigmund until she ends up looking like Solid Snake...!! 👏🤣👏🤣👏🤣

Anya, you so crazy...!! 😂😂😂

After that, Anya heads off to school (with that permanent marker 5 o'clock shadow on her face 🤭) ready to take the finals...!! 😎 And then...:

WE HAVE TO WAIT & FOUND OUT HOW ANYA DID NEXT TIME ON ANYA BALL Z!!! 🌀

And that was Mission 92, a nice little on Christmas Eve that finally brought back things that haven't been brought up in while (like Daybreak...!! 😆) I loved that Anya was actually enjoying studying for once, thanks to Sigmund!! 😊 And to Twilight, I love you, but... THIS👏IS👏HOW👏YOU👏SHOULD👏HAVE👏APPROACHED👏ANYA👏WITH👏HER👏STUDIES!!!👏😤 My guy Twilight really doesn't understand children AT ALL (especially his own...!! 😌)

I truly don't think that the Authens are bad people after this chapter, but I still believe that they (particularly Sigmund) might have a dark past...!! 🤔 As for the mention of the Authens' having a son has got my theory brain a rolling...! 😵 But, my best guess of who their son could be is either he's Anya's biological father or one of the scientists that experimented on her... 👀

Anyway, I think that's all wanna say about this chapter...!! 😊 And if know me tomorrow is my favorite holiday, CHRISTMAS!! 😆 I probably won't be on Tumblr at all tomorrow, so until December 26th or the next Mission... Take care, be safe out there, be kind to one another, & HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!!! 💗😆💗 SEE Y'ALL LATER!! 👋😊

#spy x family #sxf #spyxfamily #spy x family manga #sxf manga #spyxfamily manga #anya forger #loid forger #yor forger #bond forger #becky blackbell #damian desmond #sigmund authen #barbara authen #I'm still a little suspicious of the Authens... #...but after this chapter... #...I'll put my suspicions to rest for now...!! 🤔 #I hope that Anya does well on the finals!! 🤞 #HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!! 🎉😆 #Mission 92 #manga spoilers #Also... #DAYBREAK FINALLY GOT MENTIONED AFTER ALL THIS TIME...!! 👏😭

[chryso0]

I'm doing a chapter analysis that nobody asked for on the chapter. “The Boss’s Secret Fur Ball Life” — Aka the iconic aki-kitty extra

This chapter lives rent free in my head, but there is some other stuff going on that i just love about this episode, other then the very obvious fan service.

Lets start off with the fact this is one of those rare episode where everything is actually from Asami’s POV. It’s his dream we are seeing and its a nice window into his own thoughts, and feelings about his relationship with Akihito. And i think if we dig deep it also shows his own fears, insecurties and worries about their relationship too.

The first few pages start off with what the real Asami does on a day to day basis when he returns home from work, which we’ve seen in many different formats through out the series. It goes something like this - the standard greeting at the doorway (which is based on classic anime domestic troupe, where typically the wife greets her husband at the door when he’s back from work), they eat dinner together, and Asami always takes a shower, etc….

In the lense of the dream that all remains the same - but of course with the twist that Akihito is a cat! In this version Akihito is waiting at the door for Asami to return home- though if you point that out to him he will promptly deny having done something so clingy (very aki like). Then Akihito eats happily from his little cat bowl (aki do be loving his food!) (on another note given Akihito is usually the one cooking for Asami, i find it funny that in this version Asami is the one feeding Aki) And then Asami takes his shower, and like many cat owners can attest the cat (aka Aki-kitty) follows his owner into the bathroom, so that when Asami steps out of the shower Aki-kitty is staring right at him.

At that moment, i think there is a brief second were we all recognize that it’s a prime oppertunity for things to divulge into something we’ve come to expect from Asami. I mean Aki-kitty is blatantly staring right at it and then he waves his little feather toy and asks if its playtime. If this was real life - there’d be no question of what would happen next. But it doesnt happen, because suddenly theres an incoming call, and it interupts any thought of fooling around with his kitty.

So the question I ask is why? This whole dream is supposed to be Asami’s fantasy, right? One where Akihito is hanging on him, begging for attention, and doing things that the real life Akihito would never do?

So why in this moment, in his own dream, is Asami’s thinking about work?

Is it because dream iteself is a reflection of whats happening in real world. When he wakes from his dream later we find out that he’s been on a business trip for the last week and hasn’t been home, hasn’t been able to see Akihito. And just like in the dream, in the real world he is techincally “home” (aka returning from his business trip) but despite being “home” there is still work that has to be done. Just like in the dream. He still has obligations that prevent him from being with Akihito.

Back in the dream, he takes the call, even while Aki-kitty persistently clings to him. Again though, remeber whose dream this is? Who is the one truly frustrated and wants attention? Is it Akihito? or is Asami the one thats subcousiously frustrated?

Aki-kitty continues to give signs of wanting attention, he brushes the feather in Asami’s face and still he is ignored. Eventually the continued snubing, leads Aki-kitty to lash out and he swats not at Asami - but at the phone. And yes Aki Kitty is selfishly demanding attention when he does this act, but I also think he is subvertly pointing out the fact that Asami’s work life is never ending- even at home. That even after a full day at work, Asami is still preoccupied with it, to the point that he can not give his fully attention to Akihito. That is private life is suffering as a result of him always putting work first.

I am not saying this is a real problem they face as a couple, as its never been discussed as a problem in the storyline. But its not as if Akihito would ever admit to it being a problem, as he is far to stubborn to say so. But I do simply find it interesting that Asami seems to be subconiously aware of this. As if he too doesn’t want work to get in the way of his relationship with Akihito, and he is at least conscious of how it can disrupt his relationship. Luckily, The dream itself almost serves as a reminder for him, as when he wakes up and Kirishima reminds him of his meeting - he decides then and there that those obligations can wait because he wants to see Akihito.

But back in the dream world, after Akihito’s little fit, Asami still chooses work over him and picks up the phone again. And it only leads to a disaster. The cat knocks over some food and breaks a dish. Whether Aki kitty does this purposfully to finally catch Asami’s attention is simply beside the point, because the act does stop Asami in his tracks.

One a little detail you might not have noticed with that particular scene is the bottle of ketchup on the ground, and what I believe is meant to be meatballs and tomato sauce- meaning if this image was in color Akihito might look like as if he was covered in blood. Which explains why Asami looks genuinely worried and carefully kneels down next to Akihito to check if he is hurt.

This part always gets me 🥺 because I can only imagine the things he is thinking about or remembering when he sees what he thinks is a bloody Akihitio *COUGH COUGH naked truth arch COUGH COUGH* and Maybe this is a bit of a stretch, but i almost feel like when he sees it he just goes rigid. That fear he feels of seeing Akihito getting hurt. It just trumps all things - even a god damn phone call!

After that Asami priorities get straight and he finally gives Aki-kitty the much deserved attention he wants. Even after battling the cat in the bath, Asami is still expressing his relief that Akihito was not harmed.

Then of course, just as things are about to get good - Kirishima wakes Asami up 😠

Though it ends as it should with Asami admiting that he wants to “priortize” Aki 🥹🥰

#finder no hyouteki #asami ryuichi #takaba akihito #you're my loveprize in viewfinder #finder series #finder metas

[herwritingartcowboy]

Ok BSD ango with a Latina reader

She would help him not overwork himself.

Like maybe how you meet and love at first sight

Soulmate au

Fluff plz

A/n: This is my first time writing a Latina Reader so please no hate. And here people will know each other's soulmates through a red string.

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Character(s): Ango Sakaguchi

Warning(s): Fluff-Smut, Breeding, Size kink

Readers Gender: Latina Reader

You were new to this apartment and this place in general and that's why you were walking so fast

Classically you bumped into each other as while you were going to get a coffee and he was off to work

You took notice of him right away as you thought he was really cute, he helped you up and both of you apologized and awkwardly walked away

Since then you both would cross each other and it got to the point where you started to greet each other only for it to turn into full conversations

You have heard the stories of the red and how it will appear once you're near your soulmate and for awhile you have felt your pinky finger hurt, first thing you probably pulled on it till the next morning when you both started talking you can see a red string form only to lead to who you have learned to be Ango Sakaguchi

You guys would start to go on early coffee dates and at night catch up at the park

You both took small steps into your relationship but soon you both moved into together

Now you don't know much about what or where he works but you know it causes him to be up late and it would hurt you to not see your man take care of himself so at night once it hits 10:30 you would go over and drag him into bed, it did start fights but he soon learned you did this because you truly did love you, and in the morning you had made him a traditional latino dish (which he loved by the way) seeing you do this for him really made him believe that the red string was right and that you are his soul mate

This man wants to learn about your culture and where you come from and even wanting to learn the language for you as he loved the way you talked to him

You were happy to teach someone about your culture and it did take awhile but one day as you got home from work Ango had made some dinner but what caught off guard was what he called you, "Cariño" "Tesoro?"

You two did end up getting married after seven years of dating which he proposed to you the same date and time and place you both bumped into each other

The wedding was beautiful but small but it had a lot of food, drinks, music was playing, relatives were there, and the wedding went late into the night which left the both of you tired

I don't know if you are to have but I think if you do the max will probably be three, two boys one girl

Your relationship will have ups and downs, having both of you live on the line, learning about his work, and many more but I'm certain you two will push through it

Smut From Here

Now you do talk dirty to him in spanish without him knowing so imagine the blush he gets on his face when he realizes what you have been telling him

I feel like you are the reason why kinks made its way into the bedroom as you both would discuss um and would do those the same night

Breeding Kink,he likes to have you in the missionary position as in this way he can see your face when you cum but on this certain night as you clawed at his back you begged him to cum deep inside you to the point where you will be pregnant with twins, let's just say he didn't pull out that night

Size kink, you were kind of surprised seeing his size on the first night you both did it as that same night it took you awhile to adjust to his size which he did take pride in and to this day you have to take a minute to adjust

Bonus, he is fucking while he is busy doing paperwork like you can cum and sit on his lap but you would need help walking afterwards

#bungou stray dogs x reader #ango sakaguchi x reader #ango x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x female reader #latina reader #ango x fem reader #fem reader #ango sakaguchi #ango sakaguchi x fem reader