#alexa flame

[taegularities]

The word “lose”

[secondpersonpoetry]

you’ve probably already read it before, but the poem Party by Kim Addonizio really got me tonight. first thought was “oh man. yeah” and then my second thought was “how can i make this about my hockey guys somehow………..”anyway! have a good one! 

oh. oh.

​

[quinloki]

I just saw a clip of Sabo’s return, and it is so incredibly endearing how not only the whole army loves Sabo but how he welcomes all of their approaches with welcoming hands. Why do you think he is so beloved to them? I love Ivan, he is an absolute icon, but he dosen’t have the same aura or reaction Sabo has, why do you think this is?

I mean, Ivan is Ivan XD He's not really comparable to anyone else when it comes to energy and vibes, honestly.

But Sabo - man the newest episode certainly rekindled my love for that character. I love how we got to see the kind of family vibes of the Revolutionary Army. And they were so worried because communications had cut out unexpectedly.

Ah, I can't wait to see MOOOOOOOOORE \lol/

[rattkachuk]

we have a captain :’)

[paulkariyas]

that kreibanejad on ice hug truly just. the sexy romcom kind innit

[daemoncracy]

sometimes a literal angel calls customer service to pretend to be in trouble, hype you up, and call you a genius for interpreting a manual. the numbers prove it!

[witchykuma]

channeled song from dm’s

[bleakfated]

i dont know what to put in a corner of ellen's icons because i feel like the beer bottle is boring >:/

[milkloafy]

I COULD BE YOUR CRUSH — WRIOTHESLEY

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: you gush about your crush to neuvillette over some tea, and your crush unexpectedly joins the tea party and overhears you talking about him. ⋆｡˚ ❀ contents: fluff, fem!reader (use of princess as a petname), sassy neuvi, mentions of ayato ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 1.2k+ ⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: alexa play crush by tessa violet,, LOL i was thinking so hard about the song title then i was like okay yeah these lyrics work ;-; titles are so hard.. anywayyy PLS ENJOY SOME WRIO FLUFF FOR THE SOUL !!

“You just don’t understand, Neuvillette,” you sighed dramatically, stabbing your fork into the delicate cake in front of you. “He’s totally swoon-worthy.”

Neuvillette took a sip of his tea before carefully placing the cup back on its saucer. For a while, he continued to stay silent, as if considering his words.

Once he finally opened his mouth, the only question that came out was a calm, “How so?”

It didn’t take long for a million reasons to pop into your head.

“Well…have you seen his arms?” you gushed. “Is that not enough of a reason in itself?”

Neuvillette scoffed, a smile of amusement playing on his lips.

“That’s not all, of course,” you clarified, grabbing a throw pillow from the sofa next to you and hugging it close to your chest. “He’s also caring and kind and treats everyone with respect, no matter who they are.” 

Neuvillette’s gaze flickered briefly to the door behind you, but you paid it no mind.

“Not to mention how he looks when he gets all serious. Neuvillette, have you ever seen him talk about a prisoner he had to punish? It’s so…” You hid your face behind the pillow, cheeks flaming at the thought.

Before you had a chance to collect yourself, you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You immediately stilled in your seat, slowly bringing the pillow back down to your lap.

“Sorry I’m late. Who are we talking about?”

Neuvillette smiled, ignoring your frantic look directed right at him. “Wriothesley, welcome. You are not too late. Please, take a seat.”

Wriothesley slipped onto the sofa, taking a seat next to you. Neuvillette poured him a cup of tea that he graciously accepted. Looking over at you, Wriothesley brought the drink up to his face and asked, “Care to tell me who you were speaking of before I arrived? It sounded like you were singing their praises.”

You fiddled with the the hem of your silk pajamas— Neuvillette failed to inform you beforehand that a certain someone would be joining the tea party, so you appeared in your regular sleep clothes. You racked your brain trying to come up with a response. 

“Oh, you know… Kamisato Ayato,” you managed, vaguely remembering how you saw his name and face on the cover of The Steambird recently. “The head of the Kamisato clan is such a…dashing and strong leader. I think.” 

“I didn’t realize you were close to Kamisato,” commented Wriothesley, sitting with one leg loosely draped over the other as he leaned back against the sofa.

“Oh,” you shook your head, “no. No, I’ve never even met him.”

Wriothesley raised a singular eyebrow in question. “Your words earlier seemed so strong for something directed at a man you have never met.” 

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant even though your heart threatened to beat our of your chest. “You know how enamored a crush can make someone.” 

“I do,” Wriothesley agreed, his gaze locked onto yours so intensely that you almost had to blink.

“I’m sure you do,” remarked Neuvillette, still sipping his tea.

You and Wriothesley both looked over at him.

Neuvillette blinked. “Did you forget I was here? This is my office, is it not?” When no one responded, he sighed. “Well, I finished the last of my tea and I have some work to wrap up. Feel free to stay as long as you need.”

Neuvillette made his way back to his desk and Wriothesley refocused his attention towards you. 

“So. Kamisato Ayato,” he brought the clan leader up once more.

You choked out a laugh of exasperation. “Are we still on this? Just let me have my silly little crush on someone across the world who doesn’t even know I exist.”

Tapping his fingers against the teacup, Wriothesley huffed. You realized he looked almost annoyed and frustrated.

Just as you were about to ask him what was wrong, Wriothesley opened his mouth and said, “Would it be overbearing of me to say I wish you had said a different name when I asked who you were gushing over?”

A strange mixture of curiosity and hope filled your chest.

Curiosity as to who he thought you were talking about. Hope that maybe he thought it might’ve been him. 

“You could never be overbearing,” you assured, grabbing a small biscuit from the table and softening it up in your warm tea. “Would it be nosy of me to ask who you wished I was gushing over?”

Wriothesley grinned. “You are certainly nosy. But it’s one of the things I like about you.”

You laughed, wiping a crumb off your lip with a napkin. “Does that mean you won’t tell me?”

“Perhaps another day.”

In the distance, you heard Neuvillette clear his throat loudly. You looked over and saw him glaring straight at Wriothesley. They stayed like that for a while, having a silent conversation with their eyes. Whatever it was, it seemed intense. You were quite glad that glare wasn’t directed at you.

“I believe Wriothesley would like to share that information with you now,” Neuvillette announced after Wriothesley looked away with a sigh.

“Does he?”

“I do,” Wriothesley confirmed, the slightest bit begrudgingly. “Me.”

You waited for him to say more, but he didn’t elaborate. 

You blinked. “What about you?” 

“Are you going to make me say it?” Wriothesley let out a strangled laugh, grabbing a biscuit to munch on himself. “When I overheard you and Neuvillette talking about your crush, I was hoping it was about me.”

You blinked. “Why about you?” 

Neuvillette made a strange noise as a book fell off his desk. He cleared his throat. “Pardon me.”

You barely had time to wonder if he was okay before Wriothesley finally responded.

“You really don’t make things easy for me, isn’t that right, princess?” Wriothesley said with a helpless smile. “I hoped you were saying such sweet things about me, since I would say equally sweet things about you.”

With your stomach turning at both the pet name and his admission, you managed to say, “And if I were to tell you it really was about you?”

“That would make me a very happy man,” he said, unable to contain his delight. “Who wouldn’t be happy to hear the most beautiful and caring person they know is interested in them as well?”

You heard Neuvillette tap his foot impatiently in the background, but you ignored him. You and Wriothesley were having a moment here. 

“So, you’re saying you like me, too?” you asked, not wanting there to be any chance of a misunderstanding. The two of you made it this far, you couldn’t let it fall apart now.

“I like you very much,” said Wriothesley with a nod. “And I have something to take care of at the Fortress this week, but when we both have time next week, perhaps we can celebrate with a dinner. Without Neuvillette there.”

“Please, without me there,” Neuvillette chimed in, his arms folded as he sat in his chair.

You laughed, standing up and brushing the imaginary dust off your pajamas. “All right, I can take a hint, Neuvillette. I’ll help you clean up before I go. And Wriothesley…” 

“Hmm?”

You met his gaze and the corners of his eyes crinkled. You fought off a giggle as you returned Wriothesley’s smile, an overwhelming feeling of happiness filling you. “It’s a date.”

[lizzyiii]

Hello, I would like to make an obscene yandere request to Aemond Targaryen for a cousin who is a Helen of Troy, she never met her cousins ​​and Gwayne locked her in the lighthouse because the children in Antigua have already declared duels and fights for her, please

“Alexa play Angel by Massive Attack.”

A Beauty Too Tempting

pairing | aemond x cousin!reader word count | 5.4k summary | when aemond targaryen learns of his cousin—a beauty so captivating that men are willing to die for you—he becomes dangerously obsessed, determined to claim you for himself. tags | 18+ MDNI! smut, p in v, slight dubcon, fingering, oral sex (f) receiving, possessive sex, rough sex, virginity kink, breeding kink, obsession, dirty talk, no description for reader, creampie, religious guilt, guys this was crazzzyyy, yandere aemond, delusional aemond, obsessive aemond. a/n | this was such an interesting and creative prompt, damnnnn. also I think this might be the best smut I've ever written. KEEP BOTH HANDS ON THE PHONE (NOT PROOFREAD)

likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Aemond had finally ascended.

His reckless, wine-soaked brother was a shadow of the past, burnt and broken beyond repair. Though the Seven Kingdoms still called him “Prince Regent,” Aemond knew he held the true power of a king—and wielded the might of a dragon unmatched in all the realm.

He was Prince Regent, yes, but also the rider of Vhagar, the Queen of Dragons, the slayer of Daemon Targaryen, the butcher of his treacherous half-sister and her rabble of bastards.

At God’s Eye, he had cast Daemon down, wresting from him the title of warrior to which he clung so stubbornly. And when Alys Strong’s deceit led him astray, she too had met the edge of his blade, her charms and false promises extinguished in the cold stone of Harrenhal’s dungeons. Now, what was left of his family was but the bones of the house.

Only his mother and his niece remained, the ones bound by duty and blood. Helaena, broken by grief and driven mad with sorrow, had thrown herself from her chamber balcony, finding an end that her shattered mind had long sought. Aegon, the crown’s fool, lay in a stupor of smoke and agony, burned and nearly lifeless after his fall from Moondancer’s flames.

But Aemond ruled now—his alone was the realm’s rightful power. The Seven Kingdoms were his to bend, as was his every desire. He had broken his betrothal to the Baratheon girl without a second thought; a warlord and dragonrider of his stature deserved a bride worthy of his legend. He was the last dragon of House Targaryen, and his queen would be a beauty revered, one whose grace and purity might rival the Maiden herself.

And that was when Aemond first heard of you.

Fleeting whispers had reached him from Oldtown, speaking of his uncle Gwayne’s daughter—a maiden so beautiful that men spoke of you as if you were touched by the gods. Tales claimed you had been cloistered away in the Watchtower’s highest chamber, veiled to protect the eyes and sanity of any man who caught sight of you.

There, concealed behind shadows and stone, you were kept far from the reach of suitors who risked life and honor in duels, each vying for even a single glimpse of your face.

Your father, Ser Gwayne Hightower, had fallen in the fires of the Dance, and your mother had died bearing you, leaving you alone in that desolate tower—an unclaimed jewel, hidden and waiting.

The thought stirred something fierce within Aemond. He would go to you, he decided. He would see this beauty so lauded, this Hightower daughter untouched by the world’s corruptions, and he would decide if you were worthy to become his Queen, his Targaryen bride. For if your beauty proved true, you would belong to him alone, bound by devotion and a loyalty owed only to the dragon and its rider.

After landing Vhagar just outside Oldtown, Aemond took a horse into the city, riding with the air of a conqueror. But even he was taken aback by the scene awaiting him. High walls surrounded the Watchtower of House Hightower, fortified and stern, yet it was the gathering outside that seized his attention.

Hundreds of men crowded the courtyard and spilled into the streets, shouting, some nearly brawling as they jostled against one another. Their voices rose in a fervent cacophony, names and cries echoing like a battle chant.

Aemond’s gaze swept over them with disdain. Fools, all of them, clamoring over the mere hope of being in your presence. As he approached the Tower’s gates, the guards lowered their spears and bowed their heads, recognizing the rider of Vhagar, the One-Eyed Prince who now held the realm in his grip.

They opened the gates without question, allowing him through to the Tower’s base, where a young servant girl waited nervously.

She kept her eyes down as she led him up the spiraling stairway to the highest chamber. But Aemond’s curiosity simmered, and his tone was sharp when he finally spoke. “Who are these men gathered outside? What madness drives them to swarm like starving wolves?”

The servant’s face went pale, but she dared to glance up briefly, voice trembling. “They’re suitors, my prince…men from every corner of the realm. Many have traveled from the Reach and the Riverlands, even as far as Dorne and the North, all to seek my lady’s hand.”

Aemond’s eye narrowed, a dark satisfaction curling at the edge of his lips. While the Dance Of Dragons had gone on, you had become something of a legend—a prize for fools and hopeful knights. But you were not for them.

“Let them scream themselves hoarse,” he murmured coldly, mostly to himself, as they reached the final stretch of the climb. His voice softened, though the weight of his words was fierce. “By nightfall, they will know she belongs to me alone.”

The servant kept her gaze down, fearful of the silent promises in his tone. They finally reached the door to the high chamber, and with a deep breath, she pushed it open, bowing as he strode past her.

As Aemond stepped inside, the air was thick with expectation, and he knew: he would let none of those suitors have you—not while he still breathed.

A figure stood near the narrow window, framed by the dim light filtering through the high stone walls. Draped in a gown as pale as starlight, a delicate veil fell over your hair and face, obscuring your features with an ethereal softness.

You looked less like a woman of flesh and blood, more like some forgotten goddess cast down from the heavens, your beauty hidden behind gauze and shadow. Almost nervously, the servant girl who had led Aemond withdrew, sparing one last, uncertain glance before closing the heavy door, leaving him alone with the lady in white.

The room was silent but for the faint rustle of fabric as the veiled woman turned, your movements graceful yet guarded. You saw him—a tall, imposing figure shrouded in the black and crimson of House Targaryen, his silver hair gleaming like the steel at his hip.

Though your vision was blurred by the veil, there was no mistaking him. Even in the isolated walls of your tower, you had heard tales of him, whispered rumors that crept into your dreams. Aemond Targaryen—the One-Eyed Kinslayer, the dragonrider who had torn through his own blood, leaving most of House Targaryen ashes in his wake.

A shiver coursed through you as you lowered your head, barely daring to meet his single, penetrating gaze. You bent your head respectfully and murmured, “Your grace.”

At the sound of your voice—soft and lilting, as if it had drifted down from the heavens—Aemond’s breath hitched, and he paused, his gaze never wavering. You sounded like the very embodiment of the myths that had reached him, a voice so pure it defied the violence that had carved his path to you.

He took slow, deliberate steps toward you, each one bringing him closer to the veiled creature he had come to claim. “I am not only your Prince Regent,” he said, his voice low, almost reverent. “I am your kin as well.”

You nodded, your lashes fluttering beneath the veil. “Of course…cousin,” you replied shyly, your voice no more than a murmur, though it reached him clearly in the silence of the chamber.

Aemond’s lips curved, a hint of satisfaction flickering across his face as he closed the distance between you. “You must know,” he continued, his tone possessive yet calm, “that I have not come all this way merely out of kinship. You are spoken of as if you were a queen in waiting…your beauty, your grace. Men would kill for a single look upon your face.”

Your cheeks warmed beneath the veil, though you dared not lift your head. The idea of such fierce, consuming attention unsettled you, yet you could not deny the pull he exerted on your senses—a dark, magnetic power that seemed to draw you closer, even as your instinct told you to step back.

“And now,” Aemond murmured, lifting a hand toward you, fingers ghosting over the edge of your veil, “it is I who have come to see if these tales hold truth. To decide if you are worthy…to stand beside me as my queen.” He let the words hang in the air, laden with meaning, with possession.

Beneath the veil, your lips parted, your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The One-Eyed Prince had not come to court or woo you like the other men clamoring below; he had come to claim you, with a certainty that brooked no refusal.

“Tell me, cousin,” he whispered, his tone heavy with dark intent, a veiled promise lying beneath each word. “Would you defy me if I named you mine?”

He drew closer, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a shiver through you as your heart hammered against your ribs. The weight of his claim felt as tangible as the stone walls around you, and in that instant, you knew defiance was a luxury that held no place here.

Before you could gather the breath to respond, Aemond’s hand rose toward your veil, his fingertips hovering just above its delicate fabric. A sense of desperation seized you, and your voice broke through the silence, raw and pleading. “Don’t! Please… I only wish to spare you.”

Aemond’s lips curved in a faint, humorless chuckle, his eye gleaming with something far more dangerous than mere amusement. “Spare me?” he murmured, as though the very idea amused him.

“You misunderstand, cousin. I do not seek to be saved.” His voice softened, yet the iron in his tone was unmistakable. “I seek only to behold my future wife.”

Your heart raced, every instinct urging you to step back, but your body seemed to betray you, rooted to the spot as Aemond reached out, his fingers grazing the edge of your veil. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted it, casting the thin fabric away and laying bare the face that had haunted his imagination.

The moment the veil fell, silence claimed the room, broken only by Aemond’s sharp intake of breath. His gaze devoured each feature of your face, sweeping over you with an intensity that bordered on reverence, as if he were drinking in the sight of a rare and coveted treasure.

He exhaled slowly, a low growl rumbling in his chest as his fingers traced a line along your cheek, his touch both possessive and tender. “Beautiful…” he breathed, his voice thick with awe and something deeper, something darker. “Far more than any tale could capture. You are… a vision.”

A flicker of fear mingled with the warmth on your cheeks, and you dared to lift your gaze to his, the intensity of his stare almost unbearable. He studied you, and you sensed it was not mere admiration that darkened his eye, but hunger—a need so consuming it seemed to radiate from him.

“From this day forward,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the line of your jaw, “you are mine. And I… I will allow no one, not even the gods, to take you from me.”

Your breath caught as Aemond’s fingers ghosted over your skin, sparking a fire that seemed to radiate through every inch of you. For a fleeting moment, your eyelids fluttered closed, helplessly savoring the sensation. But reality, sharp and undeniable, tore them open again, reminding you where you stood—and with whom.

“C-Cousin, please…” you murmured, your voice trembling as your hands pressed against the hard plane of his chest, a fragile attempt to create space. “This… this cannot be. You should not…”

The words stumbled from your lips, half-hearted at best, even as your body betrayed you, arching subtly toward him, drawn like steel to a magnet. A flush of warmth rose beneath your skin, pooling in your cheeks, and beneath the thin fabric of your gown, your nipples peaked, aching under his gaze. The rush of sensations nearly overwhelmed you, each one more intoxicating than the last.

Aemond’s lips curved in a knowing, wicked smile, his eye gleaming as he took in your struggle, your futile attempts at resistance. He leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours, so close that his breath mingled with yours, warm and heady.

“Wrong?” he murmured, his voice a dark, velvet caress, each syllable dripping with unrestrained desire. “There is no wrong between us, cousin. Only what was always meant to be…only fate and desire.”

Your heart raced, pounding against his chest, each beat echoing the dangerous thrill of his words. His hand slipped to the nape of your neck, his touch firm and possessive, as though he could bind you to him with that single gesture. He tilted your head ever so slightly, his mouth hovering just above yours, his gaze burning with intent.

“We are bound by blood,” he whispered, his words low and fervent, “by something far stronger than any foolish notion of right or wrong.” His lips brushed the corner of your mouth, a featherlight touch that set your skin alight. “Do you not feel it, the way I do?”

You barely managed a nod, your mind clouded by the closeness, by the undeniable pull of him. With a fluid, almost predatory grace, Aemond’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you firmly against him, so close you could feel every contour of his lean frame pressing into yours.

His chest was a wall of heat, solid beneath your touch, and your breath hitched as you became all too aware of the hardness pressing insistently against your belly.

“Let me guide you,” he whispered, his mouth brushing the shell of your ear, his breath warm and laced with promise, “to pleasures beyond the realm of mortal imagination.” His voice was low, dark, each word dripping with seduction as he continued, “Yield to me, and I shall make you mine in ways the world could scarcely comprehend.”

Every syllable curled around you, dissolving your remaining resistance like morning mist. Against all sense, your body softened, your resolve unraveling beneath his spell. Aemond’s words, woven with desire and power, coaxed you toward surrender. You melted against him, instinctively seeking the warmth he offered, your heart racing as his grip on you tightened possessively.

“Cousin…” you whispered, barely a breath, a mingling of plea and prayer.

Aemond’s lips curved, and he let out a soft, almost condescending click of his tongue, a smirk flickering in his eye. “I ask for so little,” he said, his tone deceptively light before his voice softened, becoming tender, almost reverent.

“Simply allow me to reign over you, to be the master of your heart and soul. Give me your loyalty, your love, your fear… let me own you in spirit and in flesh. Do that,” he murmured, his mouth grazing your jawline, “and I will serve you, worship you, slave to your every desire.”

A tremor ran through you as his hand drifted lower, fingers grazing the swell of your breast. Your nipple pebbled instantly, a jolt of pleasure-pain shooting straight to your core. You gasped, your hips involuntarily rolling against his straining erection.

“Please... ” you whimpered, your resistance breaking in the face of such carnal temptation. ”I-I am a maiden, a child of the Seven.”

A low chuckle rumbled in Aemond's chest as he felt your delicate form yield to his touch, your body betraying its innate desire despite your protests. His fingers curled around the plump mound of your breast, kneading the soft flesh through the thin fabric of your gown.

“Child no longer,” he rasped, his thumb circling your aching nipple, coaxing it to an even harder peak. ”Maidenhood ends today, and a woman shall be born.”

With a swift tug, he ripped the laces of the front of your gown, exposing the swells of your breasts to his hungry gaze. He palmed them roughly, thumbs teasing the stiff peaks as he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss, plundering the sweetness within with his tongue.

"Mine," he growled against your lips, his hands roaming your body possessively

Your cry of shock morphed into a moan of ecstasy as Aemond's mouth ravaged yours, his dominant presence swallowing your very essence. The rough handling of your breasts sent sparks of delight coursing through your veins, your nipples throbbing in time with the pounding of your heart.

"No...no," you breathed against his lips, the words tumbling out unbidden. "This is wrong... this is sinful."

Ignoring your feeble protests, Aemond continued to explore your body with unrestrained lust. His hands roamed freely over your curves, tracing the contours of your body with a reverence usually reserved for sacred texts.

“Sinful indeed,” his voice was a husky purr against your lips. “Yet how sweetly addictive it tastes.”

His hands trailed lower, bunching your skirts to your waist to find the damp curls at the apex of your thighs. He groaned at the wetness he found there, a testament to your body's readiness for him.

“Such a delectable little cunt...” he whispered, his fingers slipping between your folds to test your readiness.

Your head fell back, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat as Aemond's skilled fingers delved deeper, stroking your slickened flesh with a confident touch. A shudder rippled through you, your hips canting upwards in desperate pursuit of more.

“P-please...” you gasped, your voice trembling with devastation. “I...I've never...”

Aemond's knowing smirk only heightened your mortification, yet it couldn't quell the inferno building inside you. Your body was aflame, craving the release only he could provide.

“I'm afraid...” you murmured though your eyes were glazed with desire.

Aemond's eye gleamed with triumph as he watched you squirm under his touch, your innocence and inexperience only fueling his desire. He pressed a finger inside you, feeling your tight walls clench around the invading digit.

“Fear not, sweet cousin,” he cooed, his voice dripping with false reassurance. “I will be gentle... at first.”

He pumped his finger slowly, savoring the exquisite sensation of your virgin passage yielding to his touch. His thumb circled your pearl, applying just enough pressure to send jolts of pleasure racing through your nerves.

“You're doing wonderfully,” he praised, his free hand sliding up your thigh to grip your hip firmly. “Now, let's see if we can't coax out that pretty little scream, hmm?”

Your mind reeled, struggling to comprehend the onslaught of sensations assaulting your senses. Aemond's fingers moved within you with a practiced ease, each thrust and twist sending waves of pleasure crashing over you.

“N-no...stop!” you managed to choke out, even as your body betrayed you, arching into his touch. “It's too much!”

Aemond's grin widened, his eye flashing with dark amusement at your futile attempts to resist. He withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and aching for more.

“Foolish girl,” he chided, his tone dripping with condescension. ”You crave this, every bit of it. Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind doesn't.”

He seized your wrists, pinning them above your head against the window as he loomed over you, his face inches from yours. His hot breath fanned across your cheeks, carrying the scent of smoke and masculine musk.

“Now, be a good little maiden and spread your legs for me,” he commanded, his voice low and commanding. “Let me taste you.”

Your chest heaved with ragged breaths, your body thrumming with a mix of fear and exhilaration as Aemond's dominance asserted itself. Despite your reservations, a traitorous part of you yearned for the promised pleasure, your core clenching in anticipation.

"N-no...I won't...” you stammered, even as your thighs trembled, betraying your resolve. Aemond's grip on your wrists tightened, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he forced you to submit.

“Please...” the word escaped your lips before you could stop it, a plea for mercy that sounded suspiciously like a plea for more, though confusion filled you, ”Why would you wish to taste me?”

Aemond's gaze raked over your trembling form, drinking in every quiver and gasp with sadistic delight. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke, his words dripping with dark promise.

"Because, my dear cousin," he purred, "I want to devour every inch of you until you forget your own name. Until all you know is my touch, my taste, my possession."

With a wicked grin, he released your wrists, only to grab your waist and throw you down upon your bed. You had no time to react before he settled between your legs, his shoulders pushing your thighs apart as he lowered his head, his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh.

Your heart raced, pounding in your ears as Aemond's words painted a vivid picture of degradation and desire. You felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly at his mercy as he positioned himself between your spread thighs.

“And then, once I've had my fill,” he continued, his tongue darting out to trace the seam of your slit, “I'll make you beg for more.”

“No...please...” your protests dissolved into a whimper as his tongue made contact with your aching sex, the wet heat of it sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Aemond chuckled darkly at your feeble attempts to resist, the vibrations of his laughter sending shivers through your core. He increased the pressure of his tongue, lapping at your slick folds with relish, savoring the taste of your arousal.

“It's too much...I c-can't take it...” even as you spoke, your hips bucked upward, seeking more of that intoxicating sensation. Your hands flew to his head, tangling in his hair as you tried to pull him closer, to grind yourself against his questing mouth.

“You lie, sweet cousin,” he murmured against your flesh, his voice muffled but unmistakable. “You crave this, crave me. Your body sings for me, begs for my touch.”

He sucked gently on your pearl, the suction pulling a sharp cry from your lips. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place as he feasted on your cunt, his skillful tongue driving you closer to the edge with each passing moment.

“Release for me,” he commanded, his eye locking onto yours, burning with an intense, possessive hunger. “Let go and give me everything.”

Your entire being was consumed by the inferno of pleasure that Aemond ignited within you. His words, his touch, his very presence overwhelmed your senses until nothing existed beyond the coil of ecstasy winding tighter and tighter in your core.

“Ahh...oh gods...Aemond!” your cries echoed off the stone walls as you said his name for the first time and he pushed you relentlessly towards your peak. Your back arched off the bed, your nails raking down his scalp as you held him close, grinding shamelessly against his face.

“Yes...yes! Don't stop...please don't stop...” you babbled incoherently, lost to the maelstrom of sensation. And then, with a final flick of his tongue, you shattered, your release ripping through you with the force of a tidal wave.

As your climax crashed over you, Aemond drank in your essence, reveling in the taste of your release. He lapped at your spasming cunt, prolonging your pleasure until you finally went limp beneath him, panting and dazed.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction as he gazed up at your flushed face. He crawled up your body, claiming your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to plunder the sweetness of your mouth.

“Now, let us see how well you respond to other pleasures,” he murmured against your lips, his hand sliding down to cup your breast, thumbing your nipple into a stiff peak. “We have only just begun to explore the depths of your devotion.”

Your mind reeled, struggling to process the intensity of what had just transpired. Aemond's control over your body was absolute, leaving you weak and pliant in his grasp. Yet even as you trembled with aftershocks of pleasure, a thrill of anticipation coursed through you at his words.

“Other pleasure?” you managed to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. Despite the fear that lingered, a spark of curiosity ignited within you, drawing you deeper into the unknown realm Aemond promised to show you.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your breasts heaving with each ragged breath as he fondled them. The sensation of his calloused palm against your tender flesh sent jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core, making you ache for more.

Aemond's smile was a wicked curve of his lips as he watched your reaction, delighting in the way your body responded to his touch.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I speak of the exquisite agonies of pleasure, cousin. The kind that make you scream and beg for mercy even as you crave more. The sort that leave you trembling and spent, yet yearning for the next touch, the next thrust...”

His hand slid lower, fingers tracing the juncture of your thighs before dipping into your drenched folds. He circled your sensitive pearl, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

“Shall I show you these delights, Beloved? Shall I push you to the very brink of madness and back again, all for my own entertainment?”

A shiver ran down your spine at Aemond's words, a delicious chill that mixed with the heat building inside you. His touch was both gentle and ruthless, coaxing out responses you didn't know you possessed. Your hips bucked involuntarily as he stroked your most intimate places, seeking more friction and relief.

“Y-yes please...” you breathed, the word torn from you on a moan. Your hands came up to tangle in his long silver hair, holding him close as if to anchor yourself against the storm of sensations he unleashed.

Aemond's fingers danced across your sensitive flesh, pushing you higher and higher until you teetered on the edge of another release. Your vision blurred, your lungs burned for air, and still he teased, denying you the release you craved.

“Please...I need more,” you whined.

Aemond chuckled low in his throat, the sound sending vibrations through your quivering form. He released your pearl, his fingers trailing up your inner thigh before gripping your hip possessively.

“More, hmm?”

He leaned back, his piercing gaze drinking in every flush of color on your skin, every hitch of your breath. “Very well, cousin. Let us see how you fare against my cock.”

With a swift motion, he shed his trousers, freeing his rigid length. It stood proud and unyielding, the tip already glistening with pearly wetness. Aemond grasped your ankles, spreading your legs wide as he positioned himself between them.

Your eyes widened as Aemond revealed his manhood, the sight of it making your mouth go dry. The size and shape were intimidating, but a part of you thrilled at the prospect of being stretched so completely. You nodded, unable to find your voice as he spread your legs wider, exposing you fully to his hungry gaze.

“Are you ready to be filled, to be claimed in the most primal way possible?” He asked, his voice a husky growl.

"Yes...” you managed to whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

Aemond's grip on your ankles tightened as he aligned himself with your entrance. The head of his cock pressed against your slick folds, and you could feel the heat radiating off him. You bit your lip, bracing yourself for the intrusion.

“Please don't hurt me,” you whispered, your voice tinged with desperation.

Aemond's expression softened slightly at your plea, though the intent in his eye remained unchanged - a fierce, almost feral hunger. He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured, “I would never harm you, sweetling," he paused, "at least not unless you begged me to."

With that, he surged forward, his thick cock driving into your welcoming heat in one powerful stroke. Your cry echoed through the chamber as you were split open around him, your body stretching to accommodate his impressive girth.

“Fuck, you're tight,” he groaned, pausing for a moment to let her adjust. His hips flexed, pulling nearly all the way out before plunging back in, setting a relentless pace. So fucking perfect...

A sharp cry tore from your throat as Aemond's massive cock impaled you, the sudden invasion sending shockwaves of pleasure-pain through your core. You arched your back, nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move within you, each thrust driving deeper and harder than the last.

"Gods...it's too much..." you panted, struggling to breathe through the intensity of the sensation. “You're so big...”

Despite the discomfort, your body seemed to mold itself to his, craving the stretch and fullness he provided. Your inner walls clenched around him, trying to draw him in even further.

“More...give me more...” you whimpered, your hips rising to meet his punishing rhythm.

Aemond grunted in satisfaction at your wanton pleas, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. The obscene slap of skin against skin filled the room, punctuated by your keening cries.

“That's it, take it all,” he growled, his hand fisting in your hair as he angled your head back. “Scream for me, let everyone hear how thoroughly I'm claiming you.”

His free hand slid between your joined bodies, finding your swollen pearl and rubbing mercilessly. The dual stimulation had you writhing beneath him, your body wound tighter than a bowstring.

"Come for me, Beloved,” Aemond demanded, his voice rough with lust. “Come on my cock like the desperate little maiden you are.”

The words fell from Aemond's lips like honeyed poison, stoking the flames of your desire until they consumed you whole. Your release crashed over you like a tidal wave, your vision blurring at the edges as ecstasy coursed through your veins.

“Yes! Oh gods, yes!” you screamed, your voice echoing off the stone walls.

Your inner muscles spasmed wildly around Aemond's pistoning cock, milking him for all he was worth. The pressure building at the base of your spine reached a fever pitch before exploding outward in a burst of pure bliss.

“Aemond!” your name was a ragged gasp as you convulsed beneath him, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you.

Aemond threw his head back with a triumphant roar as your orgasm triggered his own. His cock pulsed inside you, spilling his hot seed deep into your clencing cunt. Each jet seemed to last an eternity, marking you as his in the most primal way possible.

“Take it all,” he snarled, grinding his pelvis against yours to ensure every drop was absorbed by your eager flesh. “You're mine now, forever and always.”

As the final spurts subsided, Aemond collapsed onto you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily as he savored the aftermath of their coupling.

When Aemond's release flooded your womb, you felt a sense of profound completion wash over you. Your body went limp beneath him, utterly spent yet deeply satisfied.

“Yours...” you echoed softly, the word falling from your kiss-swollen lips in a daze. “Forever and always...”

As exhaustion tugged at you, your limbs grew heavy, and the events of the day settled over you like a warm, thick blanket. Nestled in Aemond’s arms, you felt a strange comfort, a warmth you’d scarcely known, drawing you closer into his embrace as sleep beckoned. The solid strength of him, the steady rhythm of his breathing—it was all that held you tethered as your eyes drifted shut.

“Rest now, my love,” he murmured, his voice a low, satisfied rasp, laced with a possessiveness that left no doubt of his intentions. “We have much to discuss when you’ve recovered.”

Even as you slipped into the gentle embrace of sleep, Aemond remained vigilant, his gaze never leaving you. His mind churned with plans and possibilities, already anticipating the obstacles that lay ahead. He knew that securing his claim upon you—upon both of you—would not come easily.

His arm tightened around you, a silent vow to protect, to possess, to keep you from any force that might try to tear you from him. Whatever it took, no matter the cost, you would remain his. He would allow no other fate.

A faint, triumphant smile touched his lips as he studied your sleeping face, taking in the softness of your features, the way your hair curled against your cheek. Tonight, he would let himself bask in the satisfaction of knowing you were his, that he had claimed your body and heart as surely as he had marked it.

“Sleep well, my queen,” he whispered, reaching out to brush a stray curl from your brow with uncharacteristic gentleness. His thumb lingered a moment, tracing the curve of your cheek, committing every detail to memory.

“Tomorrow, I take you to your new home.”

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!

[freyaphoria]

now im curious what yandere hongjoong does for a living hehe also joong gifted hwa legos for his good behavior right? could you write something like yn being jealous bcs joong gifted hwa present and nothing for you?

Alexa, play Will you be my 벗? (8:09 sec) by Ateez -> Wooyoung: bimil~

I'm kidding, but since I'm thinking of writing the fic in series, I want it to be a surprise loll. But it's a job that suits his yandere character very well, you can guess it, right?

And I would like to express my love and gratitude to my dear @matzrionette for helping me find a title🩷

Jealousy Left Unwrapped

tw: jealousy!, yandere hongjoong, yan!seongjoong x reader

wc: 1540

taglist: @aim-blossom

"Why do you look so sad?" You swear he's doing it on purpose. He does it knowingly to make you jealous and drive you crazy. It doesn't take a genius to understand why you're upset.

"I am not." replied briefly and harshly. Your eyes were also on Seonghwa, who opened the gift package with excitement. "What's that tone of voice? Know your place." Your eye muscles had developed from rolling your eyes at Hongjoong during your stay here. After rolling your eyes at him, you were still hoping that he would give you a gift, too. After all, you were just as good as Hwa, okay you still didn't like Hongjoong but at least you tolerated him. Even this should have been rewarded.

"Joongie! You bought the set I wanted the most! Thank you so much!" Having finished unpacking, Seonghwa jumped on Hongjoong and hugged his neck. Your stomach dropped when Hongjoong said something to him like it was no big deal and kissed his cheek. For a moment, you thought that if Hongjoong was going to expect the same performance from you when he gave you a gift, you'd rather he didn't give a gift at all.

But then you thought again why he bought a gift for him and not for you. Why didn't he buy you anything? You've been behaving really well lately. You didn't try to escape, you were finishing your meals. Sometimes when Hongjoong hugged you, you didn't try to escape from his arms. You even wished him good night yesterday. Why didn't he buy you anything?

Was this jealousy? No way. You weren't crazy enough to be jealous that the man who kidnapped you was buying a gift for his other victim, who was just as crazy as himself, but not buying one for you.

Yes, you agreed. You were jealous. But how can you not be jealous? Hongjoong already had a favorite. His favorite of course, was Hwa, either because they spent more time together, or because he found Hwa and formed a bond with him at the peak of his sick impulses, or because he was a hundred times more loyal to Hongjoong than you. Yes, he loved you obsessively too, but look, he bought the gift for Seonghwa, not you.

Seonghwa looked at you as jealousy flared in your heart, forming a bigger and bigger ball. "Angel look, now we have a set to do together!" He looked very happy. And the fact that he included you in his gift made you feel ashamed of your jealous thoughts. But the problem wasn't Seonghwa, it was Hongjoong.

Of course, Hongjoong knew what he was doing. From time to time, in order to keep your relationship strong, he would give more attention to one of you than the other and ignore the other. This was one of his favorite manipulation tactics. The person who is ignored subconsciously thinks, "I must be as good as them, what can I do to make him love me as much?" he loved injecting this thoughts and seeing the flames of jealousy in both of your eyes. And he would definitely win. When he used this tactic on you, for a few days, without realizing it, you would act closer to Hongjoong, do whatever he said like a puppet, and try to win his love. Of course, you wouldn't do this consciously, but being the favorite person of the person who held power in his hands and the gifts or freedoms he showed you was very tempting.

After fake smiling at Seonghwa, you stood up. "I'm going to my room." As you turned around and went to your room, you heard Seonghwa say 'we were going to start this together, where are you going?' even though you heard his whining, Seonghwa was the last person you wanted to see right now.

You knew what you were doing was childish, but you couldn't help it. While jealousy was flowing through your veins, you were startled by the gentle knock on the room door. You knew it was Hwa, the only kind person here, who knocked your room.

"Did something happen?" You shook your head without looking at his face. Just as he was about to open his mouth again and say something, he closed his mouth when he heard Hongjoong's voice calling him from downstairs. "I'll start preparing dinner, if you want, you can watch TV with Hongjoong while I prepare it. I'll get his permission for you." It was starting to make you sick to your stomach at how nice he was to you. You sometimes wished he could treat you as cruelly and harshly as Hongjoong. This way, there would be nothing binding you here and you wouldn't start getting used to here. But sometimes, you wondered what would happen to Seonghwa if you managed to escape. You wouldn't forgive yourself if you couldn't save him from here and if his Hongjoong-like behavior progressed and he completely turned into Hongjoong.

"No need." You said without looking at him again. Seonghwa thought it would be better to close the door and leave you alone.

Dinner time also passed in silence. Since you didn't look at Seonghwa's face, you didn't see the new star necklace he had around his neck. Did he always have that necklace? No. You noticed it when it swayed as he took your empty plate, catching your eye with its metal reflection. "Since when did you have that necklace?" Hongjoong smiled at you subtly, as if expecting this question. "Ah, Hongjoong got this too. He gave it to me after you left. Beautiful, isn't it?" He told you with a big smile and playing with the star in his hand. He never meant to make you jealous, he was just very excited and wanted to show it off to the world. It was truly a great achievement and honor to receive a gift from Hongjoong.

Hongjoong saw the flaring jealousy in your eyes as you stood up from the table, and grabbed your arm before you could get too far. "What, you don't like it?" He was smiling at you so annoyingly that if he hadn't held your right hand, you would have tried to punch him. Unfortunately, you couldn't give the effect you wanted with your left hand. Maybe he was waiting for you to explode and punish you for it. You didn't know.

But you weren't going to give him what he wanted, he wasn't going to get that reaction from you. You put on a fake smile as you tried to pull your arm away from him. "I like it! It's beautiful! I loved it! It couldn't have been more beautiful!" You hated it when your emotions showed in your tone of voice. If you were stronger, could you stand up to him? "That tone of voice... Is it jealousy?" When he said it with a giggle, you felt yourself blushing from your ears to your cheeks. "Haha! Why are you jealous? After all, you hate this place and me, and it shouldn't matter if I buy him a gift and not you, right?" Ah, he's started again. Even if you denied it, he would continue this psychological torture until you agreed, so you would admit that you were jealous because you wanted it to end as soon as possible without tiring your brain any further. And also, yes, you were jealous.

"Yes, I'm jealous! So what?!" Seonghwa was watching you with wide eyes. Sometimes he was jealous of you too, but it wasn't because of the gifts Hongjoong bought you, it was because of the attention he gave you and didn't give him. "May I know why you're jealous, princess?" He knew why, but he enjoyed humiliating you this way. "Because... Because I've been so g-good lately too! Okay, even though I wasn't as good as Hwa, but I was s-still good! Why didn't you reward me too?" You cursed under your breath at your trembling and stuttering state. When he didn't say anything and looked at you, he looked at you for a long time, you felt uncomfortable and squirmed in your place. "Angel, we can do the lego set together-" "Seonghwa, shut up. Princess, if you were as obedient and loyal as Seonghwa, I would buy it for you too. But you still don't hug and kiss me of your own accord, it hurts my dignity." He looked at you and opened his arms a little, as if he expected you to jump into his lap, hug and kiss him right now. Even though you were jealous of the opportunities he offered Seonghwa, you were never going to give him what he wanted. You didn't move and looked at his arms for a while. Thinking you were hesitating, he said "Come here." to encourage you.

"In your dreams." You pulled your arm away from him harshly and headed back upstairs. "Then I won't buy you anything again!" His voice coming from downstairs got on your nerves. "You're not buying me anything anyway!" You shouted at him with the same tone of voice. Before slamming the door, you heard that Hongjoong mumbled something to Seonghwa about him banning you from watching TV for a week.

a/n: Again me and again yandere matz... Please keep sending me requests about yandere matz. I'm dying for them! Also, my next fic will be yandere yunho and lots of chaos! (I received the request you sent me but please give me some time to write it, dear anon♡♡)

[opalblade]

06 JUNE 24.

𓂀 ASTRO OBSERVATIONS .

☆ TROPICAL.

- DAY AND NIGHT CHARTS ARE A NICE DETAIL TO TAKE NOTE OF WHEN READING CHARTS

day charts: sun is in 7h-12h -> sun is better, jupiter is the stronger benefic, saturn is not as malefic.

night charts: sun from 1h-6h -> moon is better, venus is the stronger benefic, mars is not as malefic.

- THE MC IS THE HEIGHT OF THE CHART AND OPPOSITE THE IC, SO INDICATES WHERE YOU'RE GOING AS A PERSON IN YOUR DEVELOPMENT. IT'S NOT JUST YOUR CAREER / YOUR IMAGE.

my source? analysing birth charts and mc persona charts

- 11H AND INCOME.

wherever the 11H ruler is and planets inside the 11H denote what you will make money from in your career

. *     .     　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　    ˚ . *     .     　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　

☆ TROPICAL AND VEDIC.

- SATURN EXALTATION AND FALL EXPLAINED.

:: saw this on twitter and just... sigh

saturn does WORSE in aries for those reasons. being all hotheaded and quick to move and start something vs taking it slow, planning, putting in the work and laying all the appropriate foundations

saturn does better in libra since it's a cardinal air venusian sign and so yes it sits and ponders, creates all the necessary structures, considers both sides (pros and cons etc)

if we think abt saturn as a judge, would u rather want the hot-headed judge or the diplomatic, fair judge? the one who makes a decision quickly or the one who may take too long, but delivers a fairer decision?

just because saturn likes a sign doesn't make the sign bad!!! it means it does BETTER in the sign.

- TROPICAL VENUSIANS ARE SIDEREAL MARTIANS.

while this is seemingly incompatible and contradictory, venus historically ruled over war (aries) and the underworld (scorpio) in several ancient mythologies.

- LEO RULES FAME AND OBSESSION.

as it's fixed fire, leo rules over both fame and obsession. we see famous people dealing with obsessed fans and haters all the time. think of a flame that just keeps on burning and burning.

. *     .     　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　    ˚ . *     .     　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　

☆ VEDIC.

- SWATI + MRIGASHIRA DOLL BEAUTY.

left: swati asc + mrigashira moon / right: mrigashira sun + swati asc

- YOU'RE ATTRACTED TO PEOPLE WITH THE SAME DARAKARAKA AS YOU.

the vastttt majority of people in an astrology discord i am apart of have mars darakaraka (including myself)

- JUPITERIAN APPEARANCE.

jupiter individuals have large eyelid space, which makes sense given jupiter's expansive quality. below are some celeb examples, but i have also seen this with people irl.

kehlani - punarvasu asc, kali uchis - punarvasu sun, ice spice - vishakha moon

NSFW - ASHLESHA AND BONDAGE.

ashlesha is represented by the coiled serpent and means 'embrace' / 'entwine' + alexa demie's fairytales photoshoot incorporated a lot of bondage imagery

alexa demie - ashlesha ascendant

. *     .     　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　    ˚ . *     .     　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　

© 2024 opalblade. do not copy, repost, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[ofstoriesandstardust]

For the October prompts!

²⁴⁾ someone doing up your seatbelt for you + my best boy boone 🥰

october prompts!

alexa! this was so sweet and soft, it had me SPINNING! she's short and sweet, but i hope you enjoy her all the same!!

warnings: minor injuries, a dash of angst, swearing

word count: 890

The first time it happens is after a long day out in the field, returning to the muddy parking lot of the motel, only for you to slip on your way out of the truck. 

And, in a panicked and desperate attempt to catch yourself, you land on your wrist, twisting just right under you to send shooting pain up your arm. 

You hear worried voices around you as you groan, head resting against the open truck door as both Tyler and Boone round the truck to reach you. 

“Are you okay?” Tyler asks, taking the arm resting on the floor of the truck and gently lifting you up. 

“Um,” You hum, feeling your cheeks flame as you glance down at yourself, mud coating almost every inch of your jeans. “Well, yeah I think so.” 

“Here, let me help.” Boone offers, taking your other arm and you immediately hiss as Boone touches your wrist. His hands fly away from your skin, a guilty look making his eyebrows pinch together, as you immediately miss his touch. 

“Okay,” You breathe. “Okay, maybe not fine.” 

Tyler frowns, helping you over to the paved sidewalk outside the motel doors and calls for Dani and then instructs Lilly to get you a new pair of pants from your duffel in the van. 

Dani appears next to you, gently taking your arm as Boone hovers nervously, chewing his lip. You try to shoot the man a comforting smile but it wilts as Dani presses just right and you groan. “Fuck. Oh fuck. Fuck, do you have to press so hard, Christ woman.” 

Dani frowns. “I ain’t pressing any harder than the normal amount.” She lets your arm drop and you let your weight fall into Boone’s side as pain ripples up your arm. His hand finds your waist, supporting you. 

“I’ve got you.” He says softly. 

“I know you do, Booney.” 

Your eyes flutter shut, not even realizing you said the words out loud, absolutely missing the way his cheeks flush at your words. 

-

A pants change later, you’re back in the front seat of Tyler’s car, Boone’s gentle hands pulling your seatbelt down around you. 

It’s a move almost so out of character for Boone you could've mistaken him for Tyler, oh so chivalrous and gentle giant Tyler. 

But no, Boone is delicately moving your arm out of the way, mindful of your wrist, as he clicks the seatbelt into place. 

Gentle, delicate, treating you like you were fragile — all words so far out of the usual loud, rowdy, chaotic that usually described your… something. 

It’s hard to reconcile as pain blooms in your wrist, Boone looking on in concern as Tyler climbs into the driver’s seat. Boone licks his lips as he looks at his best friend. “And you’ll call me when y’all get settled?” 

“I promise, Booney.” Tyler says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

-

The second time it happens is when you’re on the reverse of it, months later. 

Boone’s drunk, stumbling so, and his arm is slung around your shoulders as he follows you out to Tyler’s truck, the blond having begrudgingly entrusted you with his “baby” for the night. 

You laugh as he rambles on about why he’s so grateful for the existence of sharks, opening the passenger door for him. He all but tumbles in and you have to bite back a giggle as he struggles with his seatbelt. 

“Here, Booney, let me help.” You say, taking it from him, maneuvering his lanky limbs out of the way to get it clicked into place. 

“I love you.” 

You freeze, jaw dropping as you look up at him. 

Over the last few months, you and Boone have flirted over the boundaries of friends, stolen kisses in the back of the truck, late nights cuddling in your bed, sneaking in after Dani and Lilly have fallen asleep. 

But he’s always gone in the morning and he’s never asked to define what it is that you’re exactly doing. And you never wanted to press, too happy to take whatever Boone was willing to give. 

“You’re just so pretty.” He hums. “And-” He hiccups. “And nice. To me. And you’ve got really soft lips. Like so soft.” 

You choke on your spit, studying the way Boone’s face is illuminated by the silver moonlight through the windshield. 

To steal his words, he’s so pretty like this. 

Your heart thumps against your ribcage, threatening to beat out as you study his face, his content smile. 

You wanted it, but not like this. 

“Tell me again in the morning.” You say softly. 

He gives you a two finger salute, grin turning lopsided. “Aye aye captain.”

You’re grateful Tyler is spending the night in Kate’s room as getting Boone into his room is nothing short of a loud affair. He stumbles into the room, tipping onto the bed and you sigh, flicking on the lights. 

The man is passed out as you finally wrestle his boots free and you sigh, a fond sort of exasperation taking over you as you study him. You gently untie his bandana, running a hand through his curls as you move the fabric off his neck. 

Before you can think better of it, you press a soft kiss to his forehead. “Night Booney.” And then- 

“I love you too.”

[beautyofaphrodite]

Venus Verticordia

As you may know, I’ve been making posts with deep dives into artistic depictions of Lady Aphrodite (or technically Lady Venus). I’ve already covered The Birth of Venus by Botticelli and Cabanel, Venus Victrix by Canova and Venus Anadyomene by Titian. Today’s artwork is Venus Verticordia by Rossetti.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Dante Gabriel Rossetti was an English poet, illustrator, painter, and translator born on May 12, 1828 in London and died April 9, 1882 in Kent. His work was characterised by its sensuality and its medieval revivalism and was a major precursor of the Aesthetic movement. He tended to create his artwork based off of his poetry.

Description of the Painting + Symbolism

Venus, depicted pale, with dark red hair is shown nude surrounded by roses and honeysuckles. She holds a golden apple (alluding to the judgement of Paris) and a gold-tipped arrow. She has a halo and is surrounded by yellow butterflies.

The roses and honeysuckle represent sexual passion, and the arrow is Venus’ son Cupid’s arrow, and the fact that it’s pointed towards her heart represents “uncontrollable desire”. While partially a reference to Eris’ Apple of Discord in the Judgement of Paris, the golden apple also symbolizes forbidden fruit in the story of Eve in the Garden of Eden, showing temptation. Venus is shown with a halo, which represents holiness and purity. The butterflies may represent Venus’ soul, her attendants, or the involvement of the soul as well as the body in love and desire.

Poem

This poem was written by Rossetti to accompany the painting.

“She hath the apple in her hand for thee,

Yet almost in her heart would hold it back;

She muses, with her eyes upon the track

Of that which in thy spirit they can see.

Haply, ‘Behold, he is at peace,’ saith she;

‘Alas! the apple for his lips,—the dart

That follows its brief sweetness to his heart,—

The wandering of his feet perpetually!’

A little space her glance is still and coy;

But if she give the fruit that works her spell,

Those eyes shall flame as for her Phrygian boy.

Then shall her bird's strained throat the woe foretell,

And her far seas moan as a single shell,

And through her dark grove strike the light of Troy.”

About the Painting

Venus Verticordia was commissioned by Patron John Mitchell of Bradford in 1863, and Rossetti worked on it from 1864 to 1868. The painting moved to the Russell-Cotes Art Gallery & Museum collection in 1945 where it is still displayed. The dimensions of this painting are 98.1 cm × 69.9 cm (38.6 in × 27.5 in).

Fun Facts

- The model for this painting was originally “a remarkably handsome cook whom he met in the street” but was later changed to resemble Alexa Wilding, one of his favorite muses.

- Verticordia means Changer of the Heart, referring to “Venus's ability to turn women's hearts towards virtue”

- During the time in which this was created, Flower Language was a big thing, and this is shown in the symbolism of the flowers surrounding Venus

- This is Rossetti’s only nude oil painting

I hope you learned something, I certainly did! As always, if there’s any artistic depictions of Lady Aphrodite or Lady Venus (whether painting, statue, etc) you particularly like or want me to cover, please let me know! Love y’all 🫶

[achromatophoric]

Wenclairtober 2024, Day 10 - Missing Scene

Shortly after Wednesday receives the messages from her stalker, a group of conspirators meets in at a secret location somewhere near Nevermore.

Conspirator 1: Our plans are in motion. That bitch won’t know what’s coming.

Conspirator 2: Do you think she liked the sticker? I hope she liked it. It took a while to animate.

Conspirator 3: Shut up, Glicker. No one cares about your sticker.

Joel Glicker: Oh yeah? Well no one cares about your missing nut!

Conspirator 3: Say that again, you little shit!

Joel Glicker: Little shit? I’ll eat you alive, you dumb normie!

Conspirator 3: Like I’m scared of a scrawny pussy of a zombie.

A roiling ball of fire bursts into existence between the two, sending them reeling back.

Conspirator 1: Back down, Dalton. Save your toxic masculinity for our true enemy.

Dalton: R-Right. Sorry, Aman— I mean Lady Buckman.

Amanda Buckman: Good. And Joel is a ghoul, not a zombie. Just like you, he lost any chance at a normal life. All because of her.

Dalton: Right. Yeah. I’m uh— sorry, Glicker. What you said about eating me. Kinda triggering, ya know?

Joel Glicker: *winces* Oh shit, my bad. I forgot that piranha ate your… fuck, yeah, I’m sorry.

Dalton: *shudders* It’s cool, man. And um— I’m sorry about the ghoul thing. It sucks that Addams scared you to death on cursed ground.

Satisfied by the reconciliation, Amanda snaps her fingers and extinguishes the pyrokinetic flame.

Amanda Buckman: We must stand unified if we’re going to get our vengeance on Wednesday Fucking Addams. We each owe her.

Amanda Buckman: *to Joel* For lives ruined.

Amanda Buckman: *to Dalton* For respect lost.

Amanda looks down at her hands, watching as flickers of flame briefly trace along her fingers.

Amanda Buckman: For making us outcasts.

The room falls silent for a contemplative moment.

Dalton: *suddenly* I can’t wait to wipe that superior look off the bitch’s face.

Joel Glicker: Yeah! I fucking hate that look. Like she thinks she’s better than us.

Dalton: *grits teeth* And those dead eyes. Fucking creepy!

Joel Glicker: *growls* And those stupid braids! I want to rip them out.

Amanda Buckman: *hisses* And her plush, perfect lips. I just want to bite them.

Dalton: What?

Joel Glicker: Excuse me?

Amanda Buckman: 😳

Amanda Buckman: OFF! Bite them off.

Dalton/Joel Glicker: 🤨🤨

Amanda Buckman: *clears throat* Dalton, your fake identity is ready. Your interview with the Jericho PD is early tomorrow morning, so get some sleep.

Dalton: Uh. Right. Got it. Thanks. *leaves*

Joel Glicker: Guess I’ll head back to Nevermore and finish packing.

Amanda Buckman: Before you go, I have another job for you.

Joel Glicker: Yeah?

Amanda Buckman: Get me everything you can on that Enid Sinclair. School records, social media, medical history. All of it.

Joel Glicker: Her roommate? How come?

Amanda Buckman: She’s gotten too close to Wednesday. Can’t have some dumb blonde getting in the way of what’s mine.

Joel Glicker: Um.

Amanda Buckman: OURS! What’s ours. Just— just send me what you can by the end of the gay— DAY. End of the DAY.

Amanda Buckman: *flushes* Oh for fuck’s sake— just GO.

Joel Glicker: You know, I uh.. I used to have the biggest OHSHIT!

Amanda follows the first eruption of flame with a second for emphasis.

Joel Glicker: I’m going I’m going! *escapes*

Amanda Buckman: 😤

Amanda Buckman: 😒

Amanda Buckman: *deep sigh*

Amanda Buckman: Alexa, play Good Luck Babe.

Alexa: ‘Good Luck, Babe!’ by Chappell Roan, from Spotify.

Amanda sinks down into a chair as the song begins. She fishes an old Polaroid from her pocket and stares obsessively longingly at it. The edges are slightly melted, but the image of two young girls is untouched.

Amanda Buckman: Soon, my Pocahontas. Soon…

[should-know-better]

Today I discovered that Alex Turner was not* in an official relationship both times that TLSP projects started.

Timelines:

Jan 2007 - Alex and Johanna Bennett break up

Feb - Mar 2007 - AM on tour with The Liitle Flames. Alex and Miles write together. (* Nb: they had written some songs at the end of 2006 too so technically I suppose he was in a relationship then but hardly saw her)

Apr 2007 and Jul 2007 - TAOTU demos done.

6-8 Jul 2007 - T in the Park. Alex and Alexa meet but she already has a boyfriend.

Aug 2007 - TAOTU recorded in France.

Oct 2007 - Q Awards. Alex and Alexa officially together for the first time.

Apr 2008 - TAOTU released.

End Jan 2014 - Alex and Arielle break up.

11-20 Apr 2014 - Alex and Miles go on a road trip to Coachella and listen to old TAOTU songs on the way. Miracle Aligner first strummed.

Rest of 2014 - Alex and Miles - Power Couple Era

Dec 2014 - Aviation written.

Mar 2015 - Alex and Taylor get together.

Summer 2015 - EYCTE recorded in Malibu.

April 2016 - EYCTE released.

This is all just a very long winded way of saying what I said at the beginning. However I thought the timeline made the history clearer (well it does for me). I’d never realised that Alex and Alexa weren’t properly together when TAOTU was recorded in France during that idyllic summer…