#Treasury for Young Readers

[aeontriad]

Treasury for Young Readers (1961)

[mudwerks]

(via Dreams of Space - Books and Ephemera: New Treasury for Young Readers (1963))

[tonycries]

Madam Zenin - T.F.

Synopsis. There’s nothing that rouses Toji, the infamous head of the Zenin clan, nothing that will make him lose control - until they take what’s most important to him. You.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, arranged marriage, clan leader! Toji, kídnapping, the elders súck, Toji goes INSANE, BRÉEDING, talks of an heir, oraI (fem), fíngering, Toji’s powers, FÉRAL Toji, créampie, spítting, overstím, AU if Toji didn’t leave the clan, slight misogyny from Naoya, slight bIood, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 6.2k

A/N. Didn’t realize how much clan leader!Toji made me quake so…Hope y’all have a good day <3

“Who took her?”

“M-master?”

There wasn’t a single individual in the Zenin Estate that didn’t think Toji Zenin wouldn’t kill them in the blink of an eye. Happily, at that. 

It was rumored he was cursed, ruthless. And out of everyone - elders, servants, children - not one didn’t look over their shoulder behind every corner of the sprawling Zenin house, flinching at his mere shadow. Broad, towering, wrenching out nothing but hushed apologies and deep bows - they never dared to look into his devastating eyes. 

And right now, that pale-faced attendant of yours could only tremble - pray - she won’t be next on Toji’s long, long list of victims when the looming man himself bends to meet her lowered gaze. And oh-

Fuck. 

No one ever saw the vicious head of the Zenin clan smile - no one. 

Except you.

And here he had the most dangerous grin gracing his features, darkened olive eyes wide - crazed, when they halt on that slightest drop of red sinking into the tatami mats.

“My wife.” The other woman jumps when he loudly kicks your chamber door open. Abruptly barking out a deep, humorless laugh at the disheveled emptiness inside, “Who took my wife?”

---

Young master Zenin - Toji Zenin. Your husband.

It’s only been a few months since your stiff, lavish wedding ceremony to him - part of an arranged deal made between his clan and your own. Your parents practically leapt at the chance to marry into such an esteemed jujutsu name, forgetting all those dark rumors swirling around the young head at the first golden glint of the Zenin family’s massive treasury.  

Sure, they promised to treat you well, to prime you into becoming the new madam of their distinguished household. But you knew better - it wasn’t your upbringing or your cursed technique that brought you here, they couldn’t care less - no, it was because of an heir. 

The one thing that the Zenin family didn’t have. 

And the one thing Toji Zenin refused to give them.

That much was obvious when just minutes after exchanging vows and the ceremonial sake, a group of todgering elders had thrust a heady antidote for conception into your hands, smiling smugly as if they’d just given you the wedding gift of the century. Of course, your all-new husband didn’t even look at you properly on your wedding night - opting instead for a short, husky goodnight and to sleep in a separate bedroom down the hall from the newly-weds’ chamber. 

He wasn’t a cruel husband, you think, and he was attractive - painfully so - and felt more like a gruff acquaintance than anything. But the only problem was that he didn’t embrace you, not even a fleeting kiss.

Even when you really wanted Toji to.

“-T-Toji?” you’re breathing shallowly, eyes blinking up hazily at the dim lighting. It comes out small, cracking so pathetically at the end.

“---Toji--even----”

“No use--- had--months---”

“---keep her to myself--”

Instantly, you’re sitting upright in a cold, wooden chair. Heart thumping wildly against the ribs of your body, it bangs at the thickly digging rope wrapping around your body.

Shit shit shit - where were you? The last thing you remembered was chatting with your attendant in your room, and she’d handed you a brand-new perfume to smell- Fuck. Where was-

“Ah, you’re awake.” There’s a high, sing-song voice from somewhere on your right, and your blood runs chillingly cold when you recognize that voice. “Honestly, I hoped you wouldn’t be around for this part but-” Naoya Zenin claps his hands to get the attention of every other elder hunched around the traditional Japanese room. “-that just makes it all the more fun, right?”

With the one tiny lantern being lit overhead, you could make out those scraggly smiles, the sharp glint of the Zenin Clan’s famed katanas. A tear stumbles down your trembling cheek, tasting salty on your lips.

“Aww, not the tears.” Naoya guffaws, “You know m’not good with the tears.” Those ropes pinning your hands behind your back rub raw with your frantic movement, creaking and unstirring despite your best efforts. “Try and try all you want, sweetcheeks, but a failure of the Zenin clan will only be met with the appropriate consequences.”

A failure.

The words would’ve cut deep had they not been the very same ones spat at you at every clan meeting - the exact reason you didn’t accompany Toji to the one today. Toji, you think. Fuck, how you wished you’d have gone just this one time. 

Straightening your spine the best you could in this binding chair, you ask - firm, pretending for all the world to be as confident as you’re not. “What do you want from me?”

It’s as if your question is the biggest joke that every scowling man in this room had heard, and they all burst into wheezing, riotous laughter. Some even slapping their knees - even Naoya gives you a cold, leeringly gleeful grin, “Just as mouthy as he is, huh?” He turns back to the elders, “She’s asking what we want!”

You bristle at another bout of cackles, struggling to hiss out a strangled, “Well- well if you bastards just fucking told me-”

“An heir.” 

Fuck, you had a feeling it was this.

“What? You pussies get your rocks off by wondering about mine and Toji’s sex life?” you let out shrill laughter, mouth moving before your brain because fuck, if it was all going to end now, might as well spew out everything you’ve wanted to since you walked in here. You shake your woozy head, “Oh fuckin’ grow up, if the man himself wanted an heir then you’d know-”

Eyes enraged, he takes a heated step towards you, “You little-”

“Naoya.” The strained drawl of an elder you’d seen around the corridors stops him straight in his tracks, and Naoya gives the man a hasty, reluctant bow. “Finish it. Before he gets back.”

Those last few words splatter a few drops of panic into your words, and a few more exhausted tears stream down your face. 

“Heh, whatever.” he’s taking one last greedy lookover down your rattling figure. “Would’ve taken y’for myself if I didn’t think he’d kill me, sweetcheeks. What a shame.” Trailing off airily, he turns back towards where you spot another spiking glisten in the dark, a metallic twang! rings through the thick, musty atmosphere. “Who knows, maybe his next wife will actually listen to a thing or two.”

Next wife. 

You’re not sure why but the thought made your heart clench. And you’re gasping when he turns back around - silver katana in hand - trying to scream, yell, anything for help. But no sound comes out. 

Instead, all you can do is gape when Naoya crowds in menacingly closer, you can just hear the smile in his voice when he coos mockingly, “You’re much better when you shut up, doll.” You press your lips tightly together at the same, sullied use of Toji’s nickname for you - wondering how he would react to all of this. Wincing at the cutting whoosh! of the katana being raised up, up, up- “Any last wo-”

BANG!

You’re grimacing at the loud crashing of wood and panels, sliding doors ripped to shreds. And in the hazy cloud of dust you could make out the outline of a tall, heaving figure. Big arms swaying with his choppy breaths, he’s standing still - dangerous.

And even in the soft darkness, your unblinking gaze caught on his gleaming, feral smile, sharp canines bared like some beast. Eyes carnivorous, widened as he assesses the room like a predator lurking in on its prey.

The drop of fear hits you before the realization - Toji.

Letting out a strangled yelp, “T-Toj- mmpf!” Before cold, wrinkly fingers come up from behind to cover your mouth. But even the slightest sound of your voice has Toji’s form jolting - fingers twitching on the handle of his blade, like electricity zapped through his entire body, and you can hear the elder behind you take in an obvious gasp when his eyes lock onto the two of you. 

Finally. 

Toji’s lips part silently, and abruptly, you’re being let go of as if you burned. “You.” 

It happens so fast that you’re not even sure you imagined it, in a split-second, the long, jagged dagger in Toji’s hand is being flung right at his shivering target. . 

And you knew he won’t miss - he never will, because you’re not even blinking when a drawn-out groan of pain echoes from behind you. Followed by an echoing thud!

“My wife.” Toji’s rasping baritone sends goosebumps racing down your spine, you’re puffing in a quick inhale at just how close he sounds. Sure enough, when you look up, you’re met with softened sage eyes, and crooked beginnings of a smile. “My wife.” he breathes out, as if he still couldn’t really believe it. But any and all tenderness in his body bleeds away when Toji abruptly looks over his shoulder at the men crowding around the entrance with a thunderous glare, “Next.”

Naoya is the first to dare to speak - to even move. Yelling, “Y-y- do you even know who that- the crime it is to kill one of the elders-”

Fuck, you swear Toji looked elated at that, that savage grin still plastered on his face, he grits through clenched teeth, “Next.” 

Next. Next. Next. Next. 

It’s all that kept being laughed - laughed - out when Naoya activated his own cursed technique, absolutely nothing against Toji’s rampant ravaging. The thrum of jujutsu makes your head throb, and Toji’s steps sound deafening. Pressurized lunges towards the man himself, and before he can think - before he can even breathe - Naoya’s being pinned face-down on the tatami floor. Face stinging with the force of the stronger man’s foot on his head, pressing it underneath his wooden sandals. He speaks softly - as if talking down to a child - over the strained pop! pop! pop! of joints. “For taking my wife, for insulting the very soul of my soul.”

Toji wasn’t done, he wasn’t even stopping. He was out of control. Ready to kill. To break. 

And none of the elders could do anything - in fact, they fall fatally still onto their knees at Toji’s growing smile, the slow turn of his head. All knowing they were on the very brink of death himself. “Who’s next?”

Fatigue and relief hits you like a semi-truck - five of them, in fact. And you can feel your body drooping lower, vision tinging with black at the corners. Over the grotesque crunching of limbs, you think you could hear a faint, gruff laughter of, “Yeah, ya might wanna sleep this one out, doll.”

---

Toji never wanted to let you out of his sight. Never. 

And with you so vulnerable like this - dozing off gently on his silken bedsheets, body curling subconsciously into his benevolent hold - he thinks he never will.

Mellow, rounded tips of his thick fingers glide down your skin, sensitive from the hot water and the way he’d washed away every evidence of the blood and pain from just a few hours before. 

“I’m sorry.” Toji breathes, hushed, a thumb gliding away a stray droplet of water on the apple of your cheek. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” He connects his forehead with your damp one, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m sorry. If I hadn’t come to see you early from the meeting- just knew something felt wrong.”

“Sorry for what, Toji?”

Your teasing tone of voice shocks him to his very core, and yet he can’t find it in himself to pull away - fuck, he can’t even dare open his eyes to look. “All of it.” he’s spitting out, tormentingly.

It takes you a while to find the words, “It’s- it’s not your fault.” you nod, a wet hand coming up to comb through Toji’s soft black tresses. “It’s neither of ours.”

There’s a few seconds of silence, in which he’s scrubbing non-existent beads of water off of you. Long strokes - slow, and purposeful - and you have to hold back your sudden yelp when it hits you that this was the first time that he saw you naked.

“But-” he falters, shaking his head - before thinking better of it. And you take the moment to appreciate just how gorgeous he is up close, every spike of pink in his worried lips, dark lashes kissing his high cheekbones. “But it’s over now, you can- you can go back to your clan.” he grimaces, still looking like he wanted to rip something - someone - apart. “The Zenin family is done.”

Done. 

“Toji.” you exhale, luring in your face so close to your husband’s. Too close. “Come with me. Fuck this Estate, fuck having an heir- and fuck the elders, if they’re not dead by now anyway.” They were - every single one - bodies piled high in the same room you were carried tenderly out of, you find out later. You steady onto your elbows on that unfamiliar mattress - Toji’s, you distinctly realize. And his brows crinkle upwards into an expression you’ve never seen on him before.

“I…”

“And-” A hand of yours wraps around his throat, nails digging into the racing pulse of his at the side of his milky neck. “-kiss me.”

Then he’s raising his eyes to look at you and fuck-

You were fucked. 

You might as well have just signed away your own will because here was the man that was covered in blood not too long ago, here he was with his lids hooded, pupils blown. “My wife.” he repeats that same mantra from before, lips parting like something so dark, visceral, was poked dangerously awake. Like he couldn’t quite believe it. His eyes flicker in a lingering triangle across both of your eyes, your lips. Just a hair’s breadth away. Straining out a raspy, “Oh fuck.”

Depraved - Toji’s lips are so depraved . And he’s drinking you in like all his bloodthirst from before had liquidated into pure need. 

You’re mewling when a large palm brushes over to cup your cheek, tilting that pretty head of yours to deepen the kiss. “Toji.”

You shouldn’t have done that - oh, you shouldn’t have done that. Because the sound of his own name in your syrupy sweet tone makes him jolt. Jolt. His entire body rumbles with a deep, wrenched-out growl, followed very closely by a loud slam! of Toji’s fist banging down on the nearby bedside table. Only later will you find that perfectly indented hole in the shape of his hand, splinters scattered across the floor. 

Like wanted to keep in control - needed to keep in control. But was failing - miserably. 

“F-fuuuuck-” he draws out huskily into your mouth, that tiny scar always at the corner of his mouth catching on your lower lip when he takes it between his. Sucking on that slick-glossed seam harshly, it almost hurt - but it hurt so good. “You have no idea- absolutely no fuckin’ idea how much I’ve wanted to do this.”

And suddenly you’re so painfully aware of the way your robe hadn’t been tied up properly, feeling the cinch of your sensitive nipples against his rich yukata, the warmth of all five of his long fingers splaying out just below the curve of your tits. 

You can feel his needy hips rutting into yours - such raw strength in the way he holds your own still so easily. Pushing right into the bullseye between your legs with the outline of his massive, heated bulge. Languid, delicious drags.

“Fuck we shouldn’t-” he cries out when you’re reeling him back in with his plump lip tucked beneath your teeth. “You need to-” Before he’s being tugged back in again. And again. And again and again like one taste of your candied lips and he was addicted. Barely able to choke out a single syllable before mashing them back onto yours. Gruffing out a deep rumble from the depths of his sculpted chest, “Shit- y’know why I didn’t do this sooner? Why I didn’t just fuck you right then and there in front of hngh- everyone whenever I wanted to? Because I knew-”

He cuts himself off with a convulsing shudder, pulling away just enough that you whine disappointedly. “I was gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

“Couldn’t- hngh-” you’re mewling at the delicate little strings of syrupy spit snapping. Spying down at the way his yukata was disheveled now, displaying such delicious panes of warm skin for you. “Couldn’t have guessed.”

Toji’s brows raise at your slightly bratty tone, lips curling into such a sinful smirk that it makes your cunt throb so hotly, despite the slowly cooling water. His eyes darken - as if something snapped. “Oh- you’re gonna fucking regret that, ma.”

And something did -  maybe his whatever restraint he had left, probably you by the end of this.

In an instant, you’re seeing a flash of that man- that monster from before. Baring you the most vicious grin inhumanly possible, if you didn’t know any better you’d have wondered how high the death count would be. The hundreds? The thousands?

He’s worshiping down your body like an apology for all that transpired before, hot, wet brandings of his mouth across each and every inch of skin he could reach. It made you whimper, it made you feel the powerful hum of his strength at his fingertips, it made you need more more more-

All you can let out is a drawling moan when he unapologetically snaps! the hem of your panties onto your heated skin, “Don’t be such a t-tease.”

Oh, you were so weak against the dark head of the Zenin clan, against the way he circles his two hands around your ankles. Easily pulling - hauling you across the plush mattress like some ragdoll. 

Not even hesitating before ripping your poor yukata off your body, until you’re left spread so shamefully underneath him, Toji knocking down hard onto his knees before you. 

“Well- whatever my wife wants…” the same dangerous grin grows along his face, glinting white teeth bared where they held your flimsy excuse of panties between honed canines. He murmurs the final few words hovering over where you needed him the most,  “...no elder or god themself could stop me from giving you.” 

RIP—! 

It’s the last thing breathed out of his heaving lungs before your poor underwear is being torn off of you by his very mouth, not wasting a moment before spitting them out, and burying his face between your trembly thighs. Not even taking in one last gulp of air, not even thinking because all Toji Zenin knew was that he was going to fucking die if he didn’t taste your sweet sweet cunt right now. 

“Oh f-fuck-” he’s musing, sharp tongue stuttering for once in his life. “Fuck fuck fuck- fuck-” You’re yelping when your jelly-like legs are pliantly thrown over Toji’s broad shoulders, digging into the muscles of his deltoids. “Can’t believe you’ve been-” He trails off so deliriously, planting a hot, thick glob of spit on your spread pussy lips once. Twice. Smearing that glistening coat along your puffy folds with the fat of his thumb, “-been holdin’ out on me like this.”

“Shit- s’too much.” you’re whining at the slippery gloss of the mess he’s made down below leaking down your slit. Threading your fingers through his silky locks, “I wasn’t holding out on anything, y’know-”

His wide-eyed gaze was locked on your sloppily winking hole, circling the rim of that needy ring of muscle with his pointed index. “God…” his hot breath fans your dripping cunt, “You might just be my god. Didn’t wanna bring a kid into this family but you’re so- so sweet m’thinking it might not be too bad.”

Those words are barely even registered in your mind before his pretty pink lips wrap themselves around your throbbing clit. Handsome cheekbones hollowing, droopy eyes rolling to the back of his head when Toji sucks. Whirling his tongue erratically around the sensitive nub, such lewd little squelches ring in your ears. 

“T-Toji—” your purring moans only make him bury his face even deeper, nose pressing up against the edge of your sopping slit. And each thorough drag of your slobbering cunt down his face makes you knock against the end of his chin, so thirsty with the way he was making out with your cunt. Like he couldn’t get enough - never will. “Y-you were the one-” the heels of your feet move up higher to loop at his neck. “-holding out.”

And you knew that Toji the strongest of his clan - you knew it took more than a mere, barely-lucid tug to have him clashing even deeper into your pussy. 

But he does for you anyway. 

“Fuck- fuck you little-” Toji’s own heavy tongue betrays him with a throaty moan, and he looks so furious. Seething at the way he was pussydrunk already. Greedy gaze so crazed that you’re back to wondering how high the kill count would be- would they all even fit on the Zenin Estate? “-f tha’s what you fuckin’ want.”

“Wha- oh!” you yelp at the sheer burning stretch of your legs being pushed up, up, up until your knees were knocking against your tits. And Toji takes the shamefully spread opportunity to bully one rummaging finger past your swollen folds. “Oh fuck- you’re reaching so- so-”

“Finish it.”

It takes you a second to realize that Toji’s addressing you, his tone so jagged. Words muffled when he pants them out into your weeping cunt. 

He’s pulling out his finger - intentionally curving exactly against all those sweet spots mushed into your velvety walls - only to brand your poor clit with a sharp smack! “Finish that fucking sentence, ma.”

“-deep!” your hips are bucking up at another hefty intrusion, Toji’s fingers relentless inside your elastic wall. Molding out your insides to memorize every bump of his knuckles, every neat curve of his short fingernails. “So so- deep, Toji.” you whine, your shaky hands coming to rest at where you could feel him pumping in and out feverishly into hidden nooks and crannies of your sopping cunt. “C-can feel you right- here!”

This earns you another smack! gifted once again on your awaiting clit, but any and all irritation is swept away when he’s clashing his lips with yours down below in such a messy kiss. Meshing around the bulge of his own large fingers, tongue rolling placatingly over your glisteningly ravaged clit. Flicking, “Yeah- definitely my kind of fucking goddess.” His own free hand dances up to rest about midway up your stomach, pressing down. “M’gonna be in even deeper soon, y’know. Trust me.”

It’s at this moment that Toji’s exploratory fingers find their greedy way to your bulbous g-spot, immediately crashing into it - hard. 

There. There there there, you want to say - but you don’t have to, because he could tell. Could feel the vice-like grip of your slicked walls, the way it’s almost difficult to hammer back into your cunt. 

“Yeah yeah I got it-” he’s humming cockily, back to dragging his lips all over your clit senselessly all over. “All you hafta to do is- hah-” He’s being cut off by his own ravenous thirst, slurping mouth grinding even faster into your pretty pussy. And all you can hear are those syrupy squelches and the smacking of Toji’s mouth, your whining ah! ah! ah! following with every push of his fingers forming around your gummy walls. Curling deftly to massage all your sweetest spots he’s already mapped out so scarily well. “-ahh fuck- can’t get enough. Would kill them all over again just for a single taste of this. Would kill everyone- burn down this entire fuckin’ city.”

You didn’t doubt it, and Toji didn’t let you - not for a single second. 

Because he was almost violent in his approach, bruisingly pushing apart your legs further and further with each sloppy, stumbling second. Looking up at you with his wild gaze, with such a feral grin you could feel along every crevice of your overwhelmed cunt. 

“Can tell ya liked that-” he’s huffing out a surprised bout of laughter, “Ohhh- ya like that very much, huh?”

His tongue was alternating between ravaging your clit and brushing against the teasing edge of your entrance now. Over and over. And you’re gifted with another imprinting smack! onto your quivering cunt - and another and another and another until you’re all but sobbing out such a broken, “Toji- m’so close, fuck- m’gonna cum, m’gonna cum–”

“Then cum f’me, my wife.”

It only takes a few more messy rams of Toji’s fingers knuckle-deep into your eagerly swallowing pussy until you’re crashing so aggressively into your high. Wave after wave of white-hot pleasure running down, down, down your spine and into where he was relentlessly stuffing your convulsing pussy. 

Fucking you over and over through your orgasm, the pretty sight of you so splayed out and ruined makes Toji’s mouth water. He feels like a damn dog with the way his tongue lolls out, grin widening, he murmurs absent-mindedly, “Yeah- wouldn’t be bad at all. Swear you’re gonna be the end of my sanity.”

Fuck, you shamelessly ogle the way his dark robe falls down his broad shoulders, revealing so many dips and curves of muscle after muscle. He was so large - so meticulously sculpted that your restless legs fasten around Toji’s slenderly toned waist, drawing him close until your bare chests were rubbing up against one another. “Heh- you don’t get to hold out on me anymore, doll.”

It sounded almost like a threat - but your bleary, orgasm-drunk mind only has the chance to wonder what exactly he would do if you did. If you didn’t give him - the one head of the Zenin clan that didn’t get everything he wanted handed to him on a silver platter since birth - the one thing he would kill for. Die for. 

You. 

So you’re smiling drunkenly, head tilted to one side, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Toji doesn’t answer - doesn’t even bother to. And the only response you’re getting is a strained laugh - delirious almost, like the mere thought of that was enough to shred away whatever was left of his sanity.

And yours - clearly - because in that very moment, Toji lets his throbbing cock finally spring out, smacking against his abs to leave a glisteningly wet smear of precum. So so angry, his fat weeping tip lets out another wave of syrupy precum at the chill of the heady air. 

Shit - he was big. 

Long, long shaft blending so prettily from a feverish red at his tip to the tan skin behind those tufts of black at his happy trail. Veins pulsing, girthy enough that you’re wondering back to his kill count, thighs twitching nervously to a close. 

“No- no no-” you could tell his tone was trying to veer into scolding, but you caught the way it cracks with so much raw need. “Don’t you fuckin’-” His hands just wrench your knees back open, green eyes just aflame at this point. “-dare.” 

His pointed smile was so dripping wet with your sweet sweet juices from before, trickling in a sloppy trail all the way from the glossy corners of his lips, down to his chin. And his eyes follow the splattering, thick puddle on your collarbone. 

“Oh-” Toji’s mouth falls into a wicked gasp, immediately, he’s surging forward to pool the syrupy mess on his hot tongue. “Heh- guess we really are just now consummating our marriage, huh?”

The movement causes his painfully rock-hard cock to just kiss at your puffy pussy lips, just mashing the fat round tip of his length between your slit. Teasing. So fucking filthy. 

“Toji-” you’re wrenching him by his dark hair to pant into his open mouth, like a mantra. “More- need more- fuck I need-”

“More?”  His shuddering rap is barely even audible, ringing straight to your very heated core, because he sounded so wrecked. So fucking utterly ruined. Voice a few octaves higher in disbelief, “My pretty girl wants my cock? Fuckin’ want-” And then it’s like all the air is being knocked out of your lungs - literally. Feeling as if you’re being split apart so sinfully so, “more?”

You couldn’t have answered if you’d wanted to - because Toji Zenin was fucking ruthless. Just as mean as those greedily lingering juts of his hips, pushing and pushing his massively rotund length past your first snug channel of muscle. 

But that didn’t matter, because your slutty cunt was speaking more than enough for the both of you - or at least that’s what Toji mutters, over and over when he pushes in jutting, unrhythmic jabs to squeeze himself deeper inside you. 

“Oh- oh my god–” you’re batting your heavy eyelids open to take in the way your overstuffed pussy just bulges around him. Lips spread so widely it was like they were conforming to each ridge and vein down Toji’s fat cock, beading a glossy sheen down every inch by fucking inch you were being fed. “So much- fuck, don’t know if I can take it.”

Toji Zenin would rather die than not have his pretty wife all overfilled with cock if that’s what it takes him. 

And by the way your teary eyes grow wider, he suspects his pussydrunk mind might’ve just babbled that out loud. “Heh…didn’t I tell ya, ma?” His low whisper puffs hotly against your ear, tugging tensely on your earlobe. “M’gonna fucking ruin ya.”

And it’s times like this that it’s so clearly impossible to forget that Toji is inhumanly human - that you are so unfairly nothing in a match up against him.

CRACK!

Because with one, harsh ram of his sharp hip bones smacking against the globes of your ass - every solid inch of his intimidating cock is slammed against your tightly cushioning walls. It’s such a ravaging intrusion and you swear you could feel him everywhere. Feel him thrumming hotly against sweet spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. Finally, buried all the way to his thick hilt, yet still nuzzling his hips upwards for more-

“S’broken.” Toji muses, and for a second you didn’t know if he was talking about you or the suspiciously sagging bed. “Plan B.” 

It takes only two seconds for his beefy arms to pick you up as if you were weightless - god, he was treating you like some object. And the only time he’s not enveloped by your heavenly cunt is when you’re being shoved down like some slut onto the cool mahogany of Toji’s work desk, his firm front pressing up against your arched back.  

“Plan C is to just fuck you into the floor until it breaks.” he snorts throatily into your ear. 

And you wondered whether it was a joke - you hoped it was a joke. You almost half-believed it until he was back to bulldozing his plump tip back into your briefly-neglected cunt. Stretching the clingy rim of muscle to bend to his round length, fully. Oh, he’ll never get used to this sight. 

Yeah, you definitely weren’t making it out alive. 

“F-fuck you really are-” One hand of yours scrambles to blindly white-knuckle the smooth wood beneath you when Toji’s bludgeoning your pussy with powerful, long thrusts. Feeling every minute flex of his thick thighs behind your own, shuddering with each forceful hammer of his sweeping cock inside you. “-you really are in so deep.”

As if to confirm, the man himself glides down an open palm to your stomach. Pressing down hard with all five splayed-out fingers until Toji could feel the same incessant slam of his thumping cockhead, the cascading ripple of his heavy, cum-filled balls smacking against your ass. 

“Told ya- hah told ya so.” his cocky groans are whirling all throughout your mind, such a hot, melty mess with the sheer fucking stretch of Toji’s cock. “Y’know…I can’t help but imagine just how pretty you’d hngh- look all stretched out n’ swollen as a momma.”

You’re nodding deliriously, and the way his crashing thrusts were just bruising against your spongy cervix, bouncing off onto every sweetly hidden sensitive spot inside your elastic walls. “Shit- ya jus’ got wetter- ya like that? The thought of me fuckin a baby into ya?” he spits, long sloppy tongue coming up to taste the dredges of tears streaming down your face- shit, when did you even start crying? 

“Shh shhh- don’t cry–” he’s cooing, rewarding you with another heavy smack! right onto your poor clit. Every steady clash against your over-sensitive g-spot only sends a fresh wave of big fat tears for Toji to kiss at. “-don’t cry, don’t cry. Never f’me, m’never hah- gonna kill off anything that makes my pretty wife cry-” A soft, salty peck on your lips, “-n’ that includes me. If ya asked me to, ma. I’ll give ya anything you ever want.”

There’s a creaking slam! on the wooden surface, and a hasty look over your shoulder shows that Toji has hiked his knee up onto the desk. For a second, you wonder whether it hurt - whether the throbbing shaft of his cock wasn’t rubbed raw by now, whether his abs weren’t just burning with movement. Fucking you so recklessly into the desk.

But oh, you think Toji Zenin would care?

You think he would give a fuck about anything other than rutting riotously into your gripping cunt? Drilling into you again and again until your tip-toes don’t even reach the ground at the force of his pressurized thrusts. The change in angle has his leaky tip glide glossy lines right across the bottom of your dripping pussy and pressing down harshly onto your g-spot. So rough. So mean. You’re scrambling further and further up the desk and-

“Now now-” Toji hoists your weak hips up ever-so-slightly back to him, before pinning you to the desk with his full, heavy bodyweight. “No running away. Heh…how funny would it be if I actually did jus’ hngh- fuck a baby into ya right now?” His fingers get so sloppy on your clit, “Fill ya up- rub an heir right in everyone’s faces?”

“Shit- m’so close- again-” Your ears are popping at the pure saturated stimulation when his hand down below rolls over your clit. Desperate. Depraved. Glossing up the curve of his thick thumb with all the sweet slick beading out with each broken thrust. It’s like he was out of control - losing his fucking mind. And your delirious mind wondered whether you’d be next, that faint cracking of joints certainly not boding well for either of you. “Toji, m’gonna-”

He’s so erratic - sloppy. And so it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same - fuck, you didn’t even realize it at first.

So hard that your vision flashes red and white, breathing raggedly gasping in lungfuls as you rock your sticky hips back into Toji’s so greedily. Your voice is shot - because you’re moaning Toji’s name so loud that it almost felt disrespectful, echoing across the sex-thickened air. “Tha’s right- scream as loud as you want, ma. It’s just us in this house.”

And maybe it was that - maybe it was the feeling of your velvety walls clamping down hard around his achy length - maybe it was just the way you’re whispering out such saccharine sweet, “Cum inside.”

Because Toji’s fractured sanity can only handle a few more unkindly bullying drives into your gushing cunt before he’s cumming and cumming so much he thinks he might die. 

Doesn’t know if he can - if he wants to - stop.

“Oh- ohhh fuck- didn’t think I’d actually-” You feel a branding bite inside the crook of your neck as his sloppy white seed splatters at your inner thigh with each rummaging thrust forward. Oozing down in messy, thick dredges. “-hngh- gonna fill you up so good- until you can’t take it anymore.” You didn’t know if you already could - because you felt so full. Toji’s syrupy cum sloshing around with each ram of his hips, coating your walls in a creamy, slick-like sheen on the inside. 

“Yes–” you sigh over another splintering crack! from somewhere, “Fuck fuck fuck- need you to- hngh, wanna make you a daddy- give you an heir, To-”

It’s as if he couldn’t bear to hear your swollen lips part with his name, because Toji’s shutting you up with a sweltering kiss. Still mounted and rutting into you so animalistically, “the best- the best momma, you’re gonna be the best momma-” he hushes into your mouth. Pliantly kneading your body into a sinful arch for him, you barely even register it when he’s carrying you away. Two thick fingers pooling his glistening cum, inching them back into your stretched-out cunt - “Don’t waste a single drop now- hngh- fuck, you’ll look so pretty all full.”

Before you know it, you’re being sprawled out so easily on the clean tatami mats below, face down, your hips being propped up by one of Toji’s. And in your bleary peripheral vision, you could just about make out how ruined that desk was - how broken. How the fuck haven’t either of you broken any bones, yet?

Or maybe you have - you wouldn’t even know at this point, because Toji was still slamming into your poor, overspilling pussy again. His harsh grunt puffs out in a feverish breath against your ear, “Told ya I was gonna ruin you, doll. Better get ready-” He’s punctuating each word with a sloppy, sold thrust, pace picking up to fuck you so thoroughly into the floor. “Because I have a Plan D and a Plan E until m’sure you’re givin’ me an heir.”

A/N. Ooo what if I made a clan leader series? Thoughts?

Plagiarism not authorized.

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Oh dear sweet god

Why do I do this to myself

This goof has such a chokehold on my heart I just CANNOT

Working on P is for Public of ABC's of Kink, but it's getting split into two. Part one is SFW, part 2 will be very much NSFW. Already working in it and planning to have it up tonight.

And awaaaaay we gooo—

I lied part 3 will be NSFW don't hurt me

Blacksmith's Daughter

Part 1 of 3

Part 2 here

Series: ABC's of Kink

Letter: P is for Public

Wordcount: 2.7k

Tags: SFW, NSFW (part 3 only), fluff, hurt/comfort other stuff maybe

LA!Shanks X AFAB!Reader

Dear gods I loved writing this one

To say you were in a pickle would have been a grievous understatement.

You and a close friend had been caught sneaking around a Marine base after getting the bright idea to break into their treasury vault. For a few years since your father's death you had been down on your luck, and it had seemed a quick ticket to dragging yourself out of the gutter. You had become over that time a particularly skilled thief, and the training you had recieved from your father in blades, not to mention the pair of cutlasses he had smithed for you, didn't hurt your chances.

And you had been forced to give yourself up after your friend was killed while resisting arrest.

Thrown onto a Marine ship bound for Impel Down, locked in the brig with your hands and feet bound in irons. No family, no friends, set to rot for at least the next few years in prison, if not for the rest of your life.

You were fairly certain your situation couldn't possibly get any worse.

The officer guarding the brig was leaning against the desk across from the stairs that led up to the main deck of the ship, polishing his rifle with a rag and gun oil and whistling to himself. He had an easy enough time of it—you were the only prisoner there, and you weren't bothering to give him a hard time. You had been aboard the damnable ship for three days, stiff and sore from your limited range of movement in the heavy shackles clamped around your wrists and ankles, the gravity of your situation weighing heavily on you, and there really wasn't any fight left in you.

Sudden shouting from the deck overhead made him pause and look up the stairs, his brow furrowing under the brim of his cap as you both listened.

"Open fire!"

"Pirates!"

"All hands! Man the guns!"

The officer glanced into your cell, shouldering his rifle as he tossed his rag on the desk and pointed at you.

"Not a peep, wench."

You just leaned back against the wall of the cell with a sigh. "Yup."

So your situation could get worse. Wonderful.

The ship rattled and shook, the cannon fire making your ears ring. Bits of the ceiling fell into the cell around you. You flinched when a hole was blown through the wall of the cell next to your own, the cannon ball rolling across the floor and clanging against the bars. Rather than rotting in prison, you were just flat out going to die.

A fitting end for a miserable few years.

And then all at once, you heard another voice call for ceasefire. The cannon fire stopped first, and slowly the sounds of fighting on the deck above your head fell into relative silence, peppered with animated chatter and laughter.

That could only mean one thing—the Marines had lost.

And your suspicions were confirmed when, a few minutes later, one of the senior cadets on board burst through the doors and sprinted down the stairs into the brig in an outright panic, whimpering, attempting to draw his pistol with shaking hands—but not before he was followed by a broad-shouldered man with a long black ponytail, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, holding a large rifle with one hand and leveling the barrel between the young Marine's eyes.

The pirates had won. You weren't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Oh, don't shoot the kid, Benn, just get him restrained."

You watched another pirate stroll down the stairs and lean into the wall at the edge of them, bright red hair framing his face, a long black cape hanging around one of his shoulders, and a pair of cutlasses slung over his shoulder—your cutlasses. He set them lightly on the desk and patted his crewmate on the shoulder a couple times as he passed.

There was only one man on the Grand Line that matched his description, and even having lived in a town too far inland to have had much experience with pirates, you had heard of him—Red-Haired Shanks, captain of the Red Hair Pirates, who held one of the highest bounties in the world.

"Be quicker to shoot him." Benn shrugged a shoulder. "Or just coldcock him over the head."

"Kid's probably already shit himself." Shanks grabbed a coil of rope from the wall and tossed it across to him. "No use adding injury to insult."

Benn rolled his eyes over toward his captain...and then his gaze flicked back a bit, landing on you as you glanced warily between him and Shanks. Benn gave a nod toward your cell, and your heart went from racing to ceasing entirely when Shanks turned his head and locked his gaze with your own.

He lifted his eyebrows a bit, his dark brown eyes glinting.

"Well, hello there." You swallowed as he approached the cell slowly. He wrapped his hand around one of the bars, leaning forward. Evidently your anxiousness was written all over your face, as he said next, reassuringly, "Don't worry love, we don't bite. Unless you make the idiot decision of opening fire on my ship," he added, raising his voice just a bit and tilting his head to look back at the Marine cadet, who was putting up absolutely no fight over having his hands tied behind his back now.

Shanks directed his gaze back over to you, flashing a charming grin. "So what're ya in for, sweetheart?"

You took a deep breath, and forced yourself to speak. "I—I, er—"

"She snuck into the base in Nanohana and attempted to break into the treasury vault," the cadet chimed in, and flinched as Benn shoved him down to sit against the wall.

He then grabbed the gun-oil rag from the desk and stuffed it in the cadet's mouth.

"Nobody asked you, kid," he said, leaning against the adjacent wall and crossing his arms, his rifle propped up against the wood paneling beside him.

Shank's grin only widened at that. "Did you really?" You nodded shortly, and he chuckled. "God, what a horrible crime," he went on, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Everyone knows the World Government is horrifically impoverished and doesn't have a single Berry to spare." He leaned a bit closer, resting his head against one of the iron bars. "How far did you get?"

"W...we had just gotten the vault open before we were surrounded," you said quietly. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his, as they widened and his eyebrows shot up toward his hairline, completely taken aback.

"Impressive," he said, his eyes passing over you slowly. He bit the corner of his lip thoughtfully, before his eyes returned to yours. "You said we. You have a crew?"

You shook your head. "It was just me and my friend. Well...more like my brother, really." Your eyes dropped to your knees for a moment. "He didn't make it," you said quietly, still not quite able to process it. Your best friend, your only friend, who you had known for twenty-three years, since you were a toddler.

Gone.

When you lifted your eyes back to the red-haired captain, his expression had softened considerably, mouth turned down in a small frown, his amusement replaced with genuine concern. "I'm terribly sorry to hear that, sweetheart," he said gently. He drew in a deep breath, and let it out as a slow sigh, before flipping his cape out of the way and taking a seat on the floor—and you noticed with a bit of shock as the cloak shifted that the left sleeve of his loose white shirt was empty.

He rest his elbow on his knee, leaning his chin into his palm, hand curled over his mouth for a long moment.

"Arabasta is around three days from here," he said finally. "Provided the wind cooperates, and honestly we could do with making port. We'd be more than happy to take you home."

You swallowed, your heart still pounding, still anxious, but for a different reason now. This man, who didn't even know your name, who was gazing at you with a gentle compassion spread across his handsome features that you were entirely unaccustomed to, offering to go out of his way just to get you home—this man had a bounty of over three billion berries?

After a moment, you shook your head. "Wouldn't be much use," you said, shrugging a shoulder. "I don't exactly have a home."

"Any family?" You shook your head—your father's death had been wholly unexpected, and led ultimately to the closing of his smithy, where the two of you and your "brother"—his apprentice—had also lived. Within less than a month you had been on the streets. "Friends?"

His face fell a little more every time you shook your head no. He ran the pad of his index finger over the top of his lips, glancing briefly at Benn.

Back at you, looking at you almost like you were a poor, abandoned puppy he wanted to take home.

He glanced at Benn again, longer this time, until his first mate sighed, straightening out from the wall. "I'll figure out who's got the keys," he said, already starting toward the door.

"Good man."

From the slam you heard, you were fairly sure he kicked the door open at the top, and his voice boomed over the loght chatter on the deck.

"Alright, you assholes. I'm gonna ask one of you who's got the keys to the brig. I don't get an answer in ten seconds, you're getting an extra hole in your head, and I move onto the next guy."

Your eyes widened a little as you looked toward the stairs, moving back over to Shanks as he laughed a little.

"Has a real knack for subtlety, doesn't he?" he said with a crooked grin. He leaned back, planting his hand on the floor behind him. "Seems you have two options, love. You can stay here, with a bunch of tied up Marines who want to take you—where, Impel Down?" You nodded, and he returned the nod. "Or..." He cooked his head slightly to one side, his grin widening a little. "We can break you out of here and you can come with us."

You blinked a few times. "And...go where?" you said slowly.

Her shrugged a shoulder. "Wherever the wind and the waves carry us."

He was asking you to join his crew. You felt your eyes widen a bit, and Shanks laughed softly when he saw his meaning had sunk in.

"I'd choose the latter option, personally," he said. "Never hurts to have another good thief on board."

"You...can't really say I'm a good thief, given..." You glanced down pointedly at the iron shackles around your ankles. "Well, circumstances."

"Ah..." He waved his hand dismissively. "Everyone makes mistakes early in their career. How long have you been thieving?"

"Two years," you said. "Since my father died. Mostly just...pick-pocketing and sneaking money pouches off vendors. This was the first actual break-in."

His eyes widened a bit. "Your first actual break-in," he said slowly, the corner of his mouth curving into a smirk, "was into a Marine base in a major city?"

You shrugged a shoulder, and nodded. He huffed out a sigh, shaking his head.

"Oh, I like you," he said in a low, flirtatious tone, his eyes making a slow pass over you that made your heart speed up and blood rush to your cheeks. "So tell me, princess...." He finally leaned forward again, resting his arm across his knee, and went on with a debonair grin. "Is there a pretty name to go with that pretty face?"

You managed to stammer out your name, your eyes wide as saucers. His smile softened as he shook his head a little, his gaze locked firmly onto yours as he spoke one word softly.

"Beautiful."

You jumped when the door opened, and both of you looked over as Benn descended the stairs, flicking a spent cigarette butt at the Marine cadet still seated in the corner. He tossed a ring of keys over to Shanks.

"Already informed everyone we have a new thief on the crew," he said flatly, tossing a ring of keys over to Shanks.

Shanks swiped them out of the air, grinning. "And how do you know that? I don't recall telling you."

Benn gave him a look equally as flat as his tone.

"Oh, lighten up, you grumpy old bastard," said Shanks jovially, pulling himself to his feet. Your eyes were glued to the keys as he flipped one out and tried it in the cell lock.

It didn't open.

"So what're we doing about this?" said Benn, gesturing broadly. "Caravel full of tied up Marines. Sink her? Just leave her adrift?"

Shanks shrugged. "Might as well just leave it. Take anything that isn't nailed to the floor."

There was a muffled sound of protest in the corner, and both men turned their gaze to the cadet.

Shanks tried the second key, with no success, as the cadet managed to turn his head and tug the cloth out of his mouth with traction from the shoulder of his coat. "Y—you can't just—there's no telling when another Marine ship will come by!"

Shanks snorted. "Or another pirate ship." He flipped to the next key, smirking. "So you'd rather I sink her?"

"W—well, no, but—but we—"

Benn had evidently heard enough. He rolled his eyes as he stooped down to pick up the cloth, and the cadet's jaw snapped shut immediately. Sighing in irritation, he grabbed the kid by his nose and held his nostrils shut until he was forced to open his mouth to take a gasp of air.

And Benn immediately shoved the cloth back into his mouth, and pointed a finger an inch from his nose. "Do it again and it'll be the last thing you ever do. Got it?"

The cadet nodded quickly, his eyes wide circles of terror.

The third key turned, and the lock clicked. You expelled a heavy sigh of relief at the sound. Shanks chuckled lightly as he watched you lean your head back against the damp wall behind you. "No need to worry, love," he said, kneeling down at your feet and flipping to the attached set of smaller keys for the cuffs and shackles. "I can pick a lock when I need to." He freed the first one, leveling his eyes with yours, and a small shiver coursed up your spine as he reached out and brushed a few strands of hair behind your ear, his thumb briefly caressing your flushed cheek. "I'm not letting a few iron bars and chains keep me from you."

"Oh dear god," Benn grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes, and you almost giggled a little, biting your lip. The guy wasn't wrong, Shanks was laying it on pretty thick.

Though you weren't really complaining.

Shanks glanced back at him as he set to unlocking the second shackle, feigning surprise. "Oh, are you still here?" he said with a sarcastic smirk. He turned his attention back to the irons. "I fear I forgot there was anyone else in the room for a moment."

He glanced up and gave you a little wink before tossing the shackles away, and touched your shoulder lightly to indicate for you to lean forward so he could get to the cuffs wrapped around your wrists.

Benn leveled his eyes with yours, glancing at his captain, and gave a small snort of laughter. "Good luck."

And with that, he headed back up the stairs.

"Oh, don't listen to him, sweetheart."

Shanks chuckled, leaning over you to quickly unlock the shackles, so close you could feel the heat of his body, smell the leathery scent of his cologne mingling with a subtler hint of spiced rum. Your heart raced as he stood back up, dropped the cuffs, and held out his hand, smiling.

You hesitated for the briefest of moments, before placing your hand in his. He pulled you to your feet...and then flush against his chest, grinning as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

"I promise I'm perfectly harmless."

[whimsicalwritingsandmore]

Aurorise | ateez x reader

Pairing: prince!ateez x dancer!reader

Genre: royalty, historical fiction, poly, adventure

Word Count: 2278 words

Summary: The story of how you, a dancer, upheaved an entire monarchy all by falling in love with eight princes.

a/n: and so it begins... :)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 2

Royal betrothals took place on the night of the Spring Equinox. Five years ago, when your cousin became engaged to Prince Chan, you left the village to pursue the dance group with your close-knit group of friends — Hoshi, Woozi, Hoseok, Moonbyul and Sakura.

As soon as daybreak arrived, the village was already stirring with frenzied movement and bustling commotion. The villagers excitedly and animatedly rushed about, chattering amongst themselves of who might become the Princes’ royal consort. And when the sun began to descend upon the horizon and night crept in, everyone hurriedly gathered in their designated spots in the palace courtyard, awaiting the verdict.

In your Kingdom, not only nobles participated in this event, but also families whose parents either worked in the royal army or the royal court. Your father was the Head of the Royal Guard alongside his brother who was his Second in Command. They bravely and fearlessly defended the Kingdom from opposing forces. However, after a failed and near disastrous peace treaty alliance, he left the position and opened a practice academy to help young men who were interested in joining the royal army when they came of age to prepare themselves. 

Your father’s dedication to the royal army even after resigning his post pleased the King and so, the royal treasury funded your father’s academy. This led to your family remaining in good graces with the royal family even if your Father and the King were no longer close as before, but it did fracture your relationships with the villagers, who were profusely calling and beseeching for financial aid to no avail.

As a result, if there was one thing the villagers delighted in more than anything, was the possibility of seeing your family embarrassed and humiliated by the royal family. All eyes were on you since your older sister had married the son of one of your father’s colleagues, and there were no princesses in the royal family for your brother to court.

The betrothal was to determine the future partners of Prince Chan and Prince Seonghwa and you were of age to participate but, in contrast your cousin, ho everyone knew had prepared her whole life for this moment and was the epitome in your family as the perfect candidate, you were a wildcard - a free-spirit who revelled in the spontaneity of life and never took a lesson on royal etiquette. 

The odds of you being selected was very low, and the idea of being rejected with all eyes watching felt like a sweet revenge for the villagers.

But you didn’t attend the betrothal. After a heated argument with your father about being a hopeless case and nothing like your cousin, you left that night with your friends. 

You never knew what happened.

-

And during a time like this, after your past history of foregoing the betrothals, being an overthinker did not help your situation. Gazing outside from your window, you were lost deep in thought, your mind preoccupied and racing back and forth. 

After registering Prince’s San actions, with a flustered expression - your mind boggled by his radiant smile and your racing heart, you arose from your spot, bowed to the King signalling your respect and then scampered out of the courtyard. Racing hurriedly through the village’s path, you dashed straight into your family’s home and into your room, locking the door. 

The news had rapidly spread like a wildfire and reached the ears of your father who was not pleased.

“You have to marry him Y/N.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Father, Prince San likes to play games. I’m not going to marry him.”

Your Father frustratingly massages his temples as he responds, “It’s just like before isn’t it? You’re going to only think about yourself and not about your family’s reputation.”

“Father,” you stress irritatedly, “The villagers already disliked us after the royal treasurer disclosed that the royal treasury will fund your school while their calls for help were ignored. They’ve been waiting for us to mess up one way or another. It doesn’t matter if I marry Prince San, they’ll find some way to twist it and make us look bad.”

“It does matter Y/N, let them know that the monarchy is on our side! That the King stands with us!”

“Are you not listening, Father? No one cares about a dysfunctional and corrupted monarchy, the only reason they don’t leave is because no Kingdom will give them an easy time for relocating in their jurisdiction.”

“Well maybe if you had attended the betrothal, we could’ve silenced them once and for all. But no, you only think about yourself. You’re not like your cousin.”

Tiredly you rub your forehead and place your face in your palms, trying to maintain your composure in front of your Father. Frustration and irritation are coiling inside you, ready to erupt like a volcano.

“Enough!” your Mother yells, “Y/N go to your room and try to relax and you, go make yourself useful for me and buy some groceries. Don’t come back until you get everything on that list!”

After the confrontation you stayed in your room, and for the last few hours, you continuously paced back and forth like a maniac, racking your brain to make sense of what occurred. The veil was still in your possession and sprawled across your bed, seemingly mocking you. You couldn’t even spare a glance, lest you started panicking again.

Any attempts at sleeping off the uneasiness failed as the moment you began to doze off, your brain decided to resurface the events and you jolted awake in anxiousness and worry. Now, you stared at the village intently, planning your next course of action. You concluded to not venture out of your room until it was time to leave with the group. If it was up to you, you all would have been on your way by tomorrow morning. 

Unfortunately, you all had decided to stay for at least a week - therefore, you wouldn’t be leaving your room until next Wednesday.

Hoshi arrived later in the evening to check in and update you on the recent gossip.

“Yeah you’re the talk of the town.” he expressed nonchalantly while munching on some warm buttered bread courtesy your Mother. 

“That makes me feel so much better Hoshi, thank you.” you responded sarcastically.

He narrowed his eyes at you before flinging the veil at you in retaliation. You caught it, and proceeded to batter him with it.

“Hey!” he cried, “You’ll make me drop my bread! Stooooop!”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” you asked out of breath, “Not your best friend being emotionally distressed right now!?”

After blocking your blows and stuffing the bread into his mouth, he captured you in a hug and began to pet your hair as an attempt to calm you down. You thrashed around a bit to continue your mayhem but gave up knowing that Hoshi is stronger than you.

“Relax,” he assured, continuing to stroke the middle of your head, “It’s only because all the girls are jealous that you’re the one who managed to single handedly and easily catch the eyes of the Prince. And their parents are even more envious, which is typical of them.”

“Yes but…”

“Remember when we first left to pursue the group? The Aunty who runs the fruit stall had so much to say about us! Now look, she was telling my mom the other day how she knew we were going to be successful and that she always had faith in us. A huge hypocrite! She’s lucky I’m afraid of my mother otherwise I’d tell her about her annoying kids and how rotten she is just like the fruit she tries to sell.”

Chuckling at Hoshi’s spiel, you remove yourself calmly from his embrace and turn to him.

“And your point is?”

“People will talk no matter what. They have nothing better to do and their opinion of you isn’t true. While I can understand their distress of being ignored by the King, for them to put the brunt of it on you is unfair and uncalled for. Just lay low until we leave.”

“Well that’s the plan but I wish it was that easy,” you dejectedly replied, “My father is disappointed again. I’m a huge disappointment to him again just like last time. He cares more about the monarchy than me.”

Hoshi squints his eyes and grabs you in another hug.

“Ack!”

“As much as I respect your Father,” he begins, “I don’t like the way he talks to you. But just know that you don’t have to be like your cousin, she’s on her own path and so are you. Hopefully your Father sees that one day and if not, we can ask our moms to rally up their groups and chase him and my Father throughout the village. I don’t know why they are so obsessed with the King.”

He frees you from his hold and holds your shoulders and smiles.

“It’s not like anything else will happen.”

“Y/N! Y/N!” your sister screams frantically, “The King is on his way here!”

You shoot up from your position, your eyes filling with fear as the anxiousness and nervousness returning and descending like a huge crashing wave. Sadly, Hoshi didn’t make you feel better.

“Hm, I stand corrected,” he commented.

Meanwhile, your Father puffs his chest proudly as he waits outside the gate. When the Royal Messenger appeared and announced the King’s arrival, your Father left all the groceries he was supposed to return with and rushed back. As the carriage pulls to a stop in front of him, he is already bowing as the King descends and saunters ahead while the villagers who are present whisper amongst themselves.

The King sits in a plush and cushioned satin chair that is your Father’s favourite and scrutinises the living room while your Father stoops in front of him.

“It’s been a while Y/L/N,” the King articulate curtly, “The last time we convened was at the betrothal.”

“It’s been long overdue to have you at my home, Your Majesty,” your Father responds, “It’s an absolute pleasure to have you grace us with your presence.”

 Hoshi judges your Father beside you while snacking on another slice of buttered bread. Behind the wall that separates the living room and the kitchen, a small group consisting of you, Hoshi, your older siblings and your mother are huddled together trying to eavesdrop on the conversation.

The King settles himself more comfortably into the chair before continuing, “Your daughter neither attending nor participating in the betrothal is very surprising. Adding on to the fact that she’s a part of the most famous dance group throughout the lands yet, they never performed here until today. Most of them are from this village too, no?”

Unsure and shyly your Father explains, “What can I say your Majesty? Y/N is a free-spirit, she doesn’t listen to me and likes to do her own thing. I wanted her to attend the betrothal but she chose to pursue dance instead. And I told her that they should have their first performance here! But kids think they know better than their elders.”

Your mother shakes her head in disapproval and you peer judgingly as you hear your Father’s remarks. 

“Liar.” you mutter.

“She’s not like her cousin.” 

You roll your eyes at your Father but you can’t ignore the pang of hurt that flashes through you. If there’s one thing currently whirring in your mind, albeit it might sound selfish, it was that you shouldn’t have returned home. You should’ve stayed where you were.

“Well,” the King begins, “I am here because my son has requested my permission to marry your daughter.”

“Excuse me!?” you exclaim

Your family gasps and the Royal Messenger sideyes the kitchen, but it goes unnoticed by the King. Your mind spins feverishly and adrenaline shoots through your body upon this revelation. In a hushed tone, Hoshi shushes you and places a hand over your mouth to stop you from blowing your cover.

While all of you are flabbergasted and in shock, your Father beams excitedly and deeply bows to the King.

“Yes your Majesty! Of course we accept your proposal for Y/N to Prince San. What happened earlier spread very quickly across the village. And as her Father I was worried for her reputation. But now knowing this—“

“Not Prince San.” The King proclaims.

Your father stammers in confusion, unsure how to respond. Meanwhile, your heart rate accelerates and you turn to your Mother with worried eyes. She’s mirroring the same expression back to you. 

“Then…to who?”

“As per his request to me,” the King announces, “Y/N will marry my son, Prince Seonghwa, who is second in line for the throne.”

-

When it was revealed that you would not be in attendance, the villagers began to gossip that you bowed out early because you knew you were never going to be selected.

“I’m not surprised,” The Fruit Lady chides, “At least she has the common sense to know she’s not fit to become a wife to a prince. Then again, she and that rag-tag group wants to become dancers, so she probably used up all the common sense she had.”

The other villagers laugh and join in ridiculing you before making guesses about who might be selected. Once it wasn’t you, they didn’t care who it might be. But to their utter shock and surprise, after Prince Chan’s proposal to your cousin, Prince Seonghwa steps forward and declares unapologetically.

“I withdraw myself from this bethroment. I will not be proposing to anyone tonight.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @chngbnwf

[kikiutau]

ZENIN NAOYA & ZENIN NAOBITO: Fucking in Zenin Sin

Zenin Naoya x reader x Zenin Naobito Genre Smut with little to no plot, 18+ Content/TW fem!reader, smut, blowjob, unprotected sex, double penetration, threesome, anal, lowkey incest, degradation, dumbification, humiliation, spanking, misogyny, zenin naoya, age gap (reader is in her 20s), breeding kink, creampie, manhandling, cockwarming, cum swallowing, alcohol use Word Count 6.4k

Author’s Note: uhhhh… enjoy? Or not. More crack smut if anything. For the ones who are into old man dick. I want to support and encourage all the kinks my customers may have ^^ Divider by @/cafekitsune

The Zenin clan embodied the worst of Jujutsu society. When your previous owners sold you off to the Zenin clan, there were mixed whispers of pity and snobbery. It wasn’t as if you weren’t good enough at your job; Your masters simply could no longer afford as many maids as they used to. You were simply one of the unfortunate ones. Rumor has it that the young master stole money from the family treasury to spend it on alcohol, gambling, and the pretty little whore whom he met at a bar.

You’d think that being sold off to the Zenin clan as a woman might be the same as living in hell. But a part of you found it perplexing because Zenin Naobito made you feel… So. Fucking. Good. With him, you felt like you belonged in heaven with every dirty sin the two of you committed on every surface of the Zenin house.

In spite of his grey hairs and prominent wrinkles on his face, he had the stamina of a horny teenager. “Oh fuck—” Your eyes rolled back and your mouth dropped, letting out a wanton moan.

The corner of his lips quipped up. “Don’t tell me you’re getting tired. Keep bouncing on my cock like the good slut you are.” To encourage you—or was it to tease you—he thrusted his hips up, hitting your sweet spot. Another unabashed moan left your lips as you grinded even harder on his cock. Oh god, he felt absolutely euphoric. None of the men your age can make you feel as good. Instead, you decided to turn to the man whose age matched your grandfather’s. But as they say, with age comes experience. And you guessed that being a jujutsu sorcerer allowed his vitality to remain when it comes to sex. You stuck your tongue out, motioning for a kiss. In response, he spanked you, not giving into your demands. You gasped as your pussy involuntarily pulsed on his length. “You think I’d kiss a whore like you?” he scoffed, reaching for the alcohol bottle arms length away. He poured the sake into his mouth, drinking it as if he was a man suffering from thirst.

Your lips jutted out into a slight pout as you watched him drink from the gourd. A part of you wished you were the alcohol that passed his lips and down his throat. Another part of you wished he’d grip your throat the same way he gripped the neck of the bottle. Your eyes started to water as you watched your lover indulge himself in something that’s not your body. You let out a whimper, catching his attention.

He seemed to have caught on to your neediness, a smirk decorating his face. Looking directly into your eyes, Naobito poured the liquid into his mouth before leaning in. You took that as a sign and locked your lips with his, tasting the strong blends of sweetness and acidity. As the alcohol runs down your throat, you feel his tongue entwining with yours. Feeling lightheaded, you wondered if that was the effect of the sake or if you were simply just drunk from the orgasms your lover gifted you earlier. Whatever it was, you craved for more of it. Licking your lips, you looked up, your eyes meeting Naobito’s once more. Before you could say anything, your ass was met with a harsh spank. “What do you say, you whore?”

“Thank you, master~” Your lips curved upwards. Feeling playful, you leaned in, giving a slight peck on his lips. Before you could move away, his hand held the back of your head, deepening the kiss. His other hand, held onto one of your ass cheeks, moving you on his cock, helping you ride him properly. You couldn’t help moaning into his mouth, feeling so full of him.

“Look at you— my sweet little cockwarmer always needing to be filled up. Should I fuck my cum into you, huh? Should I make you bear a Zenin heir?” He pulled out, pushing you onto your back. He watched as your cunt clenched again and again, as if it were trying to find the cock it was squeezing on earlier. Making his way up, he watched your clit: swollen and red. Feeling a tad bit generous today, he gave it the attention it needed, circling the poor neglected thing with his thumb.

You writhed in response, pleads escaping your mouth. “Oh god! Please please please! Please make me a mommy!” you begged. “I’ll be so good. Please give me your cum.”

“Pathetic,” he remarks. He slapped your clit, causing you to gasp in both pain and pleasure. Before he could continue, a third voice rang through the room.

Shit.

Naobito glanced up, noticing the tall young man who happened to walk into them. The man being none other than Zenin Naoya, Naobito’s son and the heir to the Zenin clan. Naoya’s face morphed into one of disgust at seeing his father in the middle of fornicating with one of the maids. To be honest, Naoya didn’t even know that his father’s dick still worked. For all he knew, he thought that Naobito Jr. stayed limp and dry like a wet French fry after inseminating his mother with an heir. He shivered, mentally erasing that thought from his mind.

Naoya then glanced towards you. You were a pretty little thing. You were something he’d fuck if he needed to relieve himself. But you were far from marriage material. You were a peasant. You were already deflowered. You were a nothing more than a fuck toy. He watched your eyes glaze with pleasure. So much pleasure, in fact, you have yet to notice his presence in the room. “You either leave or join. Don’t stand there like an idiot,” Naobito chimed in, slightly annoyed at his son.

To Naoya, it sounded like an invitation. Noticing the prominent bulge in his pants, Naoya rolled his eyes. “Move over, fucking old man.” He impatiently walked towards you, jerking your face toward his erection. “Well? Don’t keep me waiting.” Facing directly towards his clothed crotch, you reach towards it. You were interrupted with a slap on your wrists. Confused, you glanced up back at him.

“Use your mouth.”

Fuck. Why did you feel yourself getting wetter? Is it even possible to be any wetter than you already are? You glanced back towards Naobito who was slowly jerking his cock with a smirk on his face. Well, he seems to get off to the predicament you were in. Not that you were complaining— nothing turned you on more than pleasing Naobito. You looked back at the young Zenin heir. His face bore an expression of boredom, eyes filled with arrogance. Being a good girl you are, you obliged to his order. Biting the waistband of his pants, you slowly pulled it down til his manhood was freed. Hm… no underwear? How convenient (and a part of you wondered if he really stumbled in by accident).

Size wise, they were about the same which made sense since the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. However, compared to the elder Zenin’s, Naoya’s cock was prettier. His cock was flushed in a lighter pink, pubes trimmed. Looking at his length, your mouth watered. Your thoughts begin to wander as you begin to fantasize how he’d feel in your pussy. Naoya, who seemed to notice your dazed reaction, scoffed. His lips curved upward in satisfaction as if he won some sort of contest. His eyes however, reflected his impatience. Taking notice, you quickly enveloped his cock in your mouth. Without warning, he grabbed the back of your head, shoving the rest of his length into your mouth. A choked sound erupted from your throat, your eyes watering. He used your mouth like a fleshlight, choked sounds and gutteral groans emerging from the two of you. “God, no wonder my father kept you around,” he grunted. He began to thrust into your mouth as he bombarded you with insults like a broken record player. “F-fuck- you were born to be a slutty bimbo. Was my father’s cock not enough to satisfy you? Your greedy pussy wanted more Zenin cock? Tell me, how many more clan members did you offer your slutty cunt to?”

“…Mmhmhmhmh~"

Unable to talk with your mouth filled, only muffled sounds came out. Feeling Naoya’s cock touch your uvula every time he thrusted, your cunt dripped with anticipation and lust, your body liking the rough treatment. Before you could even gather your thoughts, Naoya buried your face into his pubes, releasing white ropes of his cum into your mouth. Salty, thick, hot and so goddamn good. And you found it slightly better than Naobito’s. Perhaps it was due to Naobito’s poor diet and alcoholic tendencies that you found yourself preferring the younger Zenin’s cum. Although, these words will never be spoken out loud. Huffing, Naoya forcefully lifted your chin up. “Open.” Obeying the young master, you displayed the cum decorating the insides of your mouth. He approvingly hummed, gathering the saliva in his mouth before spitting it into your mouth. “Swallow.”

You glanced back at the older Zenin, noticing remnants of his cum on the tatami mats and his robe. The sight seemingly makes you lose all reason (as if you had any in the first place). Unable to ignore the throbbing in your core, you went on all fours, displaying your dripping pussy towards the two Zenins. Wiggling your ass in front of them, you pleaded. “P-please! I need the both of you! J-just touch me!” To prove your point, you spread apart your pussy lips, showing your throbbing clit and clenching holes. “Mmhh~”

Naobito and Naoya's eyes met. Their eyes seem to darken in lust and something akin to wickedness. The father and son pair never seemed to agree on anything until now. But seeing their compliant whore displaying her needy little pussy, made them agree on one thing; they made an unspoken vow to destroy whatever pride left you have. But then again, your pride was long gone the moment you decided to be Naobito’s loyal cockwarmer.

Naoya grabbed one of your ass cheeks before proceeding to spank it. You bite your lips, muffling the moan that arose from your throat. “Look at you,” he yanked your hair, pulling your body towards his chest. He leaned into your ear rasping, “Don’t you feel ashamed? Don’t you have any self respect?”

Before you could answer, Naobito interjected. “Well what do you expect from a lowly little thing? The only thing on her cock drunk mind is getting fucked.” He brushed a piece of hair to the back of your hair. “Isn’t that right sweetheart?” he murmured. You nodded, not trusting your own voice. Fuck, he was so right. You were nothing more than a cock sleeve for the Zenin family. From the moment you had a taste of the pleasures the Zenin family could give you, you have wholeheartedly dedicated your life’s purpose to be an obedient slave to them.

“You’ve been fucked in the ass?” Naoya asked, more so a statement rather than an actual question. With how slutty you acted, he was pretty sure you were already used in both the ass and pussy. Such a shame. To him, you were a girl who whored herself out to men twice—even triple— your age. A pretty little thing like you is sure a good fuck. But in terms of marriage, you had absolutely no value. Your only worth came from your tight cunt and your ability to procreate. By the time you lose your youth and get all dried up, Naoya was sure his father was going to replace you with another young, innocent, virgin plaything. It was only a matter of time.

He circled the ring of your ass, before sinking a finger in as a means to tease you. “O-oh!” Surprised by the intrusion, you squirmed within his arms. “Y-young master! Please—“ You didn’t know what you were begging for exactly. But your cockdrunk mind knew one thing: you wanted more. Seeing the sight of his slut at the mercy of his son, Naobito let out a chuckle. Bending down, Naobito blew onto your sensitive clit.

“Haah… uugh… a-ahh!”

“Now then,” Naobito lazily drawled. “Let’s inspect your pretty cunt.” He pulled apart your pussy lips, pretending to give it slight inspection. Dipping his tongue into your hole, he slurped your juices as if you were his beloved rice wine. Feeling him drag his tongue against your aching walls, made your toes curl. The younger Zenin, moved his attention towards your breasts, kneading it, slapping it, pulling it. Using his fingers, he teasingly pulled on your nipples. Being pleasured by the two Zenin, gave you more than enough stimulation to get close to climaxing.

Naoya, noticing your body tensing, continued to assault your boobs. “Oh? Cumming so soon? Don’t tell me you’re actually getting off to the old fucker,” he laughed. “Feeling good?”

“Mmmmm. Feels so so so good,” you babbled, drool escaping the corner of your mouth.

“Ha! What a dirty bitch!” Naoya exclaimed, collecting the drool to use as lube for your asshole. Just as you were about to cum, Naobito pulled away, leaving you all dazed and confused.

“W-why?” you whined, squirming, tears about to spill over. “Let me cum!”

Unimpressed by your attitude, Naobito slapped your cunt. “Behave.”

Naoya playfully tsked at you, condemning you for your poor choice of words. Without a warning, Naoya lifted your body up as he started to bullied his cock into your tight ass.

“FUCK!” You cursed, causing Naobito to once again reprimand you by slapping your over-abused pussy.

“M’ gonna ruin this tight ass of yours.” Naoya grinned, his eyes reflecting his joyous desire to ruin you. “I’m going to fucking teach you how to be an obedient little slut.” You yelped, grabbing whatever you could get a hold of. In this case, it was Naoya. He kept fucking you, chasing his high, not caring whether or not you reached yours. Feeling your ass tighten on his cock, he pulled out, preferring to finish himself off in his hands than let you have the relief you’ve been seeking for. You fell limp onto Naobito, as you moaned in pain of having your orgasm taken away from you once again. Naoya groaned as he jerked himself off, finishing on your back.

Naobito, finally running out of patience, gave you no reprieve as he rubbed the head of his cock on your pussy. You screeched as you felt him enter. He chuckled at the way you desperately tried to grab onto his robe as a futile attempt to deal with your pleasure. You panted as he began to move his hips. Distracted by Naobito’s cock thrusting into you with a deep force, you didn’t seem to realize that the younger Zenin was right behind you. He held his cock to your rear, stretching your hole once again with his girth.

With the surprise intrusion, you couldn’t help but reach your long needed climax, getting off to the pain and pleasure the Zenins’ provided. Your mouth opened as a silent gasp escapes you with your back arched, head resting back on Naoya’s shoulder.

“You like getting fucked in both holes, huh?” Naoya teased. Looking at the gourd nearby, Naoya grabbed it before pouring the rest of the alcohol contents onto your tongue. Most of it dripped down to the crevices of your breasts and down to where the three of you were connected. Naobito, too pussydrunk to even reprimand his son, bent down to slurp at the remaining sake on your breasts, before choosing to suck on one of your nipples in hopes it'll produce some kind of liquid.

You felt so stretched out, feeling very vein and bump of their cocks. Naobito let your sensitive nipple go with a pop. His eyes wandered to your face, noticing how fucked up you looked with your eyes rolled back and mouth open. God, you looked like an angel to him. The prettiest thing he has ever seen. “Fuck— you’re taking us so well,” he groaned

“Ye— OH! O-oh… Hnnghnn!” Unable to make a complete sentence, the best you could do was wantonly moan like a whore.

In. Out. In. Out. You didn’t know how much more you could take. “Too much, fuck fuck fuck! Nao—“ You cried as you came on their cocks again. Unfortunately for you, the two of them continued to rut into you like animals in the heat, their thick cocks rubbing against your walls.

After God knows how long, Naoya was the first one to finish. “Fuck,” he grunted, stilling his hips as he came into your ass. Being the menace he is, he reached towards your clit, rigorously rubbing it as if you didn’t come already.

“P-PLEASE! N-No more! I-it’s too m-much,” you cried, tears dripping down your face.

Naoya raised his eyebrow. “Oh? But weren’t you begging to come earlier? Please please please. Let me cum,” he mocked. You couldn’t answer since the only sounds you could produce were blubbering whimpers at this point. Naoya continued to play with your clit, much to your dismay. With the extra stimulation, your walls clenched. Naobito let out a deep groan as he felt your wet cunt throb against him. With a curse, he spilled his load inside of you, gifting you with the possibility of more Zenin heirs.

Seemingly done with entertaining himself, Naoya pulled out, watching his cum drip out of your ass all while his father was still plugged into your pussy. He pulled his pants back up, and before leaving, he gave you a quick spank on the ass. Sharing you with his father was less than ideal however, he assumed that it was a better-than-nothing type of situation. Luckily today, his father was in a good mood to share his whore with him. Otherwise, Naoya would’ve been kicked out and been severely reprimanded later on. If he finds you wandering in the estate by yourself another day, he is going to take you for himself next time. And there’s no need for his father to know of his plans.

With Naoya gone, the only thing that could be heard in the room is labored breathing. Naobito held you in his arms as the two of you tried to recover from the high. Feeling his limp cock slowly get hard again, you wiggled your ass, causing him to give you a light smack on your rear.

A light chuckle left you. “Again?”

Naobito smirked at you, a sly grin etching his face. Moving you into a mating press, he playfully thrusts into you.

“Let’s give Naoya a sibling.”

Author's Note: My first fic! Absolutely unhinged LMAO! Anyways, I'm open to asks and thirsts. Please send them my way ♡

[mariacallous]

The recent weeks have obliged me to unearth some research I had hoped could stay on the backburner. In 2023, I wrote about the major forms of democratic erosion facing the United States: election subversion and executive aggrandizement. “Even a legitimately elected leader can undermine democracy,” I noted, “if they eliminate governmental ‘checks and balances’ or consolidate power in unaccountable institutions.” In 2022, I suggested that, if weaknesses in the formal institutions of American politics made it difficult to forestall additional assaults on the Constitution, the final backstop of democracy is civil society.

Historically, the United States has been fortunate to have a strong civil society. Many of these institutions have weakened. In this article, I quickly review how some sectors—the media, the academy, business, and mass voluntary organizations—are responding to “the most serious examples of executive branch malfeasance in American history.”

American civil society has essential nodes of power that must be energized in the coming days and for the foreseeable future. Not merely the individuals in these institutions, but the institutions themselves must coordinate to provide a public counterweight to the sharp lurch toward personalist rule. That work is not easy. Any more time lost to disbelief, silence, and acquiescence will make it much harder.

Some major media institutions have been slow off the mark. Major scoops have come from unexpected outlets, including independent journalists and the technology magazine WIRED, which was the first to reveal that Elon Musk’s young staff had the power to alter the $6 trillion Treasury payment system, a fact that Treasury officials had denied. (A federal judge has since blocked access. An earlier ruling had limited access to read-only, a problematic ruling given Musk’s conflicts of interest and the security threats posed by his unvetted and secretive young staff. It is unclear if either order is being followed.)

DC’s hometown paper, the Washington Post, should by rights have the best sources in the federal government, but the interference of the paper’s owner, Jeff Bezos, in the planned endorsement of Kamala Harris, and his prominent place at the Trump inauguration, may well be keeping whistleblowers away. The paper nonetheless has provided some important reporting, including this round-up of Elon Musk’s interference in government operations. The New York Times has buried several excellent, insightful analyses and essays deep in the paper, and adopted tortured euphemisms and vague, small-print headlines that leave their readers uninformed of the gravity of the news.

Academic institutions are largely silent, but that may be changing. Academics have for years been sounding the alarm about America’s democratic erosion, and many continue to provide vital analysis and context. See, for example, these analyses from Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt, Kim Lane Scheppele, and Don Moynihan. But academia has been outspoken as individuals. Institutions have mostly remained silent—though they may be shaken loose from their apathy by the executive orders interfering with billions in congressionally appropriated funds for scientific research.

Coordinated public pronouncements from university leadership, especially from law and medical schools, would assist citizens in understanding the scope of the dangers confronting the country. Top hospital administrators and medical associations that have been quiescent in recent weeks need to make clear the immense public health costs of ill-considered, arbitrary, and unlawful interference with government-funded science. In addition, professional associations have the power to sanction their members, a power they should exercise in defense of the public sphere, as my colleague Quinta Jurecic has argued.

Business concerns are not yet being channeled into political action. Autocratic populist leaders damage the economy; their countries see their GDPs drop due to erratic policymaking, cronyism, and underinvestment in public goods. But, as I wrote last year, business leaders have a tragic history of misjudging these dangers. American business influence, moreover, has grown increasingly ideologically conservative and focused on narrow benefits like tax cuts and regulatory rollbacks.

Since the election, business leaders have truckled to the new administration—a trend many, including President Trump, have suggested is driven by fear of official reprisals. That fear is, of course, one of the common ways in which opposition to populist authoritarian leaders is eliminated.

It may be, however, that business will awake to the massive economic dangers posed by executive overreach. Opaque and unpredictable stoppages of congressionally mandated spending by federal agencies will ramify throughout the economy. An unvetted young individual meddling with the code that underwrites the Treasury payment system is, as one Treasury contractor wrote, an “unprecedented insider threat risk.” (That contractor has since been “removed” by their employer, Booz Allen, a consulting firm heavily reliant on government contracts.)

Mass mobilization is underway, but those efforts will struggle if elites continue to underplay the magnitude of the moment. Congressional offices have been flooded with phone calls. As the volume went from the usual dozens to more than 1,500 calls per minute, the phone system buckled under the strain. Advocacy organizations appear to have been caught flat-footed by the speed of Musk’s incursions. Small protests have occurred at government agencies and congressional offices, with union organizations often playing a key role.

Religious organizations have not yet been prominent in most public protests, but they have an essential role to play. As my colleague Jonathan Rauch has written in a new book, churches must combat the rise of what has been termed Christian nationalism.

More broadly, public opposition to the second Trump administration remains far smaller than it was the last time around, even though recent actions represent a far more aggressive assault on American governance. This is perhaps in part because Trump’s loss of the popular vote in 2016 provided an impetus for organizing before the administration even began. Whether the organizing gap will close is a critical question in the weeks and months to come.

Across all of sectors of civil society, coordination is key. Individual objections do not carry the weight of joint action. It is worth noting that censorship in authoritarian China does not focus on “negative, even vitriolic, criticism of the state,” it silences “comments that represent, reinforce, or spur social mobilization.” Resistance to authoritarianism, like democracy itself, is a collective endeavor.

[ancientcharm]

Nero: The end of the Julio-Claudian dynasty (Part I)

He was born on December 15, 37. His birth name was Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus; When he was adopted by his great-uncle, the Emperor Claudius, his name changed to Nero Claudius Caesar.

Nero was born in the first year of his maternal uncle's reign. His mother, Agrippina, was in her prime, but a year and a half later, accused of treason she was banished. The little boy was left in the care of his paternal aunt Domitia. In the year 40, his father died.

In January 41, his uncle emperor Gaius ('Calígula) was assassinated. His great-uncle Claudius ascended the throne and brought Agrippina back. In 49, when he was 11 years old, his mother married her own uncle Claudius and becoming empress. He was adopted by emperor, and Agrippina appointed as his tutor the famous Hispanic philosopher, orator and politician Seneca.

At the age of 15 he was forced to marry 13-year-old Octavia, daughter of Claudius and Messalina.

Marble portrait of young Nero, c. 50. Photo by Egisto Sani. Empress Agrippina and young emperor Nero. Photo by Carlos Delgado.

On October 13, 54, 16-year-old Nero became the youngest ruler in Roman history up to that time. Octavia, 14, became the new empress consort. And 25 years after Livia's death, Rome once again has an Empress Mother. The sculpture shows Agrippina crowning him, a clear message that he owes her the throne. This sculpture had hundreds of copies placed throughout the empire.

Something unprecedented happened in Roman coins. Agrippina appears alongside her son on the same side of the coin, as if she were co-ruler, and she was indeed. Those coins, minted at the obvious request of Agrippina, circulated until the year 57. In 58 her image was seen next to Nero with him in front. From the year 59, only the image of Nero would remain.

Four months of reign : The first murder?

According to Tacitus, Nero removed Agrippina's favorite freedman from his position as Secretary of the Treasury. Agrippina, feeling outraged, threatened to replace him with Britannicus.

According Suetonius :

"Nero sent for the poisoner Locusta and he forced her to mix as swift and instant a potion as she knew how in his own room before his very eyes. He tried it on a goat but the animal lingered for five hours. Had the mixture steeped again and threw some on a pig.; The beast instantly fell dead. Pleased, Nero ordered that the poison be taken to the dining-room and given to Britannicus. The boy dropped dead ins at the very first taste, and Nero lied; He said that Britannicus was sick and always fell suddenly. The next day had him hastily and unceremoniously buried in a pouring rain. Nero rewarded Locusta for her eminent services, with large estates in the country."

According all sources: One day before his 14th birthday, on February 11, 55, Britannicus was at a banquet attended by his sister Octavia, Agrippina, Nero, and several important people, and suddenly fell death.

About this matter I must say that those writers contradict themselves since also assure that in the first three years of his reign, Nero lived in acceptable leisure in the palace and obeyed his mother. While Seneca, the prefect Sextus Afranius Burrus and Agrippina were the ones who ruled.

What is the true story? Nero was a young puppet emperor who lived relaxed and obedient to his mother during his first three years, or after four months of reign he was already making decisions, defying his mother, and poisoned a member of his family in his own home in front of everyone?

It's possible that the boy suffered from epilepsy. And it's possible that so that readers would not doubt that it was a murder, the writers related the death of Britannicus to the conflict between the emperor and his mother; A conflict that actually began two or three years later according to these same writers, and the coins confirm it.

On the other hand, experts assure that there is no poison ingested orally that instantly kills the victim as Suetonius describes.

The start of the trouble

Portrait of Poppaea Sabina painted by an artist of the Fontainebleau School in 1570. Museum of Art and History, Geneva.

Early year 58. Nero at the age of 20 fell in love with Poppaea Sabina, wife of his friend Marcus Salvius Otho. They began an openly adulterous relationship and rumors of the scandal spread through the city. Agrippina was furious and took Octavia's side, surely not out of affection for her daughter-in-law but because such marriage was a matter of politics and authority. It was at this time that Nero began to become independent from his mother, as well as from Seneca and Burrus, and it was probably in that year that he dismissed Agrippina's favorite freedman. Nero forced Otho to divorce Poppaea and appointed him governor of Lusitania. At that time this was a dissembled exile since Lusitania was the poorest and most boring province in the empire.

The fall and death of Agrippina.

'The Shipwreck of Agrippina' by Gustav Wertheimer. XIX Century

Early 59. Agrippina was forced to retire to live in her villa in Misenum.

Historians claim that one day she and her friend Acerronia set sail with the helmsman Gallus in the Bay of Naples, and on the ship Nero had hidden men who were trying to kill her. They were on deck, under a canopy that had been secretly loaded with lead. At a given signal, the top fell, killing the helmsman and the ship began to sink. Agrippina swam quickly to shore when a man appeared in a boat shouting Agrippina's name; She remained silent but Acerronia shouted: "Here, I am!". The man, hitting her with the oar, killed her, believing she was Agrippina.

Tacitus wrote about it: "Nothing allowed of accidents as the sea." So, it really could have been an accident in which the helmsman and that lady drowned but not Agrippina who swam quickly or could be rescued. If it was an attack, a top-secret plan by Nero, how do they know the details with such precision? Is it possible that the writer, upon hearing the story of Agrippina's accident, created the story of an intricate attack?.

Time later, some guards arrived at the villa of Agrippina with the order to execute her on charges of conspiracy. According to Suetonius: "Agrippina showed them her bare belly and said one of them to stick his sword where her murderer had been conceived."

"After trying to kill his mother three times with poison and discovering that she had become immune thanks to antidotes, he manipulated the ceiling of her bedroom, devising a mechanical device to loosen the panels and let them fall on her while she slept. Agrippina discovered the plan, so Nero devised a folding boat to simulate a shipwreck." -Suetonius

Suetonius writes that Nero sent three men to kill her after learning of the failed attack in the bay. They also claim that this matricide was at the request of Poppaea, who according to them "she was a lady who had everything except decency".

The truth is that on March 23, 59, Agrippina the Younger died at the age of 43 in Misenum, after having lived an intense life of glorious and tragic moments. She died in the same city where, 22 years earlier her hated great-uncle Emperor Tiberius, had died.

'Nero before the corpse of his mother, Agrippina the Younger ' by Arturo Montero y Calvo, 1887

Sources also claim that Agrippina's corpse was brought before Nero and he only said that his mother looked beautiful even in death.

Regarding this matter, I see three possibilities:

1: Nero fed up with the dominant behavior of her mother or at the simple request of Poppaea, decided to kill her even though she was already far from Rome and therefore could no longer bother them.

2: Agrippina, seeing herself deposed and stripped of her privileged position, simply decided to take her own life in her villa.

3: Furious with her son and for having lost what she had, she was plotting from Misenum, and Nero found out this ordered her execution or more likely exile. Knowing that she would be exiled and probably executed in exile, Agrippina decided it was better to committed suicide. This was a very common attitude in the ancient world.

Except for her sister Drusilla, all her siblings had died at the hands of others; Not even the brother who became emperor was spared from being assassinated. Knowing the mentality of the ancient Romans, undoubtedly Agrippina decided not to suffer the same fate.

But if Agrippina was really murdered, surely she was taken by surprise, while she was sleeping or with her back to the murderer. Resigned and theatrical attitude before the executioners, such as that described by Suetonius, is very un-Roman and very unlikely in the proud Agrippina the Younger.

Surely Suetonius wanted to belittle her, which is not surprising since in addition to the alleged incest with her brother "Caligula", Suetonius also claims that she tried to seduce her own son; then she couldn't die like a noble Roman lady. Furthermore, it became clear to me that Suetonius's style is inherently dramatic and sensational.

Also according to Suetonius from that time until his death the emperor was tormented by the ghost of his mother, and sought a magician to expel the ghost from the palace since Nero claimed that Agrippina was everywhere, especially at night. This could be true, or simply a Suetonius-style reaffirming account of Nero's guilt.

'The Remorse of the Emperor Nero after the Murder of his Mother' by John William Waterhouse, 1878

Part II

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Male Yandere Husband x Pregnant Female Stepford Wife Reader

(I don’t think you’ve done anything like this yet? So if not, think you can try?)

I want him to be a master manipulator, but really delusional in a loving/devoted sense. Believing that what he’s doing is for our best interest, as well as the baby’s. That includes confining us at home, always being with us 24/7 when we’re outside our home, etc. And generally getting us to be 100% dependent on him, (like we already weren’t heavily dependent on him before…)

Thank you!!! 💝

Yandere! Husband! Politician x Pregnant! Fem! Stepford! Wife! Reader

SORRY IT TOOK ME LONG TO GET THIS REQUEST DONE!

I had a hard time incorporating the yandere stuff with such a willing reader, but I tried LOL.

This one's only got two sections, since the both of you are married already, so it went straight to the yandere-ness.

But here ya go! Requests will be back on once more!

BTW, the master list is up now! It's my pinned post.

Yandere! Politician name: Maximus

Maximus.

Just like his name, he was the greatest Politician out there. Whatever that means.

He's charming, intuitive, generous, kind, and compassionate.

Every election season, if you ask people who will they vote as a mayor or whatever position Maximus ran as, they'll say

"Isn't it obvious? Of course it's Maximus!"

So it didn't faze the people that he won whenever he ran.

As young as he is, he's always been active in the political sphere. From the student council, he's always been in the highest positions out there. Secretary, Vice President, and President.

Hell, if you ask him to do treasury, then he'll gladly accept and do it much better than the current treasurer or auditor. No specks, no crumbs, a clean liquidation sheet.

And when he graduated as the University president, local parties flocked towards him to invite him in their political party.

So many choices for the great Maximus.

After many days of researching and finding out the dirt, secrets, strengths, and weaknesses of each political party, he chose a party suited for the straight laced man.

That, and that you were there.

You were the unlisted assistant of your father, who was running as vice mayor, and is finding a mayor to be with.

This was perfect.

Maximus has always liked you.

Scratch that.

He always loved you.

You were the daughter of a well known governor inside your city. Pristine, shy, quiet, and always had a smile in your face, everyone back in school liked you. You were the epitome of etiquette and manners. If parents want somebody to compare to their child to belittle them, it would be you, little miss perfect.

Both of you live in a small city, almost a town size. So everyone knew each other, and you both lived in the same district.

it's just that he didn't fly under your radar from how busy he is.

Unlike your father, you never joined politics. You just sat there, studied, did some small knitting projects or sewing. Maybe even drawing if you felt like it.

At first, Maximus didn't really pay you any attention, until he heard your conversation with your friends.

"What? Seriously?"

"I am serious." Your melodious laugh echoed through the empty halls. It was already 5pm, and only a handful of students are left.

"But... That's so traditional lol."

"I know, but really. I just want to stay at home, serve my husband, take care of our kids... You know, the gist."

"But, you said you'll do Social work, Home eco, or culinary in Uni. So what's up with that?"

You just smiled at your friends until they said "oh..." in understanding.

Those courses can help develop your home rearing skills.

"I mean, sure. If you're happy with that." One of your friends finally broke the silence, followed by "meh's..." "eh..." and grunts of approval.

"Thank you for accepting for who I am." You smiled once more at them and they gave you an understanding grin.

Then and there, Maximus became curious about you.

Maximus also had a traditional way of thinking. Not all women, but his wife should just be staying pretty in his home, while taking care of their children...

He knew that only a small percentage of people would be open to that notion, and he was fine with it.

It did made him feel lonely sometimes. He's always dreamt of a domestic life, but the woman is always a faceless grey glob. He just can't see somebody in his life who would be willing to be like that.

So when he heard your conversation, that night in his dreams, he woke up sweating and confused when the faceless glob greeted him. But rather than the glob, it was you. Smiling with two children who looked like the exact perfect mix of the both of you.

"What the fuck..." He breathed out of his mouth, shaking his head.

Now, every night, his dreams were infiltrated with you.

And that started in highschool, all throughout University, up until you both graduated.

Your paths never crossed once more, since he's in AP classes most of the time, both of you were on different blocks in senior highschool despite having the same strand, and he chose Political Science in University while you did BS in Home Economics. But he always peeled his eyes for you. Dismissal, lunch, even breaks.

His friends teased him for having such a long time crush, and he just laughed and waved his hand.

And when the both of you graduated, he's about to confess his feelings when he saw you talking with a man, with eyes so wide and filled with adoration.

He felt his heart break.

He was numb, standing there and looking at you interact with the man who was smiling down at you with a ruffle on your hair.

He felt irrationally jealous.

Wait, him? Jealous?

He never felt jealous.

Did he?

He doesn't know anymore.

All he could see is you holding a bouquet of lilies and smelling it while the man hugged you.

He wants to rip the man limb from limb, desecrate his body, and feed it to the alligators.

Why is he wrapping his arms around you like that? He never heard you getting a boyfriend?

And he has a lot of connections to know.

Then he scoffed, like a breath of fresh air rushing into his lungs.

He needed a break.

When did he act like this? When did he become so...

He doesn't even know what it's called.

He's always been a good man. One that doesn't know anger, jealousy, possessiveness...

But what's this? Feelings that stirred inside him threatened to spill out.

So he ran away before it would get worse.

Years later, seeing your name in that certain partylist, he knew he had to join it. Just for a one sided closure he needed.

"Hello! You're Y/N right? You went to the same... School as me!" Maximus said, leaning his upper body to meet your face. His face soft, gentle, and mellow.

"O-oh! Hello sir Maximus! I knew we did, but I didn't know you knew me..." You shyly answered, your thumb brushing against the back of your other hand.

Maximus gulped.

He didn't realize how much he is missing you.

His eyes scanned towards your desk and his eyes widened a bit when he saw the man once more with you in a photo, but this time, with your father and mother.

So, with his trembling lips from the sudden hope bubbling inside him, he pointed.

"Is that your family?" He whispered and you nodded with a soft smile of adoration.

"Yes. I love them a lot." You said, caressing the photo. "That's my dad, mom, and my big brother."

"Oh! That's amazing. It's rare to see a tight knit family nowadays. I mean, families falling left and right, can't people just communicate and--" Maximus rambled, not even caring if the things he's saying is insensitive. He was just so happy that he actually has a chance to woo you.

"Is that so? I mean, my family had fallouts, and sometimes communication is not enough. Actions speak louder than words, of course." You said, carrying the conversation further.

Maximus grinned before taking a seat beside you and talking about deep, familial stuff. With him sprinkling hints of him being a traditional man.

You didn't miss the hints, evident from the blush forming on your cheeks and the shyness emanating from your words faltering.

And he found it adorable.

Once you both ran out of things to debate, he held your hand gently.

"Hey, y/n, what do you think about going on a date with me?"

The rest is history.

"Darling, I'm home!" Maximus yelled once he got inside the mansion. "Today was a bit of a mess..."

Maximus heard an excited gasp and shuffling before he saw you waddling towards him, with a 7 month pregnant belly.

"Welcome home, darling." You greeted him with the smile he loves.

You took off his coat and hung it on the rack, before guiding him towards the kitchen.

"I helped cook today! The dinner for this night is lamb ch... Maximus?"

Maximus has a frown on his face, looking at you with such a disapproving look.

"Darling, why are you working in the kitchen?" He gently asked, caressing your belly. "You're pregnant, you need to rest always!"

You shrunk down a bit, sad.

"But I want to serve you again..."

Maximus' eyes softened at your words before giving you a loving kiss on your forehead.

"I know, darling. But that's what the chefs are for right? The servants too. I hired them to take care of you. Of us." He said, guiding you to the couch and gently sitting you down. "I don't want you getting tired. You're already being burdened by being pregnant and nurturing our child."

You nodded, easily swayed by his words.

"I know... Give me a kiss?" You asked, tilting your head up. He chuckled and gave you a soft peck.

"There. Now stay there, alright? We'll be eating here in the living room. You're already walking too much." Maximus said before hugging you and going to the kitchen.

Once he got to the kitchen, he grabbed a knife and threw it at the chef that was already cowering in the corner.

"Why did you let Y/N work?" He growled out, his eyes sharp, deadly, and authoritative.

Ever since you got married to Maximus, his protectiveness shot through the roof. He doesn't like it when he doesn't know where you are, he doesn't know when he doesn't know what you are doing, he doesn't like it if you talked to people he doesn't know personally.

He installed cameras, mics, and planted people around you that he knew he can scare into submission.

Especially now you're pregnant, he's making sure you always stayed beside him.

When did he become so twisted, from the nice, generous, and kind politician, to something like... Him?

"S-sir, the madam insisted on cooking for you!" The chef trembled out.

You were a rare type of woman who was so open to just being at home, and be the wife he needed to see every time he goes home.

He can't let you go.

Ever.

Maximus sneered and bit his nail, eyes sharp with thoughts.

"I need to drill in more thoughts into her pretty head..." Maximus grumbled.

You were already so willing just being inside the mansion, and so open to his manipulation that you weren't aware of.

He told you that you don't need to go out, that the world was a scary place for a wife like you. And that whenever you go out, you needed to be by his side.

He's already working so hard serving the city, and serving you is a bonus, and a privilege.

He's so occupied with taking care of the place both of you growing up, yet had the time, love, affection, and care to single you out and shower you with his attention. Why would you need to do anything other than serving him as his wife? That's blasphemy, and selfish.

He drilled that in your mind.

And you were so accepting of the fact too.

"If she insisted on helping in the kitchen once more, tell her 'what would sir think?', okay?" He spat out at the poor chef before suddenly smiling. "Don't tell anybody this, or else your family gets it."

He walked away with a triumphant smile and grabbed the food from the counter.

He walked towards you, and saw you scratching your cheek softly confused and scared, almost.

"What's wrong, darling?" Maximus asked, worry etched on his face as he sat down beside you.

"Oh, uh, I just..." You gave him your phone, which was ringing with the number of the exclusive nursery room designer he hired. "C-can you talk to him? I don't know what to do..."

Maximus shivered, seeing you so dependent on him.

Clueless on what to do, on what to say.

He smiled before taking the call for you, with his hand holding yours.

You didn't even start eating yet, waiting for his words to start.

His cute little wife can't even eat by herself.

How... perfect.

This was his perfect life.

With the perfect wife.

And he'll be damned if he didn't protect this.

If he didn't protect you.

So just be swayed with his words and put yourself in his palm.

He will make sure you are well taken care of, and that your pretty little brain will not hurt from thinking too much.

That's a promise.

[whencyclopedia]

Alexander Hamilton

Alexander Hamilton (1755/57-1804) was a lawyer and politician, often recognized as a Founding Father of the United States. He served as George Washington's aide-de-camp during the American Revolution, before going on to become the first US secretary of the treasury and a leader of the Federalist Party. He was mortally wounded in a duel with Aaron Burr in July 1804.

Early Life

Alexander Hamilton was born on the small island of Nevis in the British West Indies on 11 January 1755 or 1757; most modern scholars favor 1755 as his birth year, based on the discovery of a 1768 probate paper that listed his age as 13. He and his older brother, James, Jr., were born out of wedlock to James Hamilton, the wayward younger son of a Scottish laird, and Rachel Faucette Lavien, a married woman who had abandoned her husband after years of unhappy marriage. The couple lived together for several years until 1765, when James Hamilton abruptly deserted his family, either because he had run out of money or because he knew his continued presence would leave the still-married Rachel vulnerable to charges of bigamy. In any case, Rachel was left destitute. To provide for her sons, she opened a modest shop on St. Croix, purchasing her merchandise from her landlord. In early 1768, both Rachel and Alexander contracted yellow fever; while the boy soon recovered, the mother succumbed to the disease on 19 February.

The orphaned Hamilton brothers were sent to live with a cousin, Peter Lytton, but this situation would end after only a year when Lytton committed suicide. The brothers were then split up; James, Jr., was apprenticed to a carpenter, while Alexander found work clerking for the merchant house of Beekman and Cruger. Still only a teenager, Hamilton excelled at his various tasks, which included tracking cargo, helping to chart courses for ships, and calculating prices in multiple currencies. In 1771, he was even left in charge of the firm for five months while the owner was away. Hamilton was a voracious reader who aspired to write works of his own and penned several poems in the early 1770s. In the autumn of 1772, he wrote a letter to his father in which he detailed a hurricane that had recently devastated St. Croix. The letter found its way into publication in a local paper, the Royal Danish-American Gazette, leaving readers dazzled with its vivid and bombastic descriptions:

It seemed as if a total dissolution of nature was taking place. The roaring of the sea and wind, fiery meteors flying about it in the air, the prodigious glare of almost perpetual lightning, the crash of falling houses, and the ear-piercing shrieks of the distressed, were sufficient to strike astonishment into the angels.

(quoted in Chernow, 37)

This essay would prove to be one of the most consequential of Hamilton's life; upon learning that its author was only 17, local community leaders pooled their funds to send the promising young man to college in North America. He landed in Boston in October 1772, before going on to New York City, where he would enroll in King's College (present-day Columbia University) the following year. Hamilton was insatiably ambitious and dove into his studies, which included a classical curriculum of Greek and Latin as well as rhetoric, history, mathematics, and science. His academic career would soon be interrupted, however, by the rising tensions between Great Britain and the Thirteen Colonies over the question of American liberties, particularly that of taxation without representation. Hamilton became swept up in the Whig (or Patriot) movement, writing a series of anonymous pamphlets in which he defended the Boston Tea Party, supported the actions of the First Continental Congress, and condemned Parliament's Intolerable Acts. He opposed the mob violence often displayed by fellow Patriots; on 10 May 1775, he saved the college's Loyalist president, Myles Cooper, from an angry mob by speaking to the crowd long enough to allow Cooper to escape.

Continue reading...

[itsgameofthronesimagines]

Two Roads Diverged

(Gif not mine)

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Relationships: Rhaenyra Targaryen & Sister!Targaryen!Reader, Daemon Targaryen/Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen/Niece!Targaryen!Reader, Daemon Targaryen & Niece!Targaryen!Reader

Summary: Rhaenyra and Y/n Targaryen were born in this world together, but whether by the will of the gods or the fire and blood running through their veins, the twin sisters would walk down two very different paths.

Warnings: Incest, death, grusome depictions of a dead body, family drama, daddy issues, etc. (to be added)

Words: 8,852

Request by: @ivy-targaryen

Taglist: @gruffle1 @borikenlove

A/N: Another beautiful and creative request by the same one who brought us the inspiration behind 'the Strong Dragon' series! This will be a long one so strap in!

(I do not consent to my works being reposted/copied)

~~~~~~~~~

Viserys Targaryen, son of Prince Baelon and Princess Alyssa Targaryen, wed his cousin, Aemma Arryn, daughter of Lord Rodrik Arryn and Princess Daella Targaryen in 93 AC. In 97 AC, the young couple was blessed with not one, but two twin daughters. The first to scream and cry and kick was Little Rhaenyra, soon followed by her sister, Y/n. Little did the new parents know that their family would be completed after the twins' birth, and a legacy for many tales to come, both good and bad, was set in stone that day.

In 103 AC, Viserys is crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms after his grandfather, King Jaehaerys, passed away in his sleep. The realm was thrown into a new generation of Targaryens and would eventually hold the most living dragons in recorded history. The twin princesses were the first to ensure that legacy when hatching two dragon eggs of their own from their cribs. Rhaenyra, once she was old enough to speak, named her she-dragon Syrax after a goddess of Valyria. Y/n, always trailing after her sister, decided to name her dragon after the Targaryen who foresaw the Doom of Valyria, Daenys.

With the throne secure and Viserys' reign inherited with a full treasury and blessing for his late grandsire, the Wise King, both the new king and his queen held a splendid court with the promise of peace and prosperity. The realm was the brightest and most fruitful during Viserys' reign as he was optimistic and eager to please the people he ruled over. In many eyes, Viserys' had a secure succession. With his brother Daemon at court with him, two daughters to bear him grandchildren one day, and the hope of Queen Aemma to soon bear a son, Viserys was not short of heirs and he did well to teach his daughters the way of ruling a kingdom, not to mention seven of them.  

Princess Rhaenyra was always the Realm's Delight. As for her younger twin, Princess Y/n, no one bestowed her with an honorable title or put her on a pedestal. After all, she was not the eldest and certainly not the heir. Even though she gained and rode a dragon at the same age as her sister, Rhaenyra will always cast the largest shadow. Rhaenyra was quickly named King Viserys' cupbearer at the age of eight and was always by her father's side at feasts, balls, and tourneys. Y/n, on the other hand, tended to her mother and was rarely seen without Queen Aemma.

Despite having different passions, the twins were still just that: twins. They still did practically everything together. As they grew, so did their boldness and ambition. Rhaenyra and Y/n did hunting, hawking, singing, and riding together. And oftentimes, their favorite companion was none other than their uncle. Daemon did many of these activities with the young princesses. At first, he did so to chaperone them at the request of his dear cousin, the Queen, but then he grew to love his little nieces more than anyone and anything, so he gladly joined them without complaint. He spent plenty of time with them, either to tell them stories of his travels, gift them with foreign treasures, or even rode his dragon Caraxes alongside their flying beasts between King's Landing and Dragonstone.

As history plays out in the coming years and when people read the books, it didn't come to much of a shock to learn just how much both of the princesses loved their uncle. Scholars tell us and most agree with each other that Y/n loved him first, but was only bold enough to admit this to her sister. Mushroom, King Viserys' fool and later an entrusted ally to Princess Rhaenyra (or so he claims) tells us that Rhaenyra kept her sister's secret. He says that the eldest twin did so for the same reason why Y/n was always taking the fall for Rhaenyra's misgivings whenever they got in trouble. The sisters loved one another and would do anything for each other. Y/n would take the blame for Rhaenyra's faults, and in exchange, Rhaenyra would keep Y/n's faults a secret.

So yes, Rhaenyra remained the Realm's Delight in the public eye while Y/n appeared to be the nuisance of the pair. Over the years, as she got older, the People had grown to name Y/n many things, but we will get there in time. First, let's return to the story. The twins' dynamic never changed even as the worst of a child's nightmares came to fruition. Queen Aemma dies in childbed and her son, Baelon, only outlives her by a day. The following events are what transpired. Daemon is banished to Dragonstone, Rhaenyra is officially named Heir to the Iron Throne, Alicent Hightower becomes Viserys' new queen, and as a result, she bore him four children. Aegon, the eldest son, Helaena, the only daughter, Aemond, the second son, and Daeron, the third son and youngest.

Princess Y/n was ecstatic to have younger half-siblings, though Rhaenyra didn't share her enthusiasm. Given that Queen Alicent was once her most loyal, entrusted friend, Rhaenyra felt betrayed by her father's new bride and therefore found little love for her half-siblings. The twins continued to confide in one another before anyone else until the time came when Rhaenyra was ordered by their father to find a husband. For once, Y/n was unable to get her sister out of her predicament and thus could not take the fall for what was about to happen.

Rhaenyra made her journey across the realm in search of a prince consort and when she returned, Y/n was rewarded with the return of her sister and her uncle all at once. Daemon had been busy fighting a war in the Stepstones and returned with a crown on his head that he later surrendered to his brother as a sign of love and good faith. King Viserys, therefore, welcomed Daemon with open arms and a celebration transpired. Daemon made time to acknowledge his brother's new queen before taking the time to reacquaint himself with his nieces. He drank and dined with them and even danced with Y/n when she asked. Viserys was drunk and jolly, delighted to see his brother among his family again. All was well.

The following day happened to be the day that solidified the future war known as the Dance of Dragons (or Dying of Dragons) and no one other than a chosen few had the eye to see it.

Y/n was awakened by Ser Arryk and her handmaiden in the earliest morning when the sun had not yet risen. Confused and equally worried, she dutifully got dressed and followed the Kingsguard down the hall. Barely anyone was awake at this hour, she had only noticed a handful of servants beginning to stir and scramble into their morning duties before she had been led to the throne room. As Ser Arryk stepped aside and allowed her through the doorway, Y/n quickly observed her father sitting high upon the Iron Throne with two other silver-haired individuals standing at the base of the stairs, backs facing her. Y/n quickly recognized her sister, Rhaenyra on the left, hair loosely braided down her back, and her uncle, Daemon, standing on the right, hair cut short and wearing only pants and his nightshirt as if he had been dragged out of bed. Confusion was still evident on her face, but dread had begun to thrive in Y/n's stomach as she slowly drew nearer. Even as she got close to the foot of the stairs leading up the Iron Throne, neither her sister nor her uncle turned to greet her. They kept their backs to her, heads lowered as if afraid to even acknowledge her presence.

Y/n finally looked back up at the King and quickly remembered her manners, bending her knees and bowing her head to Viserys in a graceful curtsy. "Father."

"Listen carefully, daughter. Treason has been committed this past night. Word has reached my ears about a certain child of mine seen with my despicable brother at a brothel in the late hour of the wolf. Unfortunately for us, those who had seen this child could not recall which one. Tell me, what do you know of these events?"

Y/n's eyes widen a fraction, though there is doubt Viserys could see it from his high throne. The princess' heart dropped to her stomach as she replayed her father's words in her head. She turns her attention to the backs of Rhaenyra and Daemon, but neither of them turns to her and Viserys speaks again.

"Do not look to either of them for help, child. I have forbidden them to aid you. You will address me and me alone. You will tell me the truth and only the truth."

Y/n wasn't entirely sure how to feel. Grief and betrayal clenched her stomach in a vice grip... but passionate emotions, such as love and rage were set aflame in her breaking heart. She wanted to scream and cry and demand an explanation. She wanted to burn the truth out of her once devoted sister and her uncle who she loved dearly.

Unfortunately, her loyalty as a sister eventually took over, despite the conflict of emotions running in her mind as she lowered her head to the ground, "... It was me, Your Grace."

"Are you certain, Y/n?" Viserys eyed her suspiciously, "You do not have to defend your sister. This is a vile and unforgivable act as you understand. There is no going back if you choose to claim your guilt and her innocence."

"I am certain, Father," she speaks more boldly, "I would not wish for my sister to be punished for my sins. I would not wish that on anyone I love."

Her words are like stone and ice, piercing Rhaenyra's heart. Guilt ebbs and slides deeper into the older twin's skin, her bottom lip trembling as she comes to terms with what she has done to her sister. Unable to see the torment on Rhaenyra's face, Y/n continues confessing a crime she did not commit.

"I crept away from the castle with Daemon last night... I wanted him to show me true acts of love--"

"Enough," Viserys demands, disgust evident in his tone. His hand grips his sword handle, conflict written all over his eyes. He sits in silence, letting it linger throughout the entire room as his brother and two daughters await their King's justice. Eventually, he sighs, exhausted as he decides to lay down the law as a king instead of a father.

"Then you have forfeited your virtue as a maiden and your reputation as a princess. You must travel to Oldtown and surrender your names and titles to become a woman of faith. You will learn to be a septa under the Faith of the Seven. You will never marry and never carry children."

Y/n's heart completely shatters as the two people who had just betrayed her quickly spoke up in rebuttal, trying to defend her.

"What-- no! No, Father! You can't just--"

"Brother, please think before you send your own child--"

"SILENCE!" Viserys slams the tip of his sword against the step below his throne, his booming, enraged voice echoing across the vast room, "Whether or not Y/n confessed, all three of you are guilty in one way or another for this heinous crime! And this will not leave any of you clean of punishments. Y/n will travel to Oldtown. You, brother, will return to the Vale and finally consummate your marriage to Lady Rhea Royce! And you, Rhaenyra. Your time for choosing a husband is over. Whether you like it or not, you will now marry Ser Laenor Velaryon and the two of us will travel to Driftmark to propose this alliance to my cousin and her husband. Tomorrow morning, we will ALL travel to our respective destinations. Your king demands it."

Knights of the Kingsguard emerge and two surround Y/n, taking her by the arms. She wretches one arm away from them as a thought crossed her mind, "And what of my dragon?" One look from her father and Y/n's face falls, the blood in her veins turning cold in realization, "No... No, Father, please!"

The knights now forcefully grab Y/n, having to fight in order to drag her out of the throne room as she fights back, all the while screaming and sobbing, "You cannot part me from Daenys, please! PLEASE!"

He made them each separately return to their chambers so they could not speak amongst themselves. Two knights guard the door outside Y/n's room but it was questioned whether or not the effort was worth it as the princess didn't appear to have the will to leave her chambers. Y/n had completely shut down, refusing to eat or sleep that evening. She sat quietly on the edge of her bed as a handful of servants came in to pack up her things. The one time she spoke, she had whispered for one of her maids to cut her hair.

At one point, Grand Maester Mellos entered her apartment and gently placed a hot tea in her hands. According to Mushroom, Rhaenyra had also been given a special tea, the fool dwarf implying it to be moon tea. He speculated that despite Y/n's confession, Viserys doubted her tale and to be certain that all memory of this night's events will be erased, he had ordered moon tea to be brought to both of his daughters. Whether or not the princesses drank it was not recorded in history, but Mushroom reported that both of the cups were empty by the following morning, regardless.

Said morning was greeted by pouring rain. Daemon was long gone and Viserys had already taken Rhaenyra to Driftmark by the sea at the time Y/n was brought down to the courtyard. Dressed in traveling clothes and a warm cloak, Y/n held her head high with her newly cut silver hair now sitting just a little past her chin. She climbed into the wheelhouse provided to her and waited for her traveling companion to join her. Before long, Otto Hightower climbed inside as their small company departed from King's Landing. The former Hand had been dismissed by King Viserys and was rumored to be replaced by Lyonel Strong, who had disappeared and was likely traveling with His Grace at the moment.

Y/n thought the travel would be mostly in silence, but Lord Otto proved her wrong as the wheelhouse finally left King's Landing, "I didn't believe it was you."

She kept her eyes focused on the road rolling by outside her window as she spoke, "I'm afraid it no longer matters what you believed to be true, my lord."

"I believe in many things, princess. I believe you have been wrongfully accused and I believe that you and I have something in common."

"And what's that?"

"We're both second-born children without the promise of lands or titles. We have both been banished to Oldtown for what our king believes is a fitting punishment. Perhaps he means well, and perhaps this is for the better... but when it is your own father who carries out the sentence, I can't imagine it feels as though this is all for the better."

Y/n's vision instantly warmed and blurred, her voice beginning to shake as she spoke, "He took my dragon from me. I understand stripping away my Targaryen rights in all but name... but my dragon?"

"He means for you to swear into celibacy under the Faith of the Seven. There isn't a septa in history who owned a dragon. You are no longer a Targaryen in the eyes of the gods, therefore you have no need for a dragon. Your father knew that... but he is not here right now... and perhaps he should have stayed in King's Landing a little longer if he wanted to be sure your dragon was properly chained up."

Y/n finally looked away from the window to stare at Lord Otto with a puzzled expression. To answer her silent question, a loud roar broke through the sky, and Y/n's heart soared with hope. Staring back out the window, her eyes eagerly searched until she caught the shadow of a familiar silhouette. Her precious Daenys was dutifully following her.

Turning back to Lord Otto to bless and thank him, she was met with a small smile and a gentle voice, "Your dragon will keep you safe in the sky and I will keep you safe on the ground. You still have allies, Princess. Remember that."

~~~~~~~~~

And thus it was. Upon arriving in Oldtown, Y/n joined the clergy of the Faith of the Seven as a novice and quickly rose in her ranks to become a septa. It didn't hurt that she had friends in high places, such as the lords and ladies of House Hightower. Y/n was no fool. She understood that Lord Otto was using her as a chess piece, but after he had given her back Daenys, she could have cared less what his motives were. She had a feeling that he had spoken with his brother, the Lord of Oldtown, Hobert Hightower, after she had been sworn into the Faith of the Seven so quickly compared to most septas. It was clear to see that most of House Hightower appreciated or at the very least respected her, so she couldn't complain. Other than the Hightowers and her dragon, the former princess didn't converse with many others. There was a moment when she caught a glimpse of someone who could be none other than her great-uncle, Vaegon Targaryen, son of King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne. If he had recognized her, he didn't show it. In fact, the old man didn't even appear to acknowledge her, let alone acknowledge her as a distant relative.

Other than cordial conversations, Y/n mostly kept to herself, even praying silently instead of verbally. It was clear to most that the princess did not thrive here and even though she has dutifully done everything asked of her, she did not flourish like a true septa. When she wasn't praying or healing, she was flying or reading. Occasionally, she would be summoned to the Hightower to dine with its lords, usually seated beside Lord Otto himself. Even he could see that the child (now technically a young woman) was miserable. A dark shadow passes over her face whenever her royal family is mentioned, but otherwise, she doesn't say a poor word against them. She remains courteous or, at the very least, says exactly what she is meant to say. Otto had spent enough time around Targaryens to recognize that deep, fiery rage within, although Y/n was far better at controlling it compared to her uncle. With that rage was also betrayal and grief. Lord Otto never asked the princess why her heart cries, but he knew, deep down, that it will someday come to light and, hopefully, to his advantage.

That day came years later when a letter arrives from King's Landing. Queen Alicent greets her father before addressing Septa Y/n, inviting her to the capitol in order to become Princess Helaena's septa, who will soon be wed to Prince Aegon. Whatever thoughts were running through her head, Y/n kept them to herself and honorably accepts the invitation. She bid Lord Otto and his family goodbye and her undying gratitude for the hospitality before she climbed up her dragon and flew home.

She descended onto the Dragonpit and was met with a wheelhouse outside, along with a crowd of smallfolk, cheering and welcoming the former princess home. Y/n, dressed in her humble septa robes and hood to dutifully conceal her hair, refused the litter as a means of transportation and instead took to the streets, greeting all who touched her and only smiling when someone addressed her as 'septa'. Her escorts followed at a distance but otherwise didn't disrupt the peace as Septa Y/n carried a toddler on one hip and held another child's hand as she walked the cobblestone streets. It was nearly dusk before she was forced to part from the smallfolk and finally walk through the gates of the Red Keep, her feet blistered but her smile unwavering.

Queen Alicent and her children were there to greet her, and even Y/n was surprised when Alicent welcomed her with open arms. Y/n was reacquainted with her half-siblings and all were quickly reminded of the years growing up when Y/n was completely devoted to them. They remember the twin who loved them and the twin who barely acknowledged their existence. Aegon and Aemond were polite, whilst Helaena smiled and Daeron kissed Septa Y/n's hand. She didn't ask, but Y/n noticed that her father wasn't there to welcome her. That evening, she dined alone with the Queen. She didn't ask, but Alicent could see what her stepdaughter was asking in her eyes and told Y/n that Rhaenyra had moved her family to Dragonstone and would not be returning to court anytime soon. As for Daemon, he had since married Laena Velaryon and their family currently travels around Pentos. Y/n visibly sighed in relief, but she still felt a deep ache in her chest at the mention of those she once loved so dearly. It was clear to Alicent that even after all these years, Y/n still felt the betrayal. Alicent thinks back to the last letter her own father sent her and how Lord Otto wished for her to send an official invite to Oldtown for Y/n to return to King's Landing. Now that she saw the former princess, Alicent understood why her father wanted the young woman back here in court. Y/n clearly was no friend of Rhaenyra.

The day finally came when King Viserys is forced into the same room as Septa Y/n, the day they all gathered to bid Young Daeron farewell as he travels to Oldtown to be fostered by his maternal grandsire's family. Neither father nor daughter acknowledges each other, only speaking to one another when courtesy compels them to, and even then, they only address each other as 'septa' and 'Your Grace'. After that first greeting, they avoid each other as much as possible, the hurt and the betrayal still evident between them.

It was a breath of fresh air for Y/n when the royal family was invited to Driftmark in order to pay their respects to House Velaryon after the death of Lady Laena. The king, queen, their children, the reappointed Lord Hand Otto Hightower and the royal guard had all left, leaving the Red Keep empty. Without the fear of running into her father while he is gone, Y/n roams the palace freely and even takes to the skies when time permits it. Upon the royal family's return, however, so do the dread and horror. Prince Aemond returned with only one eye and Queen Alicent returned with guilt in both of hers.

Scholars tell us of a time when the Queen became devoted to the Seven after shamefully attacking Princess Rhaenyra with a knife in Driftmark. Mushroom said she was so ashamed that she confessed her sins to Rhaenyra's sister, Septa Y/n, the moment she returned to King's Landing. The fool dwarf would have us believe that Y/n forgave the Queen in exchange that Alicent would commit herself to the Faith. The Queen graciously accepted, according to Mushroom, but some sources are not entirely sure if his telling of history is accurate, given that he wasn't in King's Landing at the time.

Nevertheless, only some can be confirmed true. Alicent did indeed confess all of her sins to Y/n as a way to cleanse herself in front of a servant of the gods. She admitted to attacking Princess Rhaenyra in the grief and injustice she felt for the loss of her son's eye. She admitted to conspiring and influencing her sons into believing that Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey Velaryon were all bastards without any proof except physical. Septa Y/n listened patiently and intently, bidding Alicent to rise as a new, true servant to the gods.

Alicent rose, albeit on shaking knees. She gulped back a sob trying to escape her throat, her eyes red and cheeks wet, "How can you have so much faith after everything that's been done to you? How can you pray when the gods have yet to give you the justice you deserve?"

Y/n only smiled, holding the Queen's face in both her hands, as gentle as Alicent remembered her to be when they were children, "I believe the gods will give me my justice in time. I am a patient woman. I still have a whole life of devotion ahead of me. They will grant me my prayers when they believe I deserve it."

A little time passes and Aegon and Helaena were wed. Twins must run in the family and Helaena soon bore a twin son and daughter, Jaehaerys, and Jaehaera. Septa Y/n secretly doted on her niece and nephew and often cared for them more than the wet nurse did. As much as she was overjoyed by them, they also reminded Y/n of the sour fate her father bestowed on her. With no children of her own, Y/n took to Helaena's, who of which had no quarrel with it.

Viserys was also reminded of this punishment, every day when he sees Y/n with the infant twins. Every time, it is a stab to the heart to be reminded of the shame he brought to his own child, a woman who would have loved her own children if her celibate vows allowed her such miracles. Some say the King's health only worsened after the birth of his twin grandchildren, some tales spreading to suggest that the pain he felt whenever he looked at Y/n was the gods' way of punishing him for forsaking his daughter.

His health would never get better, mainly because he would never truly get enough peace in order to heal. Vaemond Velaryon challenged Lucerys Velaryon's right to rule Driftmark should the Sea Snake fall and therefore, a hearing of rivaling families was to take place in King's Landing. Queen Alicent warns Septa Y/n ahead of time that Rhaenyra will be arriving shortly along with her family. Y/n has been preparing herself for the day she and her sister cross paths again, and nothing, time nor god, could prepare her for when she caught a glimpse of Rhaenyra.

For you see, no one told Y/n of Ser Laenor's death and no one told her that Rhaenyra had quickly remarried and it was to none other than Daemon Targaryen. When Y/n saw her sister and uncle again for the first time in years, the healing wounds reopened and Y/n's breath was taken away when she saw silver-haired children and the round shape of her sister's belly. Y/n could feel her heart and throat tighten, the overwhelming sadness threatening to take over. Luckily, she was observing her sister's family as they arrived in the courtyard from a small perch up on the overlooking balcony, so they had not seen her. Once they were out of view, Septa Y/n was able to breathe again and quickly retreated to Helaena's chambers under the false excuse of wanting to see if the princess had finished a book she was studying under her septa sister's guidance.

She had successfully avoided Daemon and Rhaenyra and purposefully did not attend the court hearing in the throne room the next day. She heard whispers about the King making his sickly appearance and Daemon killing Vaemond for the accusations against Rhaenyra and her children's true parentage. Y/n could only scoff, gripping her hands tightly to refrain from rolling her eyes.

Whether or not Daemon truly loved Rhaenyra is up for debate. Perhaps he only married her because she is Viserys' heir and the only way to get close in his brother's line of succession again was through marriage. Y/n wasn't sure what was worse, that her uncle loved her sister, the woman who betrayed her, or her uncle only married her for political schemes. Either way, both her uncle and sister betrayed her in one way or another, and now, for the first time in years, Y/n could see that they have reaped the benefits of their betrayal... and Y/n was left with the scraps.

The thought struck her with anger and jealousy so she decides to lead in prayer in the royal gardens, sitting down once she was alone and closing her eyes, bowing her head to recite a lovely new prayer she read recently.

"Y/n?"

Her eyes shoot open and she staggers to her feet, stunned and panicked when she spun around to notice Rhaenyra standing before her. Her dress was beautiful, radiant, and complimentary to her pregnant stomach, a lovely, long embroidery of a dragon aligning her collarbone.

Y/n's anger peaks and she quickly shuts it down, turning her face into a blank canvas as she respectfully bows her head and evens her voice, "Princess Rhaenyra. You must be relieved to be home again."

Rhaenyra's eyes flashed in confusion before she smiles what only could be out of relief, "I scarcely recognized you... what are you doing here?"

"I have been graciously invited by the Queen to teach and guide Princess Helaena and her children to devote their ways to the intention of the gods."

The monotone in her sister's voice made Rhaenyra pause. The blank expression and the reciting of words only made Y/n appear more... foreign. A puppet with tight strings. "What... what did they do to you?"

Y/n's eyebrows slightly furrow, "They didn't do anything to me, Princess. I have repented and devoted myself to become the image the gods have always envisioned for me."

It was like talking to a stranger and Rhaenyra refused to admit that. Her sister is not dead. Denial would not be her first stage of grieving when her sister is standing right in front of her. Rhaenyra stubbornly pushes through, determined to see a small hint of the girl she once knew. She forced herself to smile brightly, reaching out to grasp Y/n's hands, "Daemon will be relieved to see you again. And the children would love to finally meet you."

Like a spark of flame, Y/n snatched her hands out of Rhaenyra's reach, stepping away as if the princess burned her. To Rhaenyra's horror, the mask had slipped and all she saw in return was fire and blood behind those eyes identical to hers.

The shadow darkens over Y/n's face, voice lower in feigned respect, "Then I shall see them when they come to prayer in the evening."

Rhaenyra froze, unable to move or form words under her sister's glare. They stood that way for some time before a servant girl approached them, innocently unaware of the stand-off as she bows in respect to Rhaenyra before turning to Y/n, "Septa Y/n. Princess Helaena has asked for your presence."

The spell breaks, and suddenly Rhaenyra recognizes the sweet face of her twin, but it was not directed at her. Y/n turned to the servant girl and smiled kindly, "Tell my sweet sister I will be there shortly."

The words burned Rhaenyra, Y/n could tell out of the corner of her eye, and the hurt on her twin's face almost delighted her in some aspect. The dragon has slowly appeared behind her shield of faith, so she tries to cut this meeting short in order to tame it before it did anything rash. Y/n bows her head, "Beg your pardon, Princess Rhaenyra, but I must go."

Unfortunately, Y/n wouldn't be able to avoid her sister's family forever. The King had ordered all of his direct family members to attend dinner together, but for some reason, this dinner excluded Princess Rhaenys and Septa Y/n, the King's own cousin and daughter. However, Otto knew he had the upper hand with Daemon on this and knew when and where to flaunt. So, the Hand waited until the King was too exhausted to dine any further and when Viserys retired to bed, Otto waved his hand and a servant moved to open the door off to the side. Septa Y/n stepped through, hands folded in front of her and she glided into the room, her entrance silencing everyone at the dinner table. Y/n smiled obediently, nodding to the Princess Helaena as she breaks away from her dance with Prince Jacaerys Velaryon.

"The children are sound asleep, as promised."

"Thank you, Y/n," Helaena smiled.

"Won't you drink with us, sweet sister?" Aegon grinned mischievously, raising a goblet to her, "Plenty of wine to go around."

Y/n allowed a smirk to grace her lips, carefully lowering the cup in his hand away from her person, "As I've said time and time again, my prince, it is against my vows. And if you love your sister, you will value her virtue and refrain from drinking yourself to death in her presence."

Aegon's jaw visibly tightened, rolling his eyes but notably setting his goblet down on the table. Y/n beams at her little brother's obedience and only smiles more when Alicent nods to her in thanks.

"So this is what you reverted my niece into during her imprisonment in your ancestral home, Otto?" Daemon's words were poison, to be sure, but he bore no anger or emotion of any kind when staring down the Hand of the King, feigning curiosity, "A meek little servant girl who follows your orders?"

"You will not speak of my sister that way, Uncle," Aemond stood abruptly and easily stood tall beside Y/n, "She is a loving, caring, faithful servant to the gods and we are proud of all her accomplishments."

"I had no idea Lord Otto has been going around believing to be a god," Daemon scowled, leaning back in his chair.

"Lord Otto had always been kind to me and had every intention of keeping my life in Oldtown comfortable," Y/n spoke up, keeping her voice calm and gentle in the presence of Helaena whilst also staring her uncle down, "He ensured that my dragon would be kept with me so that I may feel safe in a foreign place filled with strangers," she spares a glimpse in Otto's direction, smiling when he met her gaze with a measured fondness, "Daenys kept me safe in the sky while Lord Otto kept me safe on the ground."

It appeared forced, but Rhaenyra smiled at the Hand of the King from down the long table of food, regardless, "We thank you for the protection you provided for my sister, Lord Otto. You have shown her such kindness. It's a debt I am not sure we could ever repay."

"It was my pleasure, Princess."

"It better not have been for pleasure," Daemon's eyes darken, trying to scout out the hidden meaning behind the old man's words.

"Daemon--" Rhaenyra warned.

"I will not have my virtue be questioned in front of the Princess Helaena and the Ladies Rhaena and Baela," Y/n sternly interrupted, holding her ground in front of the dinner table, "My virtue has already been questioned enough in your presence, Prince Daemon."

Daemon had the gull to look down in shame for half a second before correcting his posture, straightening up as he reached to grasp Rhaenyra's hand when Y/n's words clearly distressed her. Y/n watched the act, feeling her nose and eyes warm with a wide range of emotions. Her hands tighten again and her throat closes, only allowing a brief whisper towards Queen Alicent to excuse herself from the room. Septa Y/n darted out of the feast and escaped to her chambers, crying her eyes out as everything boiled over like a volcano. She collapsed into her bed and cried herself to utter exhaustion, her eyes swollen and beginning to close.

Sleep would not find her, however, as her chamber doors opened, and in its wake stood Prince Aemond. Septa Y/n wanted to scream at him, to question why he would shame a septa by coming to her room alone when she is vulnerable. Had he no fear of the gods? Instead, she lay in silence and shook from head to toe, trying to regain composure. Aemond moved out of the doorway and Aegon followed him into the room. Eventually, Helaena entered, but she stood awkwardly by the door, holding her arm in the opposite hand. Both of her brothers decided to let Y/n have her space and sat on the furniture surrounding the hearth on the opposite end of the room.

They all bask in the silence, just listening to Y/n's soft cries and the crackling of the fire. Eventually, Y/n was able to control her breathing again, wiping her face clean of tears before she tries using her breaking voice, "Did your mother dismiss you?"

Aegon huffs with mirth, "No, but I doubt we were welcome to stay. Aemond subtly insulted the Velaryon boys and it earned us a toss-up."

Y/n's accusing glare turned to the one-eyed prince watching her from the hearth, his smile unwavering even under scrutiny, "Aemond."

"Forgive me, Septa Y/n."

It was a jest, clearly, and she barked out a laugh, unable to control it. Both of her brothers laugh in response, while Helaena softly smiles. As they all laugh, Alicent emerges from the doorway and beelines for Y/n, gathering her up in her arms, "Oh, my darling girl."

Y/n sniffs, trying not to appear so small, "Forgive me, Your Grace. I was out of line."

"There is nothing to forgive. Daemon was the one in the wrong. That conversation was hardly one to have at dinner."

Y/n felt like a child again, being coddled by the Queen after her emotions got the best of her. Instead of comfort, however, she only felt shame. As a septa, being comforted by those she had been in charge of felt as though she was a failure of a guardian. On the contrary, having the touch of a mother for the first time in years felt... nice. It could not compare to the ghost of her own mother, but Alicent was gentle and squeezed just right for the touch to be secure. Y/n did her best to peek around her room for each of her half-siblings, all three of them smiling warmly at her. For a moment, Y/n felt as though she was a princess again instead of a septa, and perhaps in their eyes, she was. The thought struck her to a point of realization. Perhaps the royal family didn't see her as a septa first. Perhaps they saw her as their sister first and septa second.

Y/n was a proud septa, but just for a moment, she allowed herself to enjoy the comfort and support of the family. Gods be damned.

~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, she woke alone in her room, but she felt lighter than she did yesterday. Rising in the early hour before the sun rose, she got cleaned and dressed before going out to start her morning duties. She didn't get far before she spotted Ser Criston Cole down the hall and the knight saw her in turn. He turned to her, his voice booming in demand, "Septa Y/n, I'd advise you to join Princess Helaena in her chambers and stay there until someone can fetch you."

The order confused her, Criston's stiff posture screaming all signs of wrong to her, but Y/n dutifully obeyed and retreated to her half-sister's apartments. Helaena was already there with the twins and the wet nurse, embroidering what looked to be one of her favorite insects while the nurse and children played on the floor. Y/n joined her on the furniture and read out loud some passages of the Seven-Pointed Star as the morning sun rises further in the sky. Before long, Queen Alicent and Lord Otto storm into the bedroom, demanding the whereabouts of Prince Aegon. No one had seen him, so Lord Otto retreats back outside and Alicent sits and informs the septa and princess that their father was dead.

Helaena pushed away her mother after stating 'there is a beast beneath the boards' while Y/n sat still, face hard of any grieving expression. Her teeth grind together, eyes focused on a spot on the wall as she addressed the Queen, "Has the King's brother and heir been informed?"

"No. They left last night."

She nods. "May I see the body? I would like to pray over the deceased."

"Of course."

Alicent had Ser Criston bring Septa Y/n to the King's chambers. Incense was burning when she arrived, making her way around the large diorama of King's Landing towards the bed. The incense was not strong enough, unfortunately, and Y/n's nose scrunched up when introduced to a vile smell she could only identify as a rotting corpse. She's dealt with death before when tending to the sick in her studies to be a septa, but it's still overwhelming for the senses. Viserys' body was small, frail, already the proper size of a skeleton. There wasn't enough flesh left of her father to decay, the right side of the face already decomposed and skeletal. He had been a walking, rotting corpse for some time now, and at this point, Y/n could no longer remember her father's face from when she was a child. She had only known this limp form for so long.

Lighting seven candles, Y/n says her prayers under her breath, hardly shedding a tear as the Silent Sisters are summoned to properly cleanse and wrap the body. Queen Alicent, now properly dressed in mourning clothes, fits herself beside Y/n as they both stand over the wrapped body, his crown placed on top of it. Alicent wept, but Y/n remained neutral. Once the Queen had composed herself, she turned to Y/n and grasped her hand.

"Y/n, you must listen to me. Last night, before I retired to bed, Viserys spoke to me. He wished for Aegon to be crowned instead of Rhaenyra and therefore we must find my son before we can send word to Dragonstone. We must plan a coronation for Aegon before Rhaenyra has a chance to react. I know she is your sister and you may not believe that Viserys said this to me--"

"I believe you," Y/n interrupted, her words strong and unwavering as she looked up at Alicent with a stone face, "I believe the King would want his firstborn son to be crowned over his daughter. If you fear my response, there is no need. My place is beside your son and his family as the gods have intended. You have my full support for whatever it is you're about to do."

Alicent visibly sighs, smiling out of relief even behind the mournful tears. Squeezing Y/n's hand, she turned back to the corpse of her dead husband, "Would you like Daenys to burn the body?"

"No. Have his rightful heir use Sunfyre. My father once tried to take my dragon from me. I will not do him the honor of being burned by her."

Aegon is eventually found by Aemond and Ser Criston and is immediately brought to his mother before anything else could be done. Alicent attempts to influence her son into not plunging the realm into war with the Blacks, claiming that negotiating terms with Rhaenyra and Daemon first would be the best thing for all of them. Septa Y/n agreed with Alicent, and that seemed to fully convince Aegon after he had been properly cleaned and sobered up. Septa Y/n stood beside Aemond and Helaena in the Dragonpit as Ser Criston crowned Aegon with none other than the Conqueror's crown and sword. Alicent crowned Helaena and bowed before her, addressing her as 'my Queen' before Aegon raised his sword before the masses and they loudly cheered in celebration. Unfortunately, the celebration is cut short when Princess Rhaenys bursts from the floorboards of the Dragonpit with her large, mighty dragon, Meleys, the Red Queen herself. For a moment, it appeared as though the Queen Who Never Was had every intention of putting a stop to all this, having her dragon roar at the royal family before swiftly escaping.

The royal family retreats back to the Red Keep and Aegon sat on top of the Iron Throne. Lords and ladies scurry into the throne room to pledge their allegiance to him, but the most surprising appearance that drew whispers among the court was Septa Y/n herself, having been summoned by the new king.

"Sweet sister, you have done a great service for my queen and our family," Aegon proclaims with a wide grin, "And it would be an honor to have you as an ally more than a servant. I bid to return all land and titles to you, the same titles our father had once unfairly taken from you. In exchange for your loyalty, I would now pronounce you as Princess Y/n Targaryen once more and name you the Princess of Dragonstone until my heir, Prince Jaehaerys, comes of age to inherit our ancestral home, should you accept to carry my banner."

Y/n's heart soared and her face warmed as if a curse had been broken and a veil had been lifted from her eyes. Slowly, gracefully, the once former Septa Y/n bent the knee before the Iron Throne, beaming up at King Aegon with an uplifting smile, "It would be my honor, Your Grace. I, Princess Y/n of the House Targaryen, First of My Name and Princess of Dragonstone, promise to be faithful to King Aegon of House Targaryen, Second of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. I pledge fealty to him and shall defend him against all enemies in good faith and without deceit. I swear this by the old gods and the new."

The day ends with a small feast among the King's family and council. Y/n sat with them not as a septa, but as a princess, having removed her modest robes and hood in exchange for a black dress to symbolize the mourning of her father as courtesy demands. Her hair is kept short below her chin and braided behind her ears so that no one could possibly mistake her for her twin ever again. From this moment on, Y/n was done defending her sister.

~~~~~~~~~

Otto Hightower sailed for Dragonstone with sails bestowing the colors of Aegon's new banner, the original Targaryen sigil but instead of red, the three-headed dragon was colored green. Y/n waited half a day for Lord Otto to reach her ancestral home before following close behind on dragonback, her mighty Daenys fitted back into a beautiful saddle before taking to the sky.

The wind was kind enough for the ship to make it to Dragonstone before Y/n as she spotted the ship docking at one of the piers upon flying overhead of Dragonmont. She could see how far Otto and his company of knights had gotten before being stopped by Rhaenyra, her dragon, and her men at the long, cobblestone stairs stretching far along the island and leading up to the castle. Syrax had purposely landed to block the Greens' only exit, trapping them between her and Daemon as Rhaenyra stood in front of the company. From a distance, Y/n easily recognized her sister's hair and then noticed Daemon's, her rage only brewing. And since she had been released from her vows as a septa, she gladly embraced her emotions instead of stomping them down with prayer. She let Daenys circle the stand-off upon the bridge once, twice, before finally landing behind Daemon's men, now trapping all of them between the two she-dragons. She didn't take the time to bask in everyone's expressions as she quickly descended from her saddle. Her feet hit cobblestones and Y/n slowly made her way through the sea of soldiers belonging to her uncle. They part for her with the looming beast behind her keeping a close watch on them while Y/n makes it to the center, being met by her uncle and sister.

This time, she gladly took in their expressions as they both noticed her riding dress was a dark, green, and black garb with matching riding pants underneath. Rhaenyra's expression was one of horror and disbelief, while Daemon's hardened into something unreadable. Y/n flashed a thin smile as she passed them, moving to stand directly beside Lord Otto. Only then did Y/n take the time to observe the situation. At the sight of Rhaenyra wearing their father's crown, a flash of anger spread through Y/n like wildfire.

"Sister..." Rhaenyra finally spoke, her disbelief still knawing in the back of her mind, "What are you doing here?"

"Assisting in negotiations," Y/n proudly stated, glancing between her sister and Lord Otto, "I assume that the Hand of the King has laid out King Aegon's terms?"

"King--" Rhaenyra's rage flashed before she reeled it back in, taking her time to breathe in deeply before tightly responding, "Aegon is no king to us. You were there, Y/n when our father named me his rightful heir."

"Our father was a fool," the harsh insult slipped easily off Y/n's tongue, lashing out like a viper with a rage Rhaenyra has never seen in her twin before, "Even a king must obey the laws... and the laws of the Great Council state that a male heir must be put first before the female and even a female's sons, regardless of who of which was firstborn. King Jaehaerys was wise in letting his people decide back in 101 AC, and our father was a fool for believing his word outranked the people who made the very decision that handed him the Iron Throne. King Viserys stabbed the realm in the back for going against the laws they had placed to prevent wars. King Viserys started a war by favoring you over his sons and naming you heir."

"You shame your father's memory by betraying your blood to these pretenders!" Daemon accused his niece from over Rhaenyra's shoulder.

Y/n's eyes dart towards him, the man she once wished to devote herself to. Instead of love, however, there was only hate and mockery as she tilt her head at him, "Are you not the brother he looked over in favor of his daughter? I see no other reason why you would marry her other than to finally have your brother's throne for yourself once you slice her pretty neck wide open."

"Y/n, enough," Rhaenyra's voice cracked under the power of her voice, "You don't have to do this."

The smile grows until Y/n shows her fangs, the sneer, and disdain pooling from her eyes as spoke in a harsh whisper, "Because of your crimes and sins against the gods, I was sent away to atone for them. For every step forward you took advantage of, I was two steps behind, taking the blame. The gods test my patience every time you draw breath or every time you bore a bastard son. You shame me, sister," Rhaenyra's face crumbled under the weight of Y/n's words, "And you shame the gods our dragons fly so close to. You can no longer walk over the laws the gods have placed for mortal men. You can no longer abuse the might and power of your station."

"Why are you doing this?" The Queen Pretender whispered breathlessly, a single tear running down her cheek, "Please, give me an honest answer."

"You're a fool if you think I haven't been honest with every ill word I speak of you," Y/n took one step forward and then another until she was close in proximity to Rhaenyra. Both sisters stood still, as did their respective guardians on either end of this battlefield of words. Y/n's eyes dart behind Rhaenyra to closely watch Daemon as she whispered into her sister's ear, "You have taken everything from me the day you followed the man I loved, the one person who ever made me truly happy, into a brothel. Because of you, I was never allowed to start a family of my own. Because of you, I was sent away from home. Because of you, I nearly lost my dragon. Because of you, I will never feel the love our father had that was bestowed on you. Every warmth I have ever felt, you sought to snuff it out to please yourself. You have taken everything from me, sweet sister... and now you will learn to know how that feels."

Better songs have been sung for twins like Ser Arryk and Ser Erryk of House Cargyll, whether they were believed to be true or not. Songs about Rhaenyra and Y/n of House Targaryen, however, were barely sung and were far from beautiful. Scholars and fools alike can agree years after the event that the sisters had parted from each other on Dragonstone as mortal enemies, vowing vengeance and blood for crimes they had committed against one another in girlhood. Men have fought wars for far less, and the twin Targaryen girls had more reason than most to wish their other half dead.

Rhaenyra had extinguished all memory of 'the Realm's Delight' in replace of 'the Black Queen', whilst others called Her Grace more colorful monikers that shamed her very existence, such as 'the Bitch Queen' or 'the Whore of Dragonstone'. None, however, would ring more true than 'King Maegor With Teats'.

Over the years, the People had grown to name Y/n many things. 'Divine Justice' was one of them, 'the Father's Maid' another... and the least popular title was 'the Winged Stranger', the one many would call her during the Dance of Dragons.

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: If you would like to support my writing, please feel free to donate at my new Ko-fi account here! Personal submissions can be done over there as well if you want something written up more to your liking :)

Otherwise, please like and support this blog! Leave and ask or pm for a request!

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Dean Obeidallah at The Dean's Report:

Mike Tyson famously said, "Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face." The idea being that the best laid plans can be crushed by the unexpected—especially if that unexpected is as lethal as a Tyson punch. That is exactly what Democratic leaders need to do to Donald Trump—from a political point of view, that is. Every single day Democratic leaders need to ask themselves: What can we do to punch Trump in the face today?! And every day they need to plan to deliver a punch that will knock Trump off his game and grab headlines. Sure, they won’t succeed every time, but taking the fight to Trump and his anti-American agenda is what the Democratic base is demanding! This is backed up by a rash of articles about rank and file Democrats—plus even some Democratic governors--increasingly frustrated and even angry with Democrats in Congress. Callers to my show have been jamming the phone lines for weeks demanding Democrats be more aggressive, much louder, and far more effective in fighting back against Trump—from flooding the airwaves to blocking what they can in Congress to proposing headline grabbing ideas.

Instead, we see people like Senate Democratic leader Chuck Schumer boringly stand behind a podium in the Senate building where he reads a statement in his typical monotone fashion. This led Jon Stewart on The Daily Show Monday to make a direct to camera plea to Democrats to stop with Schumer as the face of the Democratic Party. Stewart asked, “What is the decision-making process here? ‘Hey, who should we get out there to effectively battle one of the most savvy presidential media manipulators in history?’” Stewart quipped, “Oh, I don’t know, how about Schumer? He’s uninteresting, but at least he’s monotone,” adding, “Oh wait, and Chuck, before you go out there, you look too young! Put on these readers and lower them on your nose. perfect!'”

Stewart could not be more correct. In fact on Tuesday, Schumer held a press conference with House Democratic leader Hakeem Jeffries behind a podium in the Capitol Building. Schumer “slammed” Elon Musk for his attempted takeover of the federal government by awkwardly reading a Musk tweet defending his proposed cuts and then declaring, “Give me a break…Mr. Musk.” When “Give me a break” is your best comeback, you need to sit down! Those comments were followed by Jeffries who pledged to “shortly” introduce the “Stop the Steal Act” to block Musk from accessing private data. (Yes, he’s using the term “stop the steal.”) Jeffries saying he will “shortly” introduce this legislation is the key word meaning that it’s not even drafted yet despite the grave urgency we are told is confronting us. Now, to be fair, there are some great fighters in the Democratic Party. And on both Monday and Tuesday we saw examples of Democratic officials thinking outside of the box in an effort to punch Trump in the face.

On Monday there was a press event—complete with cheering supporters—outside the offices U.S. Agency for International Development in response to “President” Elon Musk seeking to close down the agency. Speakers included Rep. Ilhan Omar who declared, “This is what the beginning of dictatorship looks like when you gut the Constitution, and you install yourself as the sole power.” Omar’s comments so outraged apartheid loving Musk that he shared a doctored video of Omar on Twitter that made it appear like she was calling for immigration laws to be broken. And on Tuesday, more Democratic leaders rallied with an even larger crowd of several hundred outside the U.S. Treasury slamming Musk for having access to our private data. As Rep. Maxwell Frost from Florida told the crowd, "We are here today because an unelected billionaire and his team have been given full and unfettered access to our taxpayer money and our government."

While corporate media barely covered these two events because they are very much pro-Trump, both are a good start—with some clips even going viral on social media. But what is still woefully missing is a unified, powerful message by Democratic members of Congress. There are some Democrats in Congress who want to find “common ground” with Trump while some want to fight him—yet many more are silent waiting to see which way the political winds blow.

This column from Dean Obeidallah is spot-on. Democratic leaders must be aggressive in calling out Tyrant 47 and giving him a metaphorical punch to his face by stealing the headlines from him.

[spidermannotes]

Two Massive DC/Marvel Omnibuses Coming this Summer

Covering around 25 years of DC/Marvel crossovers, the two comic book giants are giving fans young and old the chance to appreciate classic characters together in memorable tales.

Press release:

The vast and varied history of DC versus Marvel returns to print for the first time in decades with two massive volumes collecting the universe-bending comic book crossovers between the greatest characters in pop culture! These fantastic stories, originally co-presented by the two powerhouse comic book publishers, have been highly sought after and hard to find for most readers—but they’re making their return in DC Versus Marvel Omnibus and DC/Marvel: The Amalgam Age Omnibus,both publishing on August 6, 2024.

Who would win: Superman versus Spider-Man? Batman versus Captain America? The X-Men meeting the Teen Titans? DC Versus Marvel Omnibus collects crossovers between the core DC and Marvel characters, from 1976’s Superman vs. the Amazing Spider-Man to 2000’s Batman/Daredevil. Included are stories from some of comics’ most revered talents, namely Dennis O’Neil, George Pérez, Dan Jurgens, Chris Claremont, Walter Simonson, J.M. DeMatteis, Mark Bagley, Gerry Conway, John Romita Jr., and more. DC and Marvel fans alike can’t miss these thrilling pieces of unearthed comic book history!

DC/Marvel: The Amalgam Age Omnibus features stories, first told in 1996, of the two superhero universes fused together into a new Amalgam Universe, combining DC’s and Marvel’s heroes, villains, and mythologies. The result was a series of unforgettable one-shot comic books starring the likes of Dark Claw (Batman and Wolverine), Super Soldier (Superman and Captain America), Iron Lantern (Iron Man and Green Lantern), and many more! These stories, from creators such as Peter David, Dan Jurgens, Mark Waid, Dave Gibbons, Ron Marz, José Luis García-López, Gary Frank, Bill Sienkiewicz, Claudio Castellini, and more, represent one of the most fun and unlikely periods in comic book history, and now are available in one omnibus. Included in this volume are the historic DC Versus Marvel miniseries and its sequels, perfect for fans of both DC and Marvel!

DC Versus Marvel Omnibus collects Batman/Captain America #1, Batman/Daredevil #1, Batman/Punisher: Lake of Fire #1, Batman/Spider-Man #1, Daredevil/Batman #1, DC Special Series #27, Darkseid vs. Galactus: The Hunger #1, Green Lantern/Silver Surfer: Unholy Alliances #1, Incredible Hulk vs. Superman #1, Marvel and DC Present Featuring the Uncanny X-Men and the New Teen Titans #1, Marvel Treasury Edition #28, Punisher/Batman: Deadly Knights #1, Silver Surfer/Superman #1, Spider-Man and Batman #1, Superman vs. the Amazing Spider-Man #1, and Superman/Fantastic Four #1.

DC/Marvel: The Amalgam Age Omnibus collects DC Versus Marvel #1-4, DC/Marvel: All Access #1-4, Unlimited Access #1-4, Bat-Thing #1, Bruce Wayne: Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. #1, Bullets and Bracelets #1, Challengers of the Fantastic #1, Doctor Strangefate #1, Iron Lantern #1, Legends of the Dark Claw #1, Lobo the Duck #1, Speed Demon #1, Spider-Boy #1, Super Soldier #1, Thorion of the New Asgods #1, X-Patrol #1, and more, plus a treasure trove of behind-the-scenes material.

DC Versus Marvel Omnibus (9781779523259) and DC/Marvel: The Amalgam Age Omnibus (9781779523266) will both be published on August 6. The two volumes will each have a direct-market-exclusive cover available only in local comic book shops, while supplies last.

[twistedtalking]

Ellooo

In honor of a recent writing project can I request...

(spins wheel) Kalim

(throws a dart) Epel

Anddd (inserts a coin in a claw machine) Malleus...

How would they react if they were locked in a closet with the reader? (Canon! or optionally romance if you wanna)

"Oops, I guess we have to play 7 minutes in heaven~"

-Nigel

sorry for the wait!

Canon:

Kalim: sure! Come on, let's go to treasury already! Why? For the magic carpet, of course! We can't fly without a carpet. We're gonna play in the skies right? we can't play cards on a broom, silly. Should I bring my drums? Can we bring Jamil? Maybe we should invite Lilia too! And Cater!

(Yuu: slow down, Kalim)

Why? We only have seven minutes, Prefect. We got to hurry if we want to make it on time for the parade.

(Jamil:

Kalim, that's not-

never mind.)

Epel: Game on. "Seven minutes in heaven"? Is that a city game or sumthing?

Ahem. I mean, is that something you play often, Prefect? How exactly do we play?

K-kiss!?

I-I suppose I could do that, 's long as I can take the lead. Try not to smudge my foundation though, else Imma get an earful from Vil.

Malleus:

Seven minutes in heaven? Is that a new past-time for the children of man? I suppose I could give it a try. Go into that enclosed space? Alone? With you?

(Sebek: How dare you try to harm young master-)

*malleus gently pushes Sebek away*

It sounds like a very interesting human tradition. I shall partake in it.

(Sebek: But Waka-sama-

Lilia: quiet, Sebek. this is an event our dear Malleus shouldn't miss.

Silver: Father, what are-

Sebek, shouting and crying: LILIA-SAMA NOOOOO

Lilia, with a guitar: Can't you feel the love tonight~)

Annd he said cast your burdens upon me, those who are heavily laden. Come to me, and I will give you rest

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Divine Emblems: A Book for Boys & Girls (eBook)

by John Bunyan | This is a unique and captivating collection of short poems and meditations, crafted to communicate profound spiritual truths through simple, everyday imagery. Originally titled Temporal Things Spiritualized, this work is a rich treasury of wisdom for children and adults alike, using the familiar to explain the eternal. Each emblem, or poem, is designed to illustrate spiritual lessons by drawing on nature, common activities, and even animals, making it accessible and memorable for young readers while remaining deeply edifying for adults.

Get it HERE

[batmannotes]

Two Massive DC/Marvel Omnibuses Coming this Summer

Covering around 25 years of DC/Marvel crossovers, the two comic book giants are giving fans young and old the chance to appreciate classic characters together in memorable tales.

Here is the official press release:

The vast and varied history of DC versus Marvel returns to print for the first time in decades with two massive volumes collecting the universe-bending comic book crossovers between the greatest characters in pop culture! These fantastic stories, originally co-presented by the two powerhouse comic book publishers, have been highly sought after and hard to find for most readers—but they’re making their return in DC Versus Marvel Omnibus and DC/Marvel: The Amalgam Age Omnibus,both publishing on August 6, 2024.

Who would win: Superman versus Spider-Man? Batman versus Captain America? The X-Men meeting the Teen Titans? DC Versus Marvel Omnibus collects crossovers between the core DC and Marvel characters, from 1976’s Superman vs. the Amazing Spider-Man to 2000’s Batman/Daredevil. Included are stories from some of comics’ most revered talents, namely Dennis O’Neil, George Pérez, Dan Jurgens, Chris Claremont, Walter Simonson, J.M. DeMatteis, Mark Bagley, Gerry Conway, John Romita Jr., and more. DC and Marvel fans alike can’t miss these thrilling pieces of unearthed comic book history!

DC/Marvel: The Amalgam Age Omnibus features stories, first told in 1996, of the two superhero universes fused together into a new Amalgam Universe, combining DC’s and Marvel’s heroes, villains, and mythologies. The result was a series of unforgettable one-shot comic books starring the likes of Dark Claw (Batman and Wolverine), Super Soldier (Superman and Captain America), Iron Lantern (Iron Man and Green Lantern), and many more! These stories, from creators such as Peter David, Dan Jurgens, Mark Waid, Dave Gibbons, Ron Marz, José Luis García-López, Gary Frank, Bill Sienkiewicz, Claudio Castellini, and more, represent one of the most fun and unlikely periods in comic book history, and now are available in one omnibus. Included in this volume are the historic DC Versus Marvel miniseries and its sequels, perfect for fans of both DC and Marvel!

DC Versus Marvel Omnibus collects Batman/Captain America #1, Batman/Daredevil #1, Batman/Punisher: Lake of Fire #1, Batman/Spider-Man #1, Daredevil/Batman #1, DC Special Series #27, Darkseid vs. Galactus: The Hunger #1, Green Lantern/Silver Surfer: Unholy Alliances #1, Incredible Hulk vs. Superman #1, Marvel and DC Present Featuring the Uncanny X-Men and the New Teen Titans #1, Marvel Treasury Edition #28, Punisher/Batman: Deadly Knights #1, Silver Surfer/Superman #1, Spider-Man and Batman #1, Superman vs. the Amazing Spider-Man #1, and Superman/Fantastic Four #1.

DC/Marvel: The Amalgam Age Omnibus collects DC Versus Marvel #1-4, DC/Marvel: All Access #1-4, Unlimited Access #1-4, Bat-Thing #1, Bruce Wayne: Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. #1, Bullets and Bracelets #1, Challengers of the Fantastic #1, Doctor Strangefate #1, Iron Lantern #1, Legends of the Dark Claw #1, Lobo the Duck #1, Speed Demon #1, Spider-Boy #1, Super Soldier #1, Thorion of the New Asgods #1, X-Patrol #1, and more, plus a treasure trove of behind-the-scenes material.

DC Versus Marvel Omnibus (9781779523259) and DC/Marvel: The Amalgam Age Omnibus (9781779523266) will both be published on August 6. The two volumes will each have a direct-market-exclusive cover available only in local comic book shops, while supplies last.