#I have already worked on the look for the new blog

[kckt88]

A Heartbeat Between Us IV

Summary:

Y.N joins game night and Alicent discovers that she's going to have a grandchild, but not everyone is happy.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Swearing, Mild Violence, Fluff, Jealousy, Miscommunication, Smut, Oral Sex, Fingering, P in V, Allusions to other Sexual Encounters, Childhood Memories.

AEMOND x Y.N

Word Count: 5835

A.N - I used Zac Gabriel as the face claim for Daeron.

A.N - Most of the story is already written, as I start a new job on Saturday :-)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole @toodlesxcuddles @mamawiggers1980 @minttea07 @nommingonfood @miaajaade

Aemond glanced between Aegon and Daeron, his brow furrowing slightly. “Could we do this another night?” he asked, trying to avoid any disruption to his plans with Y.N.

Plans which consisted of them snuggling up on the sofa and watching a film whilst enjoying a takeout and then him taking her to bed and devouring her sweet cunt until she screamed his name, only then would he fuck her nice and slow, making her come around his cock.

Before his brothers could respond, Y.N. spoke up. “No, it’s fine. You don’t have to change your plans because of me. I can go-” she said with a small smile.

Aemond cut her off quickly. “-No, you’re staying.”

Aegon, ever the cheerful instigator, immediately chimed in. “Hey, why doesn’t she join us? Could be fun.”

Y.N. hesitated. “If that’s okay with you guys-”

Daeron grinned. “The more, the merrier! Obviously, no drinking for you, though,” he teased, pointing to her belly with a wink.

Y.N. laughed and followed them to the table, where Aegon immediately started dealing the cards.

“Come on, Aemond, crack open the beers. I’m dying of thirst over here,” Aegon grumbled dramatically.

Rolling his eye, Aemond grabbed three beers, popping them open before passing them to his brothers.

He then handed Y.N. a carton of Capri Sun, and she cheered, “You remembered!”

Aemond blushed slightly. “I got a couple stashed in the fridge just in case after you said you were craving them. Oh, and a jar of pickles too.”

Aegon and Daeron immediately started laughing.

“Awww, aren’t you sweet,” Daeron teased.

“Shut up,” Aemond muttered, his cheeks still tinged with pink.

Aegon smirked, turning to Y.N. “You know how to play poker, right?”

“Of course,” she said confidently. “My grandfather taught me.”

They each settled in with their cards, the atmosphere light and playful.

After a few moments, Aegon glanced at Aemond with a mischievous grin. “So, when are you going to tell mother she’s going to have a grandchild?”

Aemond leaned back slightly in his chair, glancing at Y.N. “I was planning to tell her this weekend-if Y.N.’s okay with that.”

Y.N. nodded. “Yeah, it’s about time she knew she’s going to be a grandmother.”

Aemond looked relieved. “I’d like you to come with me when I tell her,” he added. “I know she’s met you before, but I think it would be better if you were with me.”

Before Y.N. could respond, Daeron muttered under his breath, “Just make sure Grandsire isn’t there.”

Aemond shot him a sharp look. “What did you say that for, you bloody moron?”

Y.N. raised a curious eyebrow. “Why?” she asked, sensing there was more to the story.

Aemond sighed, running a hand through his hair. “My grandsire isn’t exactly thrilled that my relationship with Alys is over. He’s worried it’ll mess up some business deals we have with Larys.”

“I thought Otto didn’t work for Targaryen Inc. anymore?” Y.N. asked, confused.

“He doesn’t. He was fired after Rhaenyra took over from our father,” Aemond explained. “But he thinks he can still run the company through me since I’m a partner.”

Y.N. snorted. “Sounds like someone has issues letting go.”

Aegon snickered. “Never a truer word spoken.”

“It’s a pain in the arse” muttered Aemond.

“Alright, alright, enough boring talk,” Aegon interrupted, clapping his hands. “What’s really important is what we’re having for dinner. I’m starving.”

Y.N. chuckled. “We were just about to order before you guys showed up.” She stood up with her cards still in hand, making sure no one peeked. “Aegon, what are you in the mood for?”

With a cheeky grin, Aegon replied, “Whatever you’re offering, darling.”

Aemond scowled, but Aegon ignored him and sauntered over to Y.N., leaning over to look at the menus with her.

As they scanned their options, Aemond’s eye never left them, watching his brother like a hawk.

Daeron noticed and nudged Aemond. “Chill out, bro. He’s just standing there.”

Aemond huffed. “Too close for my liking.”

“She’s pregnant with your baby. She’s not interested in Aegon,” Daeron reassured him, rolling his eyes.

Aemond hummed in agreement but still took a sip of his beer, his eye fixed on them until Y.N. and Aegon returned with a decision.

“Chinese,” Y.N. announced with a smile.

Daeron groaned. “We had Chinese last time we were here!”

Aegon shot back, “Yeah, but we didn’t get to finish it because Aemond kicked us out when Alys came over.”

Daeron sighed, rubbing his temples. “Alright, let’s just order. I’m starving too.”

Y.N. decided to write down everyone’s orders to keep it simple, and after about fifteen minutes, the Chinese food was successfully ordered.

Whilst they waited for the food they resumed their game and soon, Y.N. was laying her cards down on the table. “Royal flush.”

Aegon slammed his cards down in disbelief. “How the hell—?!”

Daeron burst out laughing, applauding her. “Impressive.”

Aemond grinned, proud and impressed. Aegon, not willing to admit defeat, demanded a rematch. “Another game! I’m not losing like that.”

Y.N. accepted the challenge, and as Daeron began dealing the cards, she stood up to get another drink.

On her way back, she leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to Aemond’s lips. He blushed, his brothers noticing and immediately nudging each other with smirks.

Aegon chuckled under his breath. “You two are sickeningly cute.”

Daeron snickered. “Yeah, keep it up, and we might just need to get a bucket.”

The night was filled with laughter and light-hearted teasing, though it seemed Aegon was having the hardest time accepting defeat.

After losing yet another round of poker to Y.N., he threw his cards down dramatically, declaring, “You’re cheating! There’s no way you’re this good.”

Aemond rolled his eye, smirking. “Just because you’re terrible at poker doesn’t mean Y.N.’s cheating. If it wasn’t her, you’d be losing to me, and you know it.”

Aegon stuck his tongue out. “You lost to her too, you tool.”

“So what? At least I’m not throwing a tantrum over it.” Aemond’s tone was calm, but the grin on his face was clear provocation.

The Chinese food they had ordered arrived just in time to distract from the bickering, and it was quickly devoured. Aegon, true to form, kept trying to steal food off Y.N.’s plate.

“Try it again, and I’ll stab you with my fork,” Y.N. warned, her voice playful but with a hint of seriousness. “I don’t share food.”

Aegon pouted. “But I want one of your prawn toasts.”

“If you wanted prawn toast, you should’ve ordered your own,” Y.N. retorted, grinning at him as she guarded her plate.

Aegon huffed. “But you shared your onion bhajis with Aemond, and he didn’t order any!”

Y.N. raised an eyebrow, her hand resting protectively over her food. “He’s the father of my child. Special privileges.”

Aegon rolled his eyes dramatically but relented, going back to his own food with a pout, much to everyone’s amusement.

After dinner, Y.N. decided to sit out the last round of poker, even though Aemond protested. “Leave the dishes. You don’t have to do that.”

But Y.N. insisted, washing up the dishes and tossing the takeout cartons, while the others finished their game. By the time she was done, Aemond had emerged victorious, as expected, while Aegon sulked.

“You two are definitely in on this together,” Aegon grumbled. “I’m sure you’re plotting against me, conspiring with one another-”

Daeron shook his head, laughing. “It’s a game of poker Aegon, not Game of Thrones”

As the night drew to a close, Aemond glanced at the time. “It’s getting late. You two should head out.”

Aegon, never one to miss an opportunity for innuendo, smirked. “Oh, got something else planned, do we?”

Before Aemond could respond, Y.N. cut in with a teasing grin. “Yes, actually, we do. And no, Aegon, you can’t watch.”

Daeron burst into laughter while Aegon held his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. But we should do this again soon. Next time, we should invite Helaena.”

Y.N. smiled, nodding in agreement. “That sounds fun. I’d love that.”

After bidding Aegon and Daeron goodnight, much to Aemond’s annoyance, Aegon insisted on giving Y.N. a hug before leaving.

She humoured him, but as soon as the door clicked shut, Aemond’s patience snapped, and he was pulling her into a passionate kiss.

“You drive me crazy,” Aemond murmured against her lips, his voice low and husky.

“Good,” Y.N. whispered back, a smile curving on her lips as she pressed forward and claimed his lips in another kiss.

Aemond couldn’t help the small groan that escaped his lips as Y.N’s tongue slid against his.

Aemond slowly moved his hands down Y.N’s body before roughly grasping her ass and hauling her up against the door.

Y.N whimpered, gripping at Aemond’s shoulders as he slotted himself between her legs, his tongue still invading her mouth.

Aemond presses himself against the apex of Y.N’s thighs, and he growls like an animal when she reaches down and palms his hard cock over his jeans.

“Fuck-“ groans Aemond as he begins grinding his clothed cock against her.

“Someone’s eager” whispered Y.N as she flicked her tongue against the corner of Aemond’s mouth.

“Oh, you have no idea” quipped Aemond as she spun her off the door and carried her to his bed.

Soon their clothes are abandoned in a haphazard heap on the floor and Aemond was laid between Y.N open legs moving his fingers through her dripping folds as he expertly devoured her with his mouth, his nose bumping against her pearl as fucked her with his tongue.

Gods, she tastes incredible.

Aemond loved performing oral sex on Y.N she was delicious in a way he’d never tasted before.

“Fuck,” squeaks Y.N as she grasps at the back of Aemond’s head, her fingers digging into his hair, holding him in place.

“You’re quite sensitive. Are you going to come already?” asked Aemond smugly.

Aemond alternates between using his fingers and tongue to bring Y.N to her peak.

Y.N arches her back as she comes, Aemond gently sucks on her pearl as she rides out the euphoria of her peak.

“Is that you done baby, or do you want more?” asked Aemond playfully, his chin shining with her slick.

“M-More, please” gasps Y.N as Aemond reaches forward and presses a singular kiss to her pearl before he quickly wipes his chin with his hand.

Aemond smirks as he removes his boxers, his hard cock slapping up against his abdomen, the tip glistening with pre-cum.

Aemond takes himself in hand and guides his hard cock to Y.N entrance, pushing in slowly and pausing to give himself a moment.

Gods she was so wet and tight.

After pressing a gentle kiss to Y.N’s lips, Aemond pulls out slowly and slides back in, his pace gentle and steady.

“Oh-please Aemond-Harder-” whimpered Y.N.

Aemond lets out a pleased grunt and thrusts into Y.N harder, smiling as she lets out a yelp of surprise.

Soon he was moving inside her with a series of sharp hard thrusts, as much as he wanted to fuck her into the mattress, he didn’t want to harm the baby.

Y.N moaned desperately, as she moved her hips to meet his, attempting to allow his cock to reach deeper within her.

Aemond gets the hint, and quickly lifts Y.N’s legs over his shoulders, using the new angle to drive his cock a little deeper than before.

“Tell me how it feels-tell me how my cock feels” demands Aemond.

“It’s good, so good-yes-yes, right there”

Y.N praises sets something off inside Aemond as he continues to thrust into her, the headboard banging against the wall.

“Aemond, please, I’m close” whimpers Y.N.

Aemond moves a hand down to where the two of them are joined, and rubs Y.N’s pearl in quick circles, dragging her closer the edge of the precipice.

“I never want to leave this sweet pussy–fuck,” groans Aemond as he marks each of his words in tandem with a snap of his hips.

Y.N come with a loud, scream, her body shaking underneath Aemond’s as his thrusts grow sloppy.

“J-Just a little longer-fuck” groans Aemond as he thrusts into Y.N three more times before reaching his own peak, spilling rope after rope of seed inside her.

After a few moments, Aemond gently moves Y.N’s legs from his shoulders, his chest heaving with every breath he takes.

“I-I wasn’t too rough, was I?” asked Aemond.

“No. I-It was wonderful” exclaimed Y.N, her body shaking slightly.

Aemond smirks as he slowly removes his softened cock from her slick cunt, his singular eye fixated on the drops of seed that spill out.

He takes a finger to Y.N’s opening and pushes his seed back inside, delighting in her moan of surprise. He leans over to press a gentle kiss to her lips, before bringing his finger to his own mouth and sucking it clean.

Aemond laid down on the bed and pulled Y.N to him.

“Not tired, are you?” asked Aemond curiously as Y.N laid her head on his chest and began running her fingers through the sparse hair that graced his chest.

Y.N looked at him and smiled as she shook her head.

“Good, because I plan to fuck you so many times tonight that you cannot walk tomorrow”.

 “Promises, promises” replied Y.N.

Y.N stood in front of her wardrobe; frustration etched on her face as she rummaged through the sea of clothes. Every outfit she tried on felt wrong, and with every rejected option, her anxiety about seeing Alicent only grew.

Aemond, sitting calmly on the edge of her bed, watched with quiet amusement, his eye following her frantic movements.

"You look beautiful in anything," he said, his voice soft, trying to ease her stress.

Y.N shot him a look of disbelief, tugging at the hem of a dress she had just discarded. “Of course you’d say that”.

With a playful roll of his eye, Aemond slid off the bed and approached her wardrobe. “Fine, I’ll help,” he muttered, thumbing through the hangers thoughtfully.

After a moment, he pulled out a blue chiffon lace midi dress, holding it up for her approval. “Here. Try this.”

Y.N eyed it for a moment before slipping it on. She checked herself in the mirror, smoothing the fabric over her figure.

After a few moments of contemplation, she nodded, satisfied. “You’ve got good taste,” she admitted, finishing her hair and makeup before stepping into a pair of heels.

She turned to him. “What do you think?”

Aemond’s gaze softened as he looked at her, admiration clear in his eye. “You look beautiful,” he said sincerely, stepping closer to press a gentle kiss to her lips.

With that, they headed out, climbing into his car for the thirty-minute drive to his mother’s.

The entire ride, Y.N’s nerves churned. She had been to the manor many times and had met Alicent before, but this time felt different.

She squeezed Aemond’s hand, seeking comfort, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze in return, sensing her unease.

When they arrived at the grand Targaryen manor, Y.N took a deep breath before stepping out of the car. Hand in hand, they entered the house, greeted by Alicent’s warm smile.

Aemond’s mood darkened slightly as he spotted his grandsire, Otto Hightower, seated in the drawing room.

“Y.N, would you like a drink?” Alicent offered kindly, and Y.N gratefully accepted a glass of orange juice. Aemond declined any alcohol, as he was driving.

As they sat down at the table, the air was initially filled with polite conversation. Otto, however, quickly turned to Aemond with a thin smile. “So, how are things at Targaryen Inc.? Any updates?”

Aemond’s jaw tightened slightly. “I’d prefer not to discuss work right now,” he said coolly, making it clear he wasn’t in the mood for business talk.

Alicent, sensing the tension, turned her attention to Y.N. “It’s been a while since I last saw you. How have you been? What have you been working on lately?”

Y.N relaxed slightly, smiling as she answered. “I’ve been busy finishing a piece for the local museum. I’m almost done with it.”

Before she could elaborate, Otto cut in. “And what is it you do again?” His tone was laced with thinly veiled condescension.

Y.N remained composed. “I’m a restoration artist. I work primarily at Howlett’s Bookstore, but I do commissions for other places as well.”

“A bookstore?” Otto sneered.

“Yes,” Y.N replied evenly. “I restore old books.”

Otto looked unimpressed, but before he could say more, Alicent interjected with a curious smile. “That sounds fascinating. Restoring old books must be quite the delicate process.”

“It is,” Y.N agreed, relaxing a bit more. “It can be time-consuming, depending on the book's condition, but it’s incredibly rewarding when I see the final result.”

Aemond leaned in, his voice filled with pride. “She’s incredibly talented. I’ve seen photos of her work—she can bring even the most damaged pieces back to life.”

Alicent’s smile widened. “Do you restore jewellery as well?”

“I do,” Y.N nodded.

Alicent stood from the table, disappearing briefly before returning with a small box. “This brooch belonged to my mother, Alyrie. It was passed down to her by her grandmother, but over the years, it’s become discoloured.” She opened the box to reveal the intricate brooch. “I was wondering if you could restore it.”

Y.N took the box gently, studying the brooch. “I can restore it, no problem.”

Alicent looked relieved. “Thank you. I’ll pay you, of course.”

Y.N shook her head with a smile. “No need, I’m happy to do it.”

At that moment, Y.N nudged Aemond gently in the ribs, urging him.

Aemond cleared his throat, glancing between his mother and Y.N before blurting out, “Y.N is pregnant.”

Alicent blinked, clearly surprised but processing the news quickly. “Are you two getting married?” she asked, her gaze shifting between them.

“No,” Aemond replied, “but we’re committed to raising the baby together.”

Otto, however, looked scandalized. “It’s unacceptable,” he snapped. “A child born out of wedlock—this is disgraceful.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched, his patience thinning. “This isn’t the dark ages, grandsire. My child will still have the Targaryen name.”

“It won’t be a true Targaryen,” Otto shot back coldly.

Aemond’s anger flared. “Why not? The baby will have my blood and my name. A piece of paper won’t change that.”

“How could you have been so careless?” Otto demanded, his eyes narrowing. “Or did she get pregnant on purpose?” His gaze flicked dismissively to Y.N., who gasped in shock.

Aemond stood abruptly, furious. “Y.N. is no gold digger. We spent the night together, and we didn’t use precautions. It’s as simple as that.”

The argument escalated, Otto criticizing Aemond for ending his relationship with Alys, claiming it would jeopardize business ties with Larys Strong. The tension in the room mounted until Alicent finally intervened.

“While I’m not thrilled about the two of you not getting married,” Alicent said calmly, “I’m happy to welcome my first grandchild.”

Otto, still fuming, spat, “It’s unacceptable.”

Aemond glared at his grandsire. “It’s not your life. It’s mine. And my mother’s approval is the only one I care about.”

Turning to Alicent, Aemond softened. “I’m sorry, Mother, but we won’t be staying for dinner.”

He took Y.N.’s hand, and led her out of the manor, his anger still simmering as they left Otto behind.

As they left the Targaryen manor, Y.N. felt a heavy silence settle between her and Aemond. The argument with Otto had rattled her more than she wanted to admit.

The tension, the judgment—it all weighed heavily on her. She stared out the window of the car, her mind racing.

"Aemond-" she began quietly, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft, unsure. "Can you just take me home?"

Aemond glanced at her, concern evident in his expression. "Y.N., are you alright?" He reached for her hand, but she gently pulled away.

"I just-I need to be alone," she said, her voice faltering. "Please."

Aemond hesitated, the hurt flashing briefly in his eye, but he respected her request. He nodded silently and drove toward her flat, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as he fought the urge to push her for more.

He could feel the emotional distance growing between them, and it made him uneasy.

When they arrived, Y.N. unclipped her seatbelt hastily. She paused for a moment, her hand resting on the door handle as if she wanted to say something, but the words never came.

Instead, she glanced at him with an apologetic expression. "Thank you for taking me home."

Before Aemond could reply, she slipped out of the car and hurried toward her building. Aemond watched her rush inside, his heart sinking as she disappeared from view.

Aemond had spent the past week in a fog of frustration and anxiety, the silence from Y.N. gnawing at him like a wound that refused to heal.

His texts to her had gone unanswered, and every day without a reply made him question if he'd somehow lost her.

He considered going to her flat multiple times but ultimately decided against it, fearing that showing up unannounced might only push her further away.

Even his usual game night with Aegon and Daeron provided no relief—without Y.N. there and Helaena refusing to join, the nights were hollow.

His foul mood grew so unbearable that Aegon and Daeron eventually kicked him out of their flat, tired of his snapping and sourness.

The breaking point came when Aemond, still seething with anger at his grandsire, drove to his mother’s house to confront Otto.

The confrontation erupted into another fierce argument, with accusations flying until Aemond, overwhelmed with fury, punched a wall, splitting his knuckles open.

He hadn’t even felt the pain, only the burning rage that filled him. His mother, had gently cleaned and bandaged his hand afterwards, her touch soothing but her words even more so.

“I’m sorry for losing my temper,” Aemond muttered, his voice low and ashamed.

Alicent had looked at him with that patient, understanding gaze. “I understand. What your grandsire said was unacceptable”

“I-I just don’t know what to do mother” whispered Aemond.

“You need to tell Y.N how you feel."

Aemond shook his head, his voice raw with uncertainty. “I’m in love with her, mother. But I’m terrified. What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

Alicent had smiled softly. “-I remember when Y.N first came here, Helaena had asked if she could bring a friend home from school-it wasn’t too long after you’d lost your eye, and you were worried what people would say about your scar-”

Aemond shuddered at the memory of being so scared and insecure, consistently hiding in his room, not wanting anyone to look at him.

“-It was Y.N who managed to get you out of your room” said Alicent softly.

Aemond remembered that day very well, he’d caught sight of Y.N in the gardens with Helaena.

The sound of her laughter and the mesmerized look on her face as a butterfly landed on her outstretched hand.

His sister had never brought a friend home before as everyone thought she was odd, and despite his insecurity, he found himself wanting to go outside.

He kept the left side of his face hidden as best he could, when Helaena introduced him to Y.N, but a sudden gust of wind had blown the hood from his head and exposed his scar to Y.N.

Aemond had rushed to cover his face, feeling absolutely mortified, but Y.N stopped him, she gently took his hand and told him not to hide, that his scar showed that he was brave.

“I was so grateful to her-” said Alicent smiling.

Aemond smiled back, of course Y.N became a regular visitor, having sleep overs with Helaena, and befriending Aegon and Daeron.

But his insecurity still loomed over him like a shadow and as he got older, he convinced himself that despite her gentle nature Y.N would never reciprocate his feelings and instead he pushed her away.

He was mean and unkind to her, but he rationalized his treatment of her due to the fact that she was so damn annoying, especially in their classes, hand in the air always eager to answer.

He simultaneously loved and hated that smug look she would get on her face when she bested him.

“-I always noticed that whenever she was here, your gaze would linger on her as if she was the only one in the room-” whispered Alicent.

“I was so horrible to her though-“ muttered Aemond.

“-Yes, you were, and I cursed your stupidity many times, for I could see how hopelessly in love with her you were-”

Aemond had leaned into his mother, placing his head on her shoulder, in a show of vulnerability.

“If anyone was going to have your child, I’m glad it’s Y.N but you should tell her how you feel, who knows, she could feel the same way-”

"I hope so," Aemond had whispered back.

Days later, as he worked out in his penthouse, trying to clear his mind, his phone buzzed with a message from Y.N. His heart leaped in his chest.

It was brief but enough to send his pulse racing: I’ve finished restoring your mother’s brooch. I’ll bring it by later.

Aemond had never showered so quickly in his life. He rushed to tidy the penthouse, making sure everything looked perfect before the knock on the door came.

When he opened it, there she was—standing there as beautiful as ever. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her.

“Come in,” he said, his voice betraying how desperately he’d missed her.

Y.N. stepped inside, and there was an awkward tension between them, a mix of uncertainty and emotions that had built up over the week. She opened her bag and pulled out a small box, handing it to him.

“I hope she likes it,” she said quietly.

Aemond opened the box carefully, and his breath hitched. The brooch, once dull and discoloured, was now vibrant and radiant, as if it had just been made.

It was stunning. His mother would love it.

“This is incredible,” he whispered, placing the box down. “Thank you. My mother will be overjoyed.”

Y.N. nodded, her eyes flickering with emotion. Aemond noticed her hesitation and stepped closer, his worry mounting.

“I texted you,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice steady. “I was worried. I didn’t want to show up unannounced and make things worse, but—”

“I’m sorry,” Y.N. interrupted, her voice trembling. “I just needed time to think.”

Aemond felt a pang of dread settle in his chest. His mind raced, preparing for the worst. Was she about to break things off?

Which in hindsight was odd as they weren’t officially dating. His heart pounded as he watched her eyes well with tears, bracing himself for the words he was terrified of hearing.

“W-What happened with your grandsire really upset me-,” she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. “-b-but it was wrong of me to shut you out, it wasn’t your fault a-and I’ve really missed you this week-”

Aemond moved forward and pulled her in his arms, kissing her with a passion that made the world around them disappear.

“I missed you too” he breathed against her lips, kissing her again, happy to have her in his arms once more.

“What happened to your hand?”

“Oh-I had an argument with my grandsire and lost my temper” replied Aemond.

“Did you hit him?”

“No-I took my frustration out on a wall” said Aemond his breath hitching as Y.N took his bandaged hand and placed a kiss on the knuckles.

“M-My grandfather used to call it a healing kiss,” said Y.N  softly.

Their gazes locked and Aemond could feel his stomach churning, as Y.N leaned closer to him and kissed him, her hands sliding into his long hair.

“Can I?”

Aemond nodded and sighed as he felt her slowly unclasp his eyepatch, her thumb caressing his scarred cheek.

“Y.N-” muttered Aemond.

“You’ve always been beautiful” breathed Y.N as her lips met his.

The next morning, as they laid in bed together, Aemond gently ran his hand over her stomach, smiling at the slight swell he could feel.

The thought of their baby growing there filled him with a sense of awe and excitement. They had another appointment with the midwives soon, and he was already counting down the days.

He wondered when they could start going baby shopping, His spare room had already been cleared out, a blank canvas ready to be transformed into a nursery for their little one.

He imagined what it might look like—crib, toys, soft colours—his heart warming at the thought.

His phone buzzed on the bedside table, and a quick glance told him he was late for work. But he didn’t care. He wasn’t leaving the warmth of this bed, not today.

A rare day off was in order; he wanted to savour every moment with Y.N., who was still fast asleep beside him.

As he lay there, his thoughts wandered. When was the right time to tell her that he was in love with her? And more importantly did she feel the same?

Aemond knew that, for him, the feelings had always been there, lurking beneath the surface. Y.N. had gotten under his skin in a way no one ever had.

With a small smile, he closed his eye again, intending to sleep a little longer, but when he woke up later, the bed beside him was empty.

His heart skipped a beat, and he called her name. No answer. Getting out of bed, he pulled on a pair of boxers and sighed in relief when he found her in the kitchen, pacing as she talked on the phone.

She was wearing one of his shirts, and the sight of her in it drove him mad in the best way possible.

The top buttons were undone, offering a teasing glimpse of her breasts, and the hem barely grazed her bum, leaving him aching with desire.

How was it possible to want someone this much?

His thoughts were interrupted when she giggled, and he caught her saying Aegon’s name.

Aemond frowned, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway, waiting for her to finish.

Why was she talking to his brother? After a few more moments, Y.N. hung up the phone, turning around to see Aemond glaring at her.

“Why were you on the phone with my brother?” Aemond demanded, the irritation clear in his voice.

Y.N. raised an eyebrow, her expression amused. “Because he’s also my friend.”

“Do you talk to him often?” Aemond’s question was laced with suspicion.

Y.N. shrugged casually. “We usually text every so often. He called because he was going to McDonald's and offered to bring me one at work, but I told him I was here with you-”

Aemond huffed in annoyance, his lips pressing into a pout. Y.N. grinned at him.

“You’re cute when you pout,” she teased.

“I do not pout,” Aemond muttered, his scowl deepening.

Y.N. laughed, stepping closer and rising onto her toes to press a kiss to his nose. “Yes, you do. You’re doing it now.”

He tried to maintain his scowl, but her teasing was infectious.

As Y.N. brushed past him on her way to the bathroom, she glanced over her shoulder with a playful smile, as she began to unbutton the shirt she wore.

“I’m off to take a shower. Care to join me?” said Y.N as she removed the shirt and threw it at him.

At the sight of her naked body, Aemond’s sour mood vanished in an instant, a smirk spreading across his face.

“Oh, hell yes-” exclaimed Aemond as he followed her eagerly, his thoughts now consumed by the love and desire that only she could ignite in him.

And gods be good, fucking Y.N in the shower as the hot water cascaded over them, was incredible, and most definitely the perfect way to start the day.

Y.N. lay back on the midwife’s table, her heart fluttering with a mixture of excitement and nerves. Aemond sat beside her, his hand resting protectively over hers as the midwife pressed the doppler against her small but growing bump.

A few seconds passed in silence before the sound of the baby’s heartbeat filled the room, a rapid and steady rhythm that echoed like the most beautiful music. Y.N. smiled softly, her eyes misting with emotion as she turned to look at Aemond.

"I can't believe that’s our baby," Aemond whispered, his excitement barely contained.

The midwife smiled as she moved on to measure Y.N.’s bump, jotting down notes as she continued the checkup. She tested Y.N.'s urine, reassuring them both that everything was progressing beautifully.

“The baby’s growing nicely, but your iron levels are a bit low,” the midwife added. “Try to eat more iron-rich foods, and at your next appointment, we’ll test your blood again. If your levels are still low, we’ll prescribe some iron tablets.”

Y.N. nodded, making a mental note as they booked their next appointment for the 20-week scan.

As they were leaving, they began discussing whether they should find out the gender of the baby.

"I don’t really want to know," Y.N. admitted, glancing at Aemond. "As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all that matters to me."

Aemond, however, seemed to have a different opinion. “I’d like to know,” he said thoughtfully. “I want to make a start on the nursery, get everything ready.”

Y.N. came to an abrupt stop in the hallway, her eyes widening as his words sank in. “Wait-what did you just say?” she asked.

Aemond blinked, momentarily unsure if he’d said something wrong. “I, uh, cleaned out one of my spare rooms-I was thinking of turning it into a nursery.”

For a moment, Y.N. just stared at him, and Aemond’s heart skipped a beat, wondering if he’d overstepped. But then, a wide smile broke across her face, and she reached up to kiss him softly.

“I love that,” she whispered against his lips.

“I just want everything to be perfect for our baby,” Aemond said, his relief evident in his voice.

Y.N. pulled back, her eyes gleaming with an idea. “What if-you find out the gender, and you do the nursery? Then, when it’s finished, you can surprise me with a sort of gender reveal.”

Aemond’s face lit up at the suggestion, a boyish excitement taking over. “That’s brilliant. I love it. Thank you for trusting me with that.”

Y.N. smiled, resting her hand on her stomach. “It’s your baby, too.”

With a renewed sense of joy, Aemond suggested, “Let’s go shopping. We can make a list of everything we need for the nursery.”

Y.N. nodded, her heart swelling with love and excitement. Together, they walked out of the clinic, ready to embrace this next chapter in their journey.

TBC

[roguephenon]

II: The Thing That Will Always Be

"...Knowing this was the outcome, would you have still done the same?"

"In a New York minute." (Chapter cover is by @pinkmeanschaos. Check them out; they have fantastic work.)

The beginning of the end lies under the cut.

This would be the part where I post a tease of the chapter, followed by a link to said chapter.

Let's switch it up this time.

You've all given me so much love and encouragement, and I appreciate and cherish it all. Thank you so, so much.

But I'm not the only fanfic writer for this fandom. There are so many others who deserve love too. Some come to mind.

Like...

@geekinclara just recently started a KND fic, "Those Were The Days". It looks to be their take on Rachel's days as Supreme Leader and maybe even beyond that. It's off to a fantastic start. I've occasionally seen their posts about how much prep they've been doing for it (did you know making a cohesive timeline for this show is hard? Because it truly is), so it could do with some love, non?

And then there's @spicedwatermel0n and his KND fic, "The Rebellion," a GKND AU with 15 chapters already. It explores darker themes (which he's gone through the effort of listing before it starts to prepare his audience; he cares!) while weaving a narrative of the cast trying to fight an oppressive GKND regime. In space. Which is dope. He even has his own art of his designs. I hear he loves people asking about his AU and headcanons on his side blog when he has time to answer.

Nowadays, I write stories and create art for myself first and foremost, and I believe that should be the ultimate goal. Learning to love and take pride in your work should compel your drive to tell stories!

But comments matter, too. Feedback and engagement are rarely ever not a boost. I read every review left and respond to what I can when I have spoons, and it's an amazing feeling.

So, this is just me saying, "Help them feel amazing, too!" And not just these two, but all fanfic writers! If you see a fic you like, leave a quick sentence of your favorite moment!

Even if it has no traction, you'll just be their first!

Even if it has yet to be updated in 14 years, maybe there's a chance they'll come back one day!

Just something that came to mind to me today! And, of course, everyone has boundaries and things they like and dislike. Be respectful of those, too! Seriously. I've had to learn lessons the hard way, and I hope you don't have to have as harsh of an experience.

Thanks for listening to me yap!

Here's the link to Cold Reception's penultimate chapter for your trouble.

[izayoichan]

The future of this blog, kinda part two? (sorry for the wall of text.. again!) It's been a lot of trying to find the love for sims again for me, trying to find the fun. But I have come to the conclusion, that right now, it just is not. I have not uppdated, opened, touched the for anything but taking a couple of screenshots because I comissioned poses so I wanted to use them, or I just felt (stupidly I guess) that I had to so this blog had sims content. That is what this blog is to me, its linked with sims, the story I started creating with them, and friends that also love sims. But like mentioned, for me the fun of sims is gone. (Thank you EA, for constantly making sims worse and worse and boring to the point where it's for me just not worth spending energy on). So I will from tomorrow let what I have left of the story that's already written post twice a day until it's done. I will at the same time share all the last sims screenshots I have lying around that I have kept to myself because spoilers and me having the need to be a little secrety, and when that is all posted and ended, I will make a post with a new blog, a new start for me to find my fun again. I don't want to delete what is here, because I am actually proud of it, that I managed to share and write a story for the first time. So instead I am making a new blog, where I will post random screenshots, random things I find, reblog more stuff that I find pretty and so on. I am working on going back to streaming for fun as well, but that will take time and some effort as I want certain things, and I want to do them right and properly. (Live 2d avatars are not easy, cheap or fast to have done!) So the progress on that might be on my new blog as well, and maybe when time comes, I will have clips of sillness and me grumbling and cursing the game while I once more fail miserably at Elden Ring. Yes, I will still follow a lot of the same people, because although my relationship with sims is (for now) at an end, I still love your stories, and your little pixel figures. I am not breaking away from that, I am breaking away from my own stuff. Do I feel like I let people down, a little, but I know that's just how my brain works and that this is doing what is best for me outweighs that worry. (specially after talking to some people about it for some input, and them saying I should do what it best for me. See I am listening!) A little health update at the end, for those interrested: I am slowly doing better, new doctor and new scans have brought more understanding, more peace of mind, and I am back on most of my pain meds, which means my body is slowly stabalizing into a new place. Not quite as good as I was before "hell year" started, but also not as bad as I have been. I'll take every step in the right direction with a big smile on my face.

So for now, enjoy the sims content that will come. And when the time comes, perhaps I will be seeing a lot of you on the new page as well!

[pegasusdrawnchariots]

Take this off my hands beloved mutuals & followers

[lesbianphan]

if I may be honest for a minute, this christmas is gonna be entirely weird to me (I already cried once) cause I basically have no family left (the ones I do don't spend time with me lol) and for the first time I can remember in life, I'm not making a christmas meal for my family and lots of desserts and doing my best to keep everyone entertained and even though it was super stressful, I already miss it. I'll be strong cause it's all that's left for me.

[kitteneddiediaz]

.

[dove-skulls]

grrrrr cant create my new dev logs blog until lunch so I'm angry

[kckt88]

A Heartbeat Between Us VI

Summary:

Things between Y.N and Aemond get tense as her due date approaches.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Fluff, Tension, Petty Disagreements, Frustration, Kissing, Allusion to Sex, Labour, Child Birth.

AEMOND x Y.N

Word Count: 4750

A.N - Took Inspiration from Friends (The one where Rachel is late).

A.N - Most of the story is already written, as I start a new job on Saturday :-)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole @toodlesxcuddles @mamawiggers1980 @minttea07 @nommingonfood

As Y.N’s due date approached, the final weeks of her pregnancy were a flurry of last-minute preparations.

She and Aemond made multiple trips to baby stores, ticking off the remaining items on their list: tiny baby clothes, boxes of nappies, and, of course, the pram.

Aemond, for all his intelligence and competence in other areas, found himself stumped by the bloody contraption.

One evening, they stood in the living room as he tried to fold the pram down. Y.N. sat on the sofa, watching him with growing amusement.

"How do you manage this with just a few clicks?" Aemond grumbled, pressing buttons, pulling levers, but the pram remained stubbornly upright.

Y.N. laughed so hard she clutched her belly.

"It’s not that hard. Watch." She stood up and, with a few quick movements, had the pram folded and set aside.

Aemond stared at the pram, then at her, and back at the pram. "You’re mocking me," he muttered, but a small smile played at the corners of his mouth.

Seeing her joy, even at his expense, was worth the mild humiliation.

They also hosted Alicent for dinner one evening and she had practically melted at the sight of the nursery.

The soft, cream and blue décor, the dragon mobile, and the carefully arranged baby furniture brought a wide smile to her face.

“Oh, Aemond,” Alicent said, her eyes bright with pride, “This is perfect. The baby will be so loved here.”

Meanwhile, Aemond had reluctantly resumed his game nights with Aegon, Daeron, and Helaena.

While he loved spending time with his siblings, Aegon’s constant teasing about Y.N. still irritated him to no end.

He was convinced that his brother harboured a playful, if not slightly serious, attraction to her.

The knowing looks Aegon would shoot him during the evenings, paired with the offhanded comments about how lucky Aemond was, drove him mad.

Yet, for Y.N.’s sake, he kept his cool—mostly.

Except for that one incident where he may or may not have accidentally on purpose shoved Aegon's head into the table when Y.N excused herself and went to the bathroom.

At home, Y.N. had taken time off from her job and settled into a comfortable routine as her pregnancy neared its end.

However, as she edged closer to 40 weeks, she grew increasingly frustrated.

"I feel like a balloon about to pop," she grumbled one evening, sprawled on the sofa while Aemond massaged her swollen feet.

Aemond, who was trying to remain calm on the outside but was secretly on pins and needles every day at work, nodded sympathetically.

"It’ll happen when the baby is ready," he said, though inside he was just as eager as she was.

Every time his phone buzzed during meetings, he found himself hoping it was her saying it was time, only to be met with disappointment.

He had taken to keeping his phone on the loudest setting, checking it obsessively, and texting her constantly to make sure she was alright.

Each day that passed without that long-awaited call made him more anxious.

The tension in the penthouse had been unbearable over the last few days. Y.N.’s growing discomfort and frustration with being overdue had turned every small annoyance into a full-blown argument.

Aemond, while trying to be as patient as possible, found himself at a loss. Everything he did seemed to irritate her.

If he tried to comfort her, she snapped. If he gave her space, she complained he was being distant. It was driving him insane, but he knew it wasn’t really her fault.

Their sex life had also dwindled into sparse encounters, because Y.N was getting too uncomfortable and Aemond was worried about hurting the baby, which Y.N took completely the wrong way and became convinced he was disgusted by her and she bawled her eyes out until he took her to bed and devoured her cunt like a starving man.

One night, things came to a head. After yet another disagreement, Y.N. stormed off to the spare room and slammed the door shut, refusing to speak to him for two days.

Aemond, for his part, left her alone, but the silence between them weighed heavily, filling the apartment with a tension that was almost suffocating.

He kept telling himself it was just the stress and hormones, but it didn’t make it any easier.

And neither did Aegon's closeness to Y.N, it would grate on Aemond consistantly, that he would bear the brunt of her frustration but Aegon would get the smiles and the joy when he would sneak her chilli cheese bites from Burger King or Hot Wings from KFC.

Even Daeron was granted her smiles but him nooooo he was only granted the version of her that resembled a man eating beast from those damn movies she liked so much.

Sometimes she would glare at him and Aemond was convinced that she was about to eat him alive.

The tension only grew worse when they attended her final midwife appointment. They sat in the examination room, the air thick with unspoken frustrations.

As they waited for the midwife, Marie, to arrive, Aemond began rhythmically tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair.

Y.N. shot him a glare. “Tell me, Aemond, have you always been this irritating?” she snapped.

Aemond frowned, glancing over at her. "I'm not trying to irritate you."

"Well, I guess you just have a natural talent for it," she retorted, her voice sharp and biting.

Aemond sighed, leaning back in the chair. "You know, the midwife will be here soon. Maybe we shouldn’t speak until then."

Y.N. pulled a face, her irritation flaring even more. "Oh, okay then," she said mockingly.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the room filled with palpable tension.

But Y.N., too restless to let it go, spoke up again.

"Seriously, Aemond, breathe louder. That’s great," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Aemond clenched his jaw, shooting her a look. "You know, we should probably ask the midwife if she even knows how to deliver a baby that’s half human and half pure evil."

Before Y.N. could respond, the door opened, and Marie entered the room, wearing her usual kind smile.

"Good morning, Marie! How are you?" Y.N. greeted her with a smile that was shockingly pleasant considering the argument she’d just been having.

Aemond shot her a sideways glance, his frustration bubbling over. "Oh, so you’re nice to her," he muttered darkly.

Y.N. rounded on him, her eyes flashing with irritation. "She has the drugs," she hissed through gritted teeth.

Marie, ever professional, pretended not to notice the exchange as she began her checkup.

"Alright, Y.N., let’s have a quick look," she said gently. Y.N. lay back on the examination table, opening her legs as Marie prepared for the exam.

"Eight days late now, huh? You must be getting pretty uncomfortable," Marie commented sympathetically.

Y.N. let out a dry laugh. "Yeah, just a bit," she said, her tone laced with sarcasm.

Aemond scoffed beside her, but said nothing more.

Marie began the examination, then smiled up at them. "Well, you’re 80% effaced, so things are definitely progressing. But it could still take a little while longer," she explained. "If you’re feeling anxious, there are a few ways to help things along."

"Do them" Aemond blurted out, leaning forward.

The stress of the last few days, combined with his helplessness in this situation, was starting to show.

Marie gave him an understanding smile. "Actually, they’re things you can do at home. Some natural remedies that have been shown to be effective in helping labour along."

Y.N. nodded eagerly. "We’re ready to try anything," she said.

Marie began to list off the options. "Well, there’s an herbal tea you can try, eating spicy food, and taking long walks—"

"Great," Y.N. interrupted. "I’ll do those."

Marie smiled but hesitated for a moment before continuing. "However, there’s one remedy that’s proven to be most effective in encouraging labour-and that’s sex."

Y.N. looked at Aemond with a glimmer of hope in her eyes, but Aemond’s face immediately fell into a look of disbelief.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," he muttered, rubbing his temple.

Aemond and Y.N sat in the penthouse, the dinner table littered with empty plates from what felt like the hundredth spicy meal they'd shared in hopes of triggering labour.

Y.N poked at her remaining enchilada, sighing in frustration.

"Aemond, we've tried all the spicy food. It's not working," she said, exasperated.

Aemond, ever determined, pushed a small plate toward her.

"Okay, how about one of these peppers? It’s supposed to be really hot." He sounded so sure of himself, as he picked on up and took a bite.

Gasping in surprise when the spice burnt his mouth.

Y.N looked at him, rolled her eyes, but took the pepper anyway, popping it into her mouth.

She chewed it with no visible reaction, much to Aemond’s disbelief.

His eye widened as he watched her, while he took a sip of water to cool his burning tongue.

"I feel nothing," she said, almost too casually, as Aemond continued to sip from his glass. Y.N then looked at him with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Speaking of hot, watching you struggle with that pepper really makes me want to have sex with you."

Aemond nearly choked on his water, setting the glass down with a thud.

"Stop it," he muttered, wiping his mouth.

"Oh, come on," Y.N teased. "Why are we wasting time with all this other stuff? We know what's going to work. It's midwife recommended."

"We have to have some boundaries," Aemond said sternly, his resolve trying to hold firm.

Y.N scoffed. "You didn’t care about boundaries when you were putting the baby in there." She crossed her arms and raised a brow at him.

Aemond shot her a look. "As I recall, you were also an active participant."

Y.N waved her hand dismissively. "That’s not the point, and you know it."

Aemond sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I’m not going to make love to you just so you’ll go into labour."

Y.N laughed loudly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Make love? What are you, a girl?"

"Always a great way to get into a man’s pants," Aemond muttered sarcastically, rolling his eye.

"No-come on wuss, make loooove to me" said Y.N smirking.

"Seriously-" exclaimed Aemond.

Y.N leaned forward, her voice dripping with humour. "Come on, just think of it as providing a service. Just think of me as a ketchup bottle—sometimes you’ve gotta bang on the end of it to get something out."

Aemond shot her a deadpan look, his voice flat. "I love it when you talk dirty to me."

"Aemy-" Y.N whined, pouting a little as she leaned her elbows on the table. "I’m miserable here." She looked at him with wide eyes, batting her lashes playfully, and the use of her nickname for him weakened his resolve.

Aemond clenched his jaw. "You—what—never mind."

"What, Aemy? Are you not going to talk?" she teased, mockingly. "How on earth will you ever annoy me? Oh, wait a minute, I know—" She exaggerated her breathing, mimicking the way Aemond breathed loudly, then added with a smirk, "You’d think that damn pepper would’ve cleared your sinuses, but nooo-"

Before she could say anything more, Aemond lunged toward her, pulling her into a deep, heated kiss that took her by surprise.

Y.N blinked up at him, breathless. "What are you doing?"

He took her hand firmly, standing up and pulling her toward the bedroom, his face set with determination. "I’m getting that baby out of you."

Aemond was jolted awake by the sound of a pained cry and the sharp clatter of glass smashing. His heart pounded in his chest as he shot up in bed, immediately noticing that Y.N. wasn’t beside him.

Panic surged through him as he leapt out of bed, rushing toward the source of the noise.

Entering the kitchen, he found Y.N. hunched over, clutching the counter, her face twisted in pain. A shattered glass lay scattered across the floor.

"Y.N.?" he called out, his voice tight with concern.

She turned her head toward him, her face pale and strained. "I think it's time," she gasped before letting out another cry, her body wracked with pain.

Without hesitation, Aemond carefully made his way over, avoiding the broken glass, and gently took her hand. She clung to him, shaking as he helped move her away from the mess.

Y.N. suddenly gasped, looking down as a trickle of water began to run down her legs. Her wide eyes met his, fear and excitement swirling within them.

"It's definitely time," Aemond confirmed, trying to remain calm despite the rapid thudding of his heart.

"I need to get changed first," she whispered through laboured breaths.

Aemond helped her to the bedroom, supporting her as they slowly made their way across the penthouse.

He carefully dressed her in comfortable clothes, his fingers trembling as he moved. Then he quickly threw on jeans and a shirt, grabbing the suitcase Y.N. had packed weeks ago.

Just as they were about to leave, another contraction hit, and Y.N. cried out in pain, her hand clutching Aemond’s forearm tightly.

His heart ached at the sight of her discomfort, but he stayed steady, whispering reassurances.

"You're doing great. Just breathe," he murmured, kissing her forehead.

He grabbed his car keys, and together, they made their way out of the penthouse.

The drive to the hospital was agonizing for Aemond, though he tried his best to keep calm.

Every pained cry or sharp gasp from Y.N. made his hands tighten on the wheel, his heart clenching painfully.

He hated seeing her in so much discomfort, knowing there was little he could do but get her to the hospital as quickly as possible.

Finally, they arrived. Aemond parked the car and immediately helped Y.N. inside, gripping her hand as she leaned on him for support.

He helped her check in at the front desk, and she looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, her voice trembling.

"Please, don’t leave me," she whispered, her fear evident.

Aemond's heart clenched, and he pulled her closer, brushing a kiss to her forehead. "I won’t ever leave you. I promise."

"I-I'm sorry for being such a bitch to you"

"It's ok-it's all forgotten" replied Aemond.

As she was being checked over by the nurses, Aemond quickly sent off a text to his mother, letting her know that Y.N. was in labour.

He then shot off a quick message to Helaena, knowing she’d take care of informing Aegon and Daeron.

The moment he heard Y.N. calling for him, his phone was forgotten. He rushed back into the room, his heart pounding with urgency.

"I'm here," he said softly, taking her hand in his as he knelt beside her. "I’m not going anywhere."

Hours had passed, and the labour had intensified. Y.N was in agony as each contraction ripped through her body, her face contorted in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Aemond remained at her side the entire time, unable to bear seeing her like this. His heart ached with every pained cry she made.

He had lashed out at the midwives more than once, demanding they do something—anything—to help her.

But all they could do was reassure him that everything was progressing as it should.

Despite his own helpless frustration, Aemond never let go of Y.N's hand, even as she squeezed it with such force he was sure his bones would crack under the pressure.

But he would endure it without a second thought. Pressing kisses to her sweat-soaked forehead, he whispered constant encouragement, telling her to breathe, reminding her she was doing great.

And then, it was time to push.

Y.N cried out, her strength nearly spent. "I don’t know if I can keep doing this," she gasped, her voice trembling with exhaustion.

Aemond immediately leaned in, his forehead pressed to hers, his voice low but firm. "Yes, you can. You’re the strongest, smartest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. I can’t live without you." His words were filled with so much love and admiration that despite her pain, Y.N found the strength to push again.

The midwife, Marie, encouraged her as the baby’s head crowned. "Just one more, Y.N. You’re so close!"

With a final scream, Y.N pushed, and suddenly, the sound of a baby’s strong, healthy cries filled the room.

Aemond’s voice trembled as he whispered, "He’s here. Oh, gods, he’s here."

Y.N, exhausted, collapsed back against the pillows, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

But Aemond’s joyful cry brought her back. She opened her eyes and struggled to sit up, her chest heaving as she took in the sight of their newborn son.

Aemond, eyes filled with unshed tears, helped her sit up, his hands trembling.

As Marie placed the squalling, wriggling newborn onto Y.N's chest, happy tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Oh, he’s so beautiful," she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion as she gazed down at their son.

Aemond, who rarely allowed his emotions to show so openly, sobbed quietly as he stared at the tiny life they had created.

His eye was glued to the baby’s small, delicate features—his tiny hands, his soft, silver hair, and those piercing blue eyes.

"He looks just like you," Y.N said softly, running her fingers through the baby’s soft hair. She smiled up at Aemond, who was rendered speechless by the overwhelming love he felt.

His child. Their son.

Marie gently asked, "Does he have a name?"

Y.N nodded, her voice filled with pride and love. "Jack Aemond Targaryen."

As the midwife, Marie, finished wrapping up baby Jack in a soft blanket, she turned to Aemond and asked, "Would you like to hold your son?"

Aemond froze, panic flashing in his eye. "I-I've never held a baby before."

Marie smiled reassuringly. "Don’t worry, I’ll show you how." With practiced hands, she gently placed Jack into Aemond’s arms, guiding him on how to support his tiny head.

Slowly, Aemond’s tension melted as he adjusted, the weight of his son both heavy with responsibility and light as a feather.

Before he knew it, Aemond was grinning, a quiet, proud smile tugging at his lips as he looked down at his son. Jack squirmed slightly but remained peaceful in his arms, so small and perfect.

Aemond's chest tightened with an overwhelming rush of emotion. The world around him seemed to blur, everything else vanishing as he stared at the life he had helped create.

As the midwives began tending to Y.N and the afterbirth, Aemond remained mesmerized by his son. The reality of fatherhood hit him hard in this quiet moment.

When Y.N had first told him she was pregnant, he had offered his support immediately, without hesitation. But deep down, he’d been terrified. His own father had been distant, cold—an example of everything a father shouldn’t be.

Aemond had no idea how to be a good father, how to give his son the love and care he deserved.

But now, holding Jack in his arms, a surge of love, unlike anything he had ever felt, filled him. He vowed silently, with everything in him, that his son would never feel the same isolation and neglect that he had experienced.

Jack would always know he was loved, that Aemond was there for him in every way. He would give his son the attention and affection that he himself had longed for.

Once Y.N had been helped and everything was sorted, Marie mentioned she could take a shower to freshen up.

Aemond carefully placed Jack in his cot and immediately went to help Y.N. She was a bit unsteady on her feet, the exhaustion of labour evident, so Aemond stayed close, supporting her as they made their way to the bathroom.

He washed her hair gently, his hands tender as he helped her clean up, mindful of her every movement.

She had already started bleeding, so he helped her with the pad and assisted in getting her dressed.

When they returned, he had pulled a few strings and arranged for Y.N. to have a private room.

Once she was comfortable and laid in bed, Aemond couldn’t resist stroking her cheek. He leaned down and kissed her, soft and full of love.

Y.N's fingers instinctively tangled in his hair, and she whispered, "You keep kissing me."

Aemond pulled back slightly, worry creeping in. Was he pushing too much? Overwhelming her with affection when she might need space?

"Do you-want me to stop?" he asked, his voice careful, trying to hide his uncertainty.

Y.N’s fingers brushed over her lips, and she quickly replied, "No."

A wide smile broke across Aemond's face, his relief and happiness palpable. "I'm happy, Y.N. So happy."

She touched his face, her eyes soft and filled with emotion. "So am I."

This was it—the moment he had been waiting for. Aemond’s heart pounded in his chest as he took a deep breath.

Now or never. He leaned closer, his heart swelling with emotion. "I-I want to tell you that I lov—"

Before the words could leave his lips, the door burst open. Aegon strutted in, followed closely by Alicent, Daeron, and Helaena.

Aemond bit back a groan, his moment lost as his family swarmed into the room.

Alicent’s face lit up with joy as she carefully took Jack into her arms for the first time. Her eyes softened as she gazed down at her first grandchild, her smile tender and full of love.

"Oh, he's beautiful," she whispered. She gently rocked him, her heart swelling as she savoured the moment. “What’s his name?”

Aemond, standing proudly beside Y.N’s bed, smiled and said, “Jack.”

Alicent raised her brows slightly, surprised. “Jack? It’s not very Targaryen,” she remarked, though her tone was more curious than critical.

Aemond nodded. “It’s in honour of Y.N’s grandfather.”

At that, Alicent’s face softened even more. She nodded approvingly, clearly touched by the gesture.

"That's lovely," she said, staring down at her grandson with pride and affection.

Of course, Aegon couldn’t resist making his presence known. “So, Y.N.,” he asked with a mischievous grin, “how much did it hurt?”

Y.N. narrowed her eyes at him, unimpressed. “How about I kick you in the balls, and then you’ll have an idea?”

Aegon grimaced, backing off slightly as Daeron burst into laughter. “She’s got you there,” Daeron teased, clapping Aegon on the back.

Meanwhile, Helaena stood nearby, completely mesmerized by her tiny nephew. She leaned in, peering at him with wide, curious eyes. “He’s so perfect,” she murmured, utterly enamoured.

Suddenly, Jack began to cry, his small face scrunching up as the sound filled the room.

Alicent chuckled softly. “Sounds like someone is hungry,” she said as she carefully handed him back to Y.N.

Y.N. exposed her breast and gently guided Jack to latch on, and he began to nurse immediately, his cries fading.

A moment of quiet awe fell over the room as they watched the newborn find comfort in his mother’s arms.

Daeron shook his head in disbelief, glancing over at Aemond. “I still can’t believe you’re a dad,” he said, smiling.

Aemond, beaming with pride, hugged his younger brother. “Neither can I,” he admitted, his voice full of wonder.

Aegon, true to form, was less subtle. His attention was quickly drawn to Y.N. breastfeeding. “Whoa, look at him go. He’s definitely your kid, Aemond.”

Without missing a beat, Aemond slapped Aegon on the back of the head. “Don’t look at her breast, you pervert.”

Aegon shrugged, rubbing his head. “It was an accident.”

Aemond, his patience wearing thin, glared at him. “Get the fuck out,” he demanded.

Leaning over, Aegon pressed a soft kiss to Y.N.’s forehead. “I’ll come back soon.”

Y.N., still nursing Jack, smiled up at him and said, “Can you bring me a chocolate bar and some Lucozade when you do?”

 “Anything for you, Y.N.,” said Aegon with a cheeky grin as he sauntered out of the room, completely ignoring Aemond’s death glare.

As Aegon left, Daeron leaned in and whispered to Aemond, “He’s doing it on purpose. Ignore him, and he’ll give up.”

Aemond huffed. “He’ll give up when my fist is in his face.”

Y.N. suddenly yawned, exhausted from the day’s events. Noticing, Aemond turned to the others. “Alright, that’s enough excitement for one day. It’s time for Y.N. to rest.”

Alicent leaned over and kissed Y.N. gently on the cheek. “You did so well, my dear. Rest now,” she said softly.

Helaena smiled warmly. “I’ll make some meals for you both, so you won’t have to worry about cooking once you’re home.”

Aemond nodded in gratitude as Daeron gave him a firm clap on the back.

“Take care of her and the little one,” Daeron said, waving goodbye to Y.N. as the family made their way out.

After Jack finished nursing, Aemond carefully lifted him to rub his back, gently patting until the baby let out a small burp.

Smiling, Aemond placed him in the little cot beside Y.N. and tucked him in under the soft blanket Helaena had made.

Y.N., exhausted but happy, looked at Aemond. “Will you stay until I fall asleep?”

Aemond nodded immediately. “Of course.”

He sat beside her, taking her hand in his, feeling a deep sense of peace settle over him.

He glanced down at their sleeping son, so small and perfect, and then over to Y.N., who had already begun to drift off, her breathing steady and calm.

Aemond smiled to himself, squeezing her hand gently, thinking how lucky he was to have both of them in his life.

Aemond hurried back to the penthouse, his mind still swirling with the overwhelming realization that he was now a father.

He moved almost on autopilot as he showered and changed into fresh clothes, but the feeling of awe and disbelief remained.

He had a son. His son. It felt surreal.

As he was about to leave for the hospital, he decided to stop by a florist and picked up a bouquet of sunflowers—Y.N.’s favourite.

He wanted to make her smile, to show her how much she meant to him, especially after everything she'd just gone through.

Returning to the hospital, Aemond's good mood evaporated the moment he walked into the room and saw Aegon sitting beside the bed, holding Jack. His brows furrowed as he asked, “Where is Y.N.?”

Aegon, lounging comfortably, glanced up with a grin. “She’s just nipped for a shower. She asked me to watch Jack. Is that okay with you?” he added with a slightly cheeky tone, knowing it would irk Aemond.

Aemond narrowed his eye but sighed. “I suppose so.”

Just then, the bathroom door opened, and Y.N. appeared, looking refreshed in clean pyjamas, her hair wrapped in a towel.

A bright smile crossed her face when she saw Aemond standing there. “Oh, you’re back!” she said warmly, walking over to him.

Aemond wasted no time in wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in for a soft kiss.

“I missed you,” he murmured against her lips before handing her the sunflowers.

Y.N.’s face lit up as she took the flowers. “They’re beautiful. I love them. Thank you,” she said, kissing him again.

Aemond, still basking in her smile, then turned his attention to Jack. He took the baby from Aegon, holding his son close to his chest, instantly feeling that surge of love again as he stared at the tiny face nestled in his arms.

Meanwhile, Aegon reached for a small carrier bag sitting next to him. “Oh, by the way, I got you something,” he said, handing it to Y.N.

She peeked inside and immediately let out a squeal of excitement. “A chocolate bar and Lucozade!”

She hugged Aegon in appreciation before eagerly unwrapping the chocolate and taking a big bite. “You have no idea how much I needed this,” she sighed contentedly.

Aemond watched with a small smile but raised an eyebrow when Y.N. turned to him with more news. “Oh, while you were gone, the midwives said I could go home.”

His smile faded slightly with concern. “Already? Isn’t it a little too soon?”

Y.N. shook her head. “I’d much rather be at home. We can start getting Jack into a routine, and I’ll be more comfortable there.”

Aemond considered it for a moment before nodding. It did make sense. He wanted them home, too—where he could make sure both Y.N. and Jack had everything they needed. “Alright, if you’re sure.”

Aegon piped up then, smirking. “I’ll give you guys a hand.”

Aemond shot him a look. “I’m more than capable of handling it.”

Aegon held up his hands in mock surrender. “I know, but if you’re carrying Jack, you can’t expect Y.N. to carry her suitcase after just having a baby.”

Aemond clenched his jaw, annoyed but unable to argue. Aegon was right.

Before he could reply, the midwife entered the room with a smile and a folder of paperwork. “I’ve got your discharge papers here,” she said, glancing at Y.N. and then Jack.

Aemond sighed, knowing that Aegon’s presence would continue to irritate him, but he focused on the positive—his family was going home, and that was what mattered most.

TBC

[kellystar321]

.

[broke-on-books]

😍😍😍

[4-beans-in-a-bog-askblog]

Did you play the Fontaine archon quest? If so: are you going to adjust your OCs stories to fit into it or are you going to fit the archon quest to fit your OCs? What would change exactly? Are they involved in any of the events related to the Traveler?

(hiiii so to respond to this, umm 1 i havent played the quest- i know a little through spoilers? but i havent played genshin much in past months. and no i am not going to change my story based on the genshin one. i havent made fully fully official yet but right now im actually changing the blog to reflect the world ive made for these ocs! theres a whole giant world and a lot of lore ive made for all of this so hope enjoy it even if its not gonna be connected to genshin.)

[trans-xianxian]

walked across the river instead of taking the bus today because it was coming in like 20 minutes lmao but anyway I just thought it looked pretty :^)

[mercurymacaroons]

please god just take it

long time no post, sorry for the hiatus but lmao my rl job threw me through the ringer and then whoops!!!!!! didnt draw for 2+ years. im in a new job now and found out that my settings for clip were fucked up so i did some messing around and now i am having a blast so yeehaw.

this was supposed to be a nose sketch then it somehow turned into the smtv nahobino idk what happened. for a while he looked like chad from accounting but i think i salvaged it kinda maybe. def need to do some more studies on asian people bc it is def not right but i didnt really use any references so thats on me. i dont think im going to finish this, hence the ss, but maybe i will one day. i just wanted to post something since ive started drawing again and should probably dust this blog off at some point

anywho, morbid ordeal of being known aside - if any of yall are still here, do you wanna see just like sketches like this? maybe not this detailed bc that damn nose took too damn long, but i think i could do sketches and thumbnails

[tonycries]

One More? Please? - G.S.

Synopsis. A kiss always solves everything! But when a kiss turns into something more…well, it’s only a desperate attempt to unseal yourselves from this damned prison realm, right? Right?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, coworkers to lovers, being stuck in that damn box, oral (female), mutual másturbation, spitting, fáce-sítting, máting press, Satoru is down bad for you, chóking, overstim, multiple rounds, créampie, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.

Word count. 4.4k

A/N. Happy belated two months to this blog! Concept inspired by this post by @kingkonoha.

“Maybe we should kiss and see if the box opens?”

“That’s the dumbest fucking thing to ever come out of your mouth.”

“Hey- it works in the movies! True love’s kiss and all-”

You heave out a heavy sigh that makes even the skeleton at your shoulder shake its head in pity. Goddamn, if these curses weren’t going to kill him then you will. 

“I take it back. That’s the dumbest fucking thing to ever come out of your mouth.”

Satoru hooks a thumb over his blindfold to gaze at you with mock seriousness. Oh, how the mighty have fallen - and how you were teetering dangerously close to a stroke with each dramatic bat of his long lashes.

“C’monnn~” he whines, with the flair of someone that was not sealed in an inescapable prison, “Don’t tell me that in all these years you’ve never once been at least a little tempted to kiss me, sweetheart.” 

“I’d rather kiss that dusty skull.” Shooting him a pointed look that makes even the skulls at your feet recoil. It would almost be hilarious if it wasn’t for the fact that you were trapped. In the prison realm. With Gojo Satoru of all people. Possibly forever.

Shit, is this karma for all those times you ditched Satoru with Nanami instead of dealing with him yourself?

Now, Satoru might be going about it with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, but just a few minutes ago when his life flashed before his very eyes at the mere sight of Suguru - or at least, the monster wearing his body - he’d expected some of his favorite memories to be the ones with you in it. 

You - his lil’ coworker - in all your gorgeous, smart-mouthed glory. And maybe if he was lucky, he even expected a couple glimpses of you in his future. Preferably with a giant rock on your finger.

But that’s a story for another time, what he certainly did not expect was for your stupidly heroic (and quite beautiful) ass to jump right in the middle of the prison realm’s ensnarement. 

Although, honestly, right now he doesn’t think he’d want to be locked up in here with anyone but you - and that withering glare you send him. 

Undeterred, Satoru has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh. Laugh. A sound you’ve come to realize over the years, as innocent as it sounds, does not bode well for you or your sanity. 

A sanity that’s been slowly dwindling since your first day of meeting Satoru. Back then, a brash, cocky new teacher that waltzed into the halls of Jujutsu Tech in those pretentious sunglasses like he owned the place. 

Well, not that he was any different right now. Lounging over some disgruntled skeletons, you half-expected him to pull out a deck chair and start sunbathing amidst the bones. Your begrudging coworker - and occasional bane of your existence - seemed right at home. 

You, however, were decidedly not having the time of your life. 

“I swear, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you grumble, wincing at the bones prodding you from almost every angle. 

“Can you blame me?” he hums, now fully tugging down his blindfold to hang around his neck, “It’s not every day I get to spend quality time with my favorite person in the world.”

You scoff, strangely self-conscious as those striking blue sweep your figure from head to toe. “Lucky me. Well why don’t you spend this quality time helping me figure out how the hell we can get out of here.”

“I already told y-”

“Anything but that.”

With a sulky huff, Satoru peers down at you, “Then we just wait till someone gets us out of here. I’m sure Megumi-chan is just tearing his emo hair out trying to unseal this thing.”

“...”

“You’re absolutely correct, Yuji then. Or…” he tilts his head towards a sad pile of bones, “We end up like our little friend over there. Though I’d make a far better looking skeleton-”

You don’t hear the rest of Satoru’s rant over the small noise of concern that falls from your lips. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach at the fact that yes you really were stuck in the prison realm with Gojo Satoru. Possibly forever. And no this wasn’t some strange dream like when you and Shoko accidentally raided the wrong brownie box in the kitchen.

Shit. 

And perhaps it showed on your face, because you’re jolted out of your reverie by warm fingers intertwining with yours. Grounding. Satoru’s eyes now searching yours with an intensity that made you squirm uncomfortably. 

“Hey, we’ll figure this out, okay?” he mutters softly. “Remember that time we accidentally set the training ground on fire?” leaning in closer now, “Or that mission we got chased by that cursed vending machine?”

You roll your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite yourself. “Yeah, and then you nearly got us killed trying to order a sweet tea. ”

Satoru chuckles, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “See? It worked out, didn’t it? It always does, sweetheart.” 

And if your heart does a strange little lurch, well, then you just blame it on the femur jabbing into your side. 

All is quiet in your little hell. That is, until.

“Hey, Satoru…does kissing really work in the movies?” 

You barely catch the way Satoru’s breath hitches ever-so-slightly as he leans in closer. eyes sparkling with mischief. And oh you knew that look - one that was usually accompanied by a lecture by Yaga, one that sent shivers down your spine. He grins, “Well, there’s only one way to find out, hm?”

Embarrassment and amusement bubbles inside you, tumbling out in the form of a barely-audible, “A peck. One.”

“Awww. Eight?”’

“No.”

“Five?”

“Satoru.”

Minty breath fanning your face, “Okay okay, one peck and a kiss to your forehead. C’mon, it’s a bargain~”

Pinching your nose, you sigh out a weary, “This is so stupid. Fine, but if it doesn’t work then I’m strangling you.”

And it’s all that is said before his lips are on yours.  

Soft. Satoru’s lips were so soft. And he tasted so unfairly of caramel apples and sweet, sweet mischief. Just like him. Feather-light and fleeting - yet the kiss burns into your brain with an intensity that you strangely didn’t mind.

It’s over before you know it. The cold air hits your lips as Satoru’s words ring in your ears, a disappointed little, “Aw, that didn’t work.”

Barely even risking a glance at the still very sealed realm, your body reacts before your mind - the expensive cotton of his uniform collar soft against your fingers as you pull Satoru towards you with a sense of urgency you can’t quite explain.

And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you because shit this is all that Satoru’s been dreaming about since he turned 23 and suddenly realized that oh you were frighteningly everything that he ever wanted. 

“S-Satoru,” you whisper, breathless against his lips. 

“Shhhh, my girl. One more. Didn’t work.” 

His lips are searing on yours. Urgent and greedy, because fuck if it took getting trapped in the prison realm to finally kiss you then God knows when he’ll be able to again. 

Which is why he breathes you in like he doesn’t have enough time, and probably never will - even in this godforsaken box where time never passes. 

“Shit. O-one more.”

Drinking in your sweet gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours, tasting how sinfully delicious you were. Satoru’s hands wander the expanse of your body, cupping your head to kiss you deeper, snaking down to squeeze your ass - and everything in between. 

Pulling away ever-so-slightly with a playful bite to your bottom lip, he leaves a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. The disappointed whine that leaves your pretty mouth makes all the blood in Satoru’s body rush to his cock. 

“Sweetheart.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, lips ghosting over your racing pulse. “Y’think I kissed the wrong lips?”

Oh? 

Satoru’s words send a jolt of electricity running down your spine - all the way down to your heated cunt. “W-what?” you managed to choke out, cheeks flaring as he raises his eyes to meet yours and-

Oh.

Oh, shit. If the curses weren’t going to kill you then Satoru sure might. 

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Satoru carefully jostling the two of you so that he’s lying on his back, your body manhandled to straddle his pretty face. 

“Satoru, when you mean ‘wrong lips’...here?” you trail off, still reeling from him and the abrupt change in position and him. 

“Exactly what I mean,” he chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating beneath your dripping cunt. “Now, spread ‘em wider f’me. Let me taste you- Need it s’bad.”

Body moving as if on autopilot, your knees part wider to let him greedily take in the sight of your soaked panties. Beads of slick seeping through the thin fabric each time his hot breath meets your cunt. 

But not for long - the cool air hits you before you realize what’s happening. Because Satoru is ripping your flimsy panties off with one hand. Throwing it behind to God-knows-where with the urgency of a madman. 

“Shit, so wet f’me already.” he groans, mouth watering at the obscene sight of you clenching around nothing. “S’gorgeous. You really are perfect everywhere, huh?” he mutters through lazy, languid kisses along your thighs. Tongue darting out just so to leisurely trace circles along the heated skin. 

Strong arms wrap around your thighs, the stretch nothing with the two long fingers spreading your swollen folds apart. Your face burns from just how adoring Satoru looks below you.

You buck into his touch, “Hngh- Please. Wan’ your mouth on me.”

And perhaps the great Gojo Satoru decided to be merciful for once in his life, because without another word, he’s surging forward. Tongue flicking out to tease your sloppy entrance, pooling your juices before tipping his head back, back, back to let it slide down his throat so sinfully.

Shit, Satoru could just cum in his pants right now, of course you taste heavenly. Better than he could’ve ever imagined on any lonely night. 

You shudder as he flattens his tongue across your folds, sliding teasingly between them, grazing your swollen clit just barely at an unhurried rhythm that almost has Satoru forgetting where he was. But quite frankly, he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it either.

“This what you wanted, sweetheart?” he hums around your clit, the vibrations making you squeal. Sucking gently, tongue rolling harshly against your bundle of nerves, over and over- “Cause it’s what I’ve been wanting for years.”

The words ring in your ears almost as much as the lewd squelches below. Years?

“F-fuck- feels hngh- What do you mean y-years, Satoru?” 

Oh, Satoru thinks he could pass out just at the way you whine out his name so prettily. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, a hand hastily snaking down to unbuckle his pants. “Mhmm~ Couldn’t go a day without sparring with you where I didn’t think of bending you over and tasting you right there y’know.”

Your eyes snap down to meet Satoru’s hazy, half-lidded ones. Something dark and feral shining within them. And right now, thighs wrapped around his head, you don’t think he’s ever looked happier. White locks splayed out, a fucked-out expression on his face as his tongue bullies past your folds, you could feel the slight smile curling his lips against you. 

It’s overwhelming - both his confession and the way Satoru was making out with your cunt like a man starved.

Nose-deep in your pussy, tongue alternating between its abuse on your throbbing clit and dipping in and out of your sloppy hole at a maddening pace. Mouth only speeding up ruthlessly at the way you convulse and grind involuntarily on top of him.

God, Satoru was going insane at the way your walls were sucking him up so good, clamping down with each push of his tongue. 

“Shit- made jus’ f’me. You like that, don’t you?” he growls against your cunt, voice hoarse with desire. “Like fucking my face with your pussy?”

“Oh! Ngh, yes Satoru- L-love it-”

A bruising grip on your hips, encouraging you to rock against his face. Harder. Tongue more desperate. He couldn’t get enough. Meeting your every grind, tongue lapping at your cunt so obscenely. 

Breaths ragged and hot against your cunt, drinking you in with the desperation of a man that wouldn’t mind giving up air for your essence. And it was Satoru - of course he wouldn’t mind.

Especially with the large hand snaking up your thigh, going from drawing reassuring patterns at your hips to rubbing tight, little circles on your pulsing clit. Hasty, and urgent - like he had no time to waste. “Tha’s right, my girl. Give it up for me,”

Every cell in your body is on fire, every nerve ending singing with pleasure at the way Satoru plays your body like an instrument. 

“M’close, Satoru- Hah- s’close.” you moan breathlessly, a hand tangling in his soft strands. Using it as leverage to ride Satoru’s pretty face just the way you like it.

But you didn’t have to - because Satoru seems to already know exactly what to do. Exactly how to quirk his tongue just right to brush against all your most sensitive spots. Exactly how to match the rhythm of his abuse on your clit to the way he was tonguefucking you into delirium. Exactly how to look at you with such a hungry expression that devours you almost as much as his mouth. 

“Cum f’me, sweetheart.”

Satoru didn’t even have to ask. Because you’re cumming with a strangled gasp of his name. White-hot pleasure coursing through you like lightning, body trembling as you cum all over Satoru’s pretty face. 

Hands moving your limp, boneless hips across his face, forcing you to ride out peak after peak on his red lips.

As the blood roaring in your ears bates, and you blink back your vision, the first thing you see are those familiar blue eyes gazing up at you. Holding you steady, lips brushing gentle kisses along your inner thighs. 

Oh, how beautiful he was like this.

“S-S’toru?” you mewl, still sensitive from your orgasm as Satoru shifts underneath you to sit you prettily in his lap.

“Mhm?” he nuzzles your neck.

“One more. It didn’t work.”

Oh, if you knew the only way to shut up Gojo Satoru was to say something like this then you would’ve done it a lot sooner. 

But Satoru’s stunned silence doesn’t last for long, because he grins, low and sultry, “You’re right. It didn’t work.”

The metallic clinking of a belt echoes in the stuffy chamber as Satoru hastily pushes down his pants. Cock springing free to hit his lower abs, “What a shame.”

You blink at the sheer size of him - he was going to split you in two. It was unfair, really. Water is wet. Gojo Satoru has a big dick. 

But oh was he pretty - so pretty.  Prominent veins glistening in the dim lighting, fat tip flushed your favorite shade of delicate pink, leaking furiously in between your thighs.

Gulping, you reach out to wrap your hand around his achingly hard cock. So warm and heavy in your hands. “Y-yeah, what a shame.”

Both of you watch - entranced - at the way he twitches in your grasp at the mere sound of your voice. A maddening little bump! bump! bump! against your palm as you begin pumping him slowly - so agonizingly slow. 

“Oh- Feel s’good, sweetheart.” Satoru hisses lowly as you swipe at the precum beading at this head. Thumbing teasingly under his sensitive slit, tracing delicately along his veins. 

And by God does it do something to you to see the great Gojo Satoru falling apart for you, hair tousled, lips kiss-bitten, and eyes looking at you like he wanted to positively eat you alive. It made your cunt throb so desperately, slick forming a dark wet patch on his trousers. 

Not one to be left behind, his long fingers deftly snake down to your dripping cunt. Not wasting any time before bullying his fingertips past your swollen folds, curling expertly to press down against that one spot that has your fist faltering on his cock. Hard. 

Pretty little moans left your lips at the way Satoru so easily matches your pace. Thrusting knuckle-deep into your pussy in and out - hitting that spot over and over.

“Shit, Toru- s’deep inside me. I’m- hngh-”

Satoru was in heaven, really. You were so warm and wet around both his fingers and his throbbing cock. 

Only two thoughts running through his mind right now - 1. He was right, your hands were softer and more sinfully delicious around his swollen cock. And 2. The hardest battle he’s ever fought was probably right now - at your mercy, trying not to spill all over your hands because he’d be damned if he finally scored the girl and came in two seconds.

Shit, he thinks fingers almost erratic now, he needs you to cum. Right now. 

As if sensing his urgency, your moves become more frantic, Satoru’s brows furrowing at the way you increase your pace. His hips twitch, as if trying to thrust into your fist. matching your pace as you start stroking him harder, faster. 

Ah, but alas, the great Gojo Satoru’s reputation precedes him. 

“Oh, fuck- M’gonna-” And soon enough, you’re seeing stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - as you cum. Hard. 

Body moving before your mind, you’re clenching around Satoru’s fingers, grinding down so ferally as you edge him closer and closer. “C’mon, Toru. One more, right?” you whisper brokenly, lips ghosting his ear.

Breath coming in short, strained gasps of what sounded like your name now, “Oh- fuck ngh- so close.” he warns, voice hoarse. “If you keep doing that, I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

You smirk, raising a brow, “Is that a threat, Satoru?”

Willing his fucked-out eyes open, they bore into yours as he utters, “No, ah- it’s a p-promise.”

Without warning, Satoru clasps your wrists, forcing you to stop pumping him. The disappointed mewl threatening to spill from your lips is cut off just as your back hits the ground.

Slam!

You think you could almost get whiplash from how swiftly Satoru had you caged and splayed out so shamefully beneath him. 

You whine, “But you didn’t even get to-”

“Fuck, not now. Gotta feel you or else m’gonna cum so embarrassingly all over your fist.” He rests his throbbing erection laid out so enticingly across your stomach, leaking hot precum onto your skin. And that makes you shut up, eyes mapping where it ended and realizing that yeah, you might’ve faced more mercy with the curses outside of this box. “Besides. One more, right?”

And before you can respond, Satoru’s spitting on you once. Twice. Thrice.

You flinch as the wads of saliva hit your dripping cunt, mixing with your slick so obscenely as Satoru smears it across your swollen folds. Your mouth drops into a soft oh! of disbelief as he promptly pops his thumb into his mouth, groaning at the taste. 

“Shit.” Satoru hisses lowly, “One more might just not be enough.”

Not wasting a moment longer, he’s bullying his throbbing cock into your snug cunt. Head thrown back as your plush walls desperately try to accommodate his size.

“Oh. Oh shit hah- should’ve been locked up here ngh- sooner.” he groans, words straight from his cock. “Feel s’heavenly around m-me.” Because God Satoru thinks he wouldn’t even mind staying here for the rest of his life if it meant he got to have you like this.

You moan at the positively delicious stretch of your pussy, plush walls unable to decide between pushing him out and milking the soul out of him. “Hah- Toru s’too big. I can’t-” 

“You will.” he grits out, teeth clenched and brows furrowed as he focuses on letting you adjust. Pressing inch by fucking inch. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he fights that feral part of himself that just wants to plunge into your pretty pussy till his tip kisses your cervix, and you’re drunk on nothing but his cock.

But he didn’t have to - because you’re immediately wrapping your legs around his toned waist, pulling Satoru to you recklessly until his heavy balls smack your ass. Tufts of snowy white hair - already so wet with your slick and his precum - finally meeting your cunt.

“Ah! Shit, s’full Toru.” you keen, body bowing into his.

There’s not even a hair's breadth between your bodies now as Satoru chuckles darkly. “You little minx. Thought you couldn’t handle me, but you really wanted to be split apart on my cock, huh?”

You feel almost shy under his gaze as you mumble out a quiet little, “Well you did say one more.”

Ah, Satoru thinks deliriously, if you aren’t Mrs. Gojo by the time you two get out of this then there’s seriously something wrong with him. 

But he doesn’t tell you that. Instead with a satisfied smirk, he claims your lips in a searing kiss, sucking your tongue so lewdly as he did with your cunt. Parting for only a second before pressing his lips to yours again. And again. And again, as if it hurt to part.

“Mhm. Always wanted to do this, sweetheart.” he hums against your pretty lips. “Fuck ever since you hah- walked in on that first day.” 

Kissing you sweetly with a tenderness that doesn’t translate to his hips as pulls back, back, back. All the way till his angry, hard tip was just grazing your sloppy entrance. “One more.”

Body moving before his mind, his hips start fucking into your dripping cunt recklessly. Satoru doesn’t fuck you with the finesse he imagined he would all these years, rough, harsh thrusts fueled by pure need and all the desperation from these last few years.

In one, fluid movement, the burn of the stretch hits you before the realization that Satoru has thrown your legs over his sculpted shoulders. 

“Ah- So good, Toru. Oh my god- hah-” you mewl at the change in angle. His pulsing dick expertly hitting that one spot inside you which has your words slurring together, body arching off the floor to press so impossibly close against him. 

And, well, Satoru isn’t any better - because he’s slamming his cock into you mindlessly. Hitting that spot over and over. 

With one hand, he caresses your stomach. Whispering out a ragged, “Feel me inside? Feel me right…” Pressing his palm down hard, “Here.”

The other forces you to look up at him, drinking in your whines of “Yes yes yes, can feel you s-so deep hngh- inside me, Toru.” 

You’re so cockdrunk and full of Satoru that you barely notice the hands groping their way down your body. Catching harshly on your swollen clit, starting to draw, quick, frenzied circles that match the cadence of his hips smacking into yours. 

“Look at me.” he murmurs raspily, “Open your mouth.”

And you can do nothing but take it, tongue lolling out so lewdly for the warm stream of spit that hits it. Once. Twice. 

You look up at him with teary eyes, as you take it all -  anything and everything he was giving. And it makes Satoru bow his head with a fucked-out groan, cock twitching so animalistically as it keeps plunging inside you roughly. Deft fingers on your clit becoming more desperate.

Harder. Faster. Balls squeezing so painfully. Like a lamb to slaughter, he was going to eat you up - and you were going to let thim.

You squeal at the overstimulation, hips bucking up for more more more-

“God, sweetheart, you don’t know what you do to me.” he moans, voice strained with desire and the euphoria of getting everything he’s wanted for so long. It was driving him insane. “Now c’mon. One more. Give me one more like my good girl.”

“Hngh- yes- Toru!”

You don’t even know what “one more” means anymore - all you do know is that you’re cumming and cumming all around Satoru’s unforgiving cock. Walls fluttering so snugly, your body convulses as you cream around his cock. Nails dragging down the expanse of his sculpted back, Satoru’s name leaving your bruised lips and into the heady air like a prayer every time his tip kisses your cervix. His new favorite melody.

And that seems to be what makes him snap as well - because with a final, sloppy thrust, he’s painting your walls such a sinful white. Pumping thick, hot ropes of his cum into your quivering cunt. 

“Shit- yeah, my girl. Take it. Take it all f’me.” Satoru shudders above you, head thrown back, chest heaving as he fucks you through your high. Movements nothing more than shallow, mindless little thrusts to get you both off so animalistically. 

It was so fucking filthy - and exactly what you needed so badly. He was exactly what you needed so badly. 

Now, Satoru only had to take one look as you use him so obscenely for your pleasure - eyes dazed, drool trickling down the corner of your mouth - before he thinks he might just cum again. And again. And again until he physically couldn’t anymore.

But first…

Pulling out of your heavenly pussy with a lewd pop! His long fingers delicately collects the mixture of slick and cum now gushing out of you obscenely. 

Aw, what a waste, Satoru muses as it pools below you sinfully. If it was up to him he wouldn’t waste a single drop from your pretty cunt. 

But no matter. 

Abruptly, Satoru bullies two fingers into your mouth - forcing you to taste yourself, to taste him. Pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way that has you choking and gagging around him, teary eyes just begging up at him. Perfect - you were so perfect for him. 

Kissing your forehead with a tenderness that doesn’t match his actions, he hums, faux innocence lacing his words, “What a shame, the box didn’t open yet.”

And oh does he love the excitement lighting up your exhausted eyes. Pretty thighs twitching underneath him as a slow, fucked-out little smile curls your lips. 

“One more? Please?”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[highladyluck]

The Dungeon Meshi renaissance is making me want to share the resources that taught me how to cook.

Don’t forget, you can check out cookbooks from the library!

Smitten Kitchen: The rare recipe blog where the blog part is genuinely good & engaging, but more important: this is a home cook who writes for home cooks. If Deb recommends you do something with an extra step, it’s because it’s worth it. Her recipes are reliable & have descriptive instructions that walk you through processes. Her three cookbooks are mostly recipes not already on the site, & there are treasures in each of them.

Six Seasons: A New Way With Vegetables by Joshua McFadden: This is a great guide to seasonal produce & vegetable-forward cooking, and in addition to introducing me to new-to-me vegetables (and how to select them) it quietly taught me a number of things like ‘how to make a tasty and interesting puréed soup of any root veggie’ and ‘how to make grain salads’ and ‘how to make condiments’.

Grains for Every Season: Rethinking Our Way With Grains by Joshua McFadden: in addition to infodumping in grains, this codifies some of the formulas I picked up unconsciously just by cooking a lot from the previous book. I get a lot of mileage out of the grain bowl mix-and-match formulas (he’s not lying, you can do a citrus vinaigrette and a ranch dressing dupe made with yogurt, onion powder, and garlic powder IN THE SAME DISH and it’s great.)

SALT, FAT, ACID, HEAT by Samin Nosrat: An education in cooking theory & specific techniques. I came to it late but I think it would be a good intro book for people who like to front-load on theory. It taught me how to roast a whole chicken and now I can just, like, do that.

I Dream Of Dinner (so you don’t have to) by Ali Slagle: Ok, look, an important part of learning to cook & cooking regularly is getting kinda burned out and just wanting someone else to tell you what to make. These dinners work well as written and are also great tweakable bases you can use as a starting place.

If you have books or other resources that taught you to cook or that you find indispensable, add ‘em on a reblog.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How I got scammed

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/05/cyber-dunning-kruger/#swiss-cheese-security

I wuz robbed.

More specifically, I was tricked by a phone-phisher pretending to be from my bank, and he convinced me to hand over my credit-card number, then did $8,000+ worth of fraud with it before I figured out what happened. And then he tried to do it again, a week later!

Here's what happened. Over the Christmas holiday, I traveled to New Orleans. The day we landed, I hit a Chase ATM in the French Quarter for some cash, but the machine declined the transaction. Later in the day, we passed a little credit-union's ATM and I used that one instead (I bank with a one-branch credit union and generally there's no fee to use another CU's ATM).

A couple days later, I got a call from my credit union. It was a weekend, during the holiday, and the guy who called was obviously working for my little CU's after-hours fraud contractor. I'd dealt with these folks before – they service a ton of little credit unions, and generally the call quality isn't great and the staff will often make mistakes like mispronouncing my credit union's name.

That's what happened here – the guy was on a terrible VOIP line and I had to ask him to readjust his mic before I could even understand him. He mispronounced my bank's name and then asked if I'd attempted to spend $1,000 at an Apple Store in NYC that day. No, I said, and groaned inwardly. What a pain in the ass. Obviously, I'd had my ATM card skimmed – either at the Chase ATM (maybe that was why the transaction failed), or at the other credit union's ATM (it had been a very cheap looking system).

I told the guy to block my card and we started going through the tedious business of running through recent transactions, verifying my identity, and so on. It dragged on and on. These were my last hours in New Orleans, and I'd left my family at home and gone out to see some of the pre-Mardi Gras krewe celebrations and get a muffalata, and I could tell that I was going to run out of time before I finished talking to this guy.

"Look," I said, "you've got all my details, you've frozen the card. I gotta go home and meet my family and head to the airport. I'll call you back on the after-hours number once I'm through security, all right?"

He was frustrated, but that was his problem. I hung up, got my sandwich, went to the airport, and we checked in. It was total chaos: an Alaska Air 737 Max had just lost its door-plug in mid-air and every Max in every airline's fleet had been grounded, so the check in was crammed with people trying to rebook. We got through to the gate and I sat down to call the CU's after-hours line. The person on the other end told me that she could only handle lost and stolen cards, not fraud, and given that I'd already frozen the card, I should just drop by the branch on Monday to get a new card.

We flew home, and later the next day, I logged into my account and made a list of all the fraudulent transactions and printed them out, and on Monday morning, I drove to the bank to deal with all the paperwork. The folks at the CU were even more pissed than I was. The fraud that run up to more than $8,000, and if Visa refused to take it out of the merchants where the card had been used, my little credit union would have to eat the loss.

I agreed and commiserated. I also pointed out that their outsource, after-hours fraud center bore some blame here: I'd canceled the card on Saturday but most of the fraud had taken place on Sunday. Something had gone wrong.

One cool thing about banking at a tiny credit-union is that you end up talking to people who have actual authority, responsibility and agency. It turned out the the woman who was processing my fraud paperwork was a VP, and she decided to look into it. A few minutes later she came back and told me that the fraud center had no record of having called me on Saturday.

"That was the fraudster," she said.

Oh, shit. I frantically rewound my conversation, trying to figure out if this could possibly be true. I hadn't given him anything apart from some very anodyne info, like what city I live in (which is in my Wikipedia entry), my date of birth (ditto), and the last four digits of my card.

Wait a sec.

He hadn't asked for the last four digits. He'd asked for the last seven digits. At the time, I'd found that very frustrating, but now – "The first nine digits are the same for every card you issue, right?" I asked the VP.

I'd given him my entire card number.

Goddammit.

The thing is, I know a lot about fraud. I'm writing an entire series of novels about this kind of scam:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

And most summers, I go to Defcon, and I always go to the "social engineering" competitions where an audience listens as a hacker in a soundproof booth cold-calls merchants (with the owner's permission) and tries to con whoever answers the phone into giving up important information.

But I'd been conned.

Now look, I knew I could be conned. I'd been conned before, 13 years ago, by a Twitter worm that successfully phished out of my password via DM:

https://locusmag.com/2010/05/cory-doctorow-persistence-pays-parasites/

That scam had required a miracle of timing. It started the day before, when I'd reset my phone to factory defaults and reinstalled all my apps. That same day, I'd published two big online features that a lot of people were talking about. The next morning, we were late getting out of the house, so by the time my wife and I dropped the kid at daycare and went to the coffee shop, it had a long line. Rather than wait in line with me, my wife sat down to read a newspaper, and so I pulled out my phone and found a Twitter DM from a friend asking "is this you?" with a URL.

Assuming this was something to do with those articles I'd published the day before, I clicked the link and got prompted for my Twitter login again. This had been happening all day because I'd done that mobile reinstall the day before and all my stored passwords had been wiped. I entered it but the page timed out. By that time, the coffees were ready. We sat and chatted for a bit, then went our own ways.

I was on my way to the office when I checked my phone again. I had a whole string of DMs from other friends. Each one read "is this you?" and had a URL.

Oh, shit, I'd been phished.

If I hadn't reinstalled my mobile OS the day before. If I hadn't published a pair of big articles the day before. If we hadn't been late getting out the door. If we had been a little more late getting out the door (so that I'd have seen the multiple DMs, which would have tipped me off).

There's a name for this in security circles: "Swiss-cheese security." Imagine multiple slices of Swiss cheese all stacked up, the holes in one slice blocked by the slice below it. All the slices move around and every now and again, a hole opens up that goes all the way through the stack. Zap!

The fraudster who tricked me out of my credit card number had Swiss cheese security on his side. Yes, he spoofed my bank's caller ID, but that wouldn't have been enough to fool me if I hadn't been on vacation, having just used a pair of dodgy ATMs, in a hurry and distracted. If the 737 Max disaster hadn't happened that day and I'd had more time at the gate, I'd have called my bank back. If my bank didn't use a slightly crappy outsource/out-of-hours fraud center that I'd already had sub-par experiences with. If, if, if.

The next Friday night, at 5:30PM, the fraudster called me back, pretending to be the bank's after-hours center. He told me my card had been compromised again. But: I hadn't removed my card from my wallet since I'd had it replaced. Also, it was half an hour after the bank closed for the long weekend, a very fraud-friendly time. And when I told him I'd call him back and asked for the after-hours fraud number, he got very threatening and warned me that because I'd now been notified about the fraud that any losses the bank suffered after I hung up the phone without completing the fraud protocol would be billed to me. I hung up on him. He called me back immediately. I hung up on him again and put my phone into do-not-disturb.

The following Tuesday, I called my bank and spoke to their head of risk-management. I went through everything I'd figured out about the fraudsters, and she told me that credit unions across America were being hit by this scam, by fraudsters who somehow knew CU customers' phone numbers and names, and which CU they banked at. This was key: my phone number is a reasonably well-kept secret. You can get it by spending money with Equifax or another nonconsensual doxing giant, but you can't just google it or get it at any of the free services. The fact that the fraudsters knew where I banked, knew my name, and had my phone number had really caused me to let down my guard.

The risk management person and I talked about how the credit union could mitigate this attack: for example, by better-training the after-hours card-loss staff to be on the alert for calls from people who had been contacted about supposed card fraud. We also went through the confusing phone-menu that had funneled me to the wrong department when I called in, and worked through alternate wording for the menu system that would be clearer (this is the best part about banking with a small CU – you can talk directly to the responsible person and have a productive discussion!). I even convinced her to buy a ticket to next summer's Defcon to attend the social engineering competitions.

There's a leak somewhere in the CU systems' supply chain. Maybe it's Zelle, or the small number of corresponding banks that CUs rely on for SWIFT transaction forwarding. Maybe it's even those after-hours fraud/card-loss centers. But all across the USA, CU customers are getting calls with spoofed caller IDs from fraudsters who know their registered phone numbers and where they bank.

I've been mulling this over for most of a month now, and one thing has really been eating at me: the way that AI is going to make this kind of problem much worse.

Not because AI is going to commit fraud, though.

One of the truest things I know about AI is: "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

I trusted this fraudster specifically because I knew that the outsource, out-of-hours contractors my bank uses have crummy headsets, don't know how to pronounce my bank's name, and have long-ass, tedious, and pointless standardized questionnaires they run through when taking fraud reports. All of this created cover for the fraudster, whose plausibility was enhanced by the rough edges in his pitch - they didn't raise red flags.

As this kind of fraud reporting and fraud contacting is increasingly outsourced to AI, bank customers will be conditioned to dealing with semi-automated systems that make stupid mistakes, force you to repeat yourself, ask you questions they should already know the answers to, and so on. In other words, AI will groom bank customers to be phishing victims.

This is a mistake the finance sector keeps making. 15 years ago, Ben Laurie excoriated the UK banks for their "Verified By Visa" system, which validated credit card transactions by taking users to a third party site and requiring them to re-enter parts of their password there:

https://web.archive.org/web/20090331094020/http://www.links.org/?p=591

This is exactly how a phishing attack works. As Laurie pointed out, this was the banks training their customers to be phished.

I came close to getting phished again today, as it happens. I got back from Berlin on Friday and my suitcase was damaged in transit. I've been dealing with the airline, which means I've really been dealing with their third-party, outsource luggage-damage service. They have a terrible website, their emails are incoherent, and they officiously demand the same information over and over again.

This morning, I got a scam email asking me for more information to complete my damaged luggage claim. It was a terrible email, from a noreply@ email address, and it was vague, officious, and dishearteningly bureaucratic. For just a moment, my finger hovered over the phishing link, and then I looked a little closer.

On any other day, it wouldn't have had a chance. Today – right after I had my luggage wrecked, while I'm still jetlagged, and after days of dealing with my airline's terrible outsource partner – it almost worked.

So much fraud is a Swiss-cheese attack, and while companies can't close all the holes, they can stop creating new ones.

Meanwhile, I'll continue to post about it whenever I get scammed. I find the inner workings of scams to be fascinating, and it's also important to remind people that everyone is vulnerable sometimes, and scammers are willing to try endless variations until an attack lands at just the right place, at just the right time, in just the right way. If you think you can't get scammed, that makes you especially vulnerable:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en