#also affects fertility!

[barefootbaltimore]

So there's a non zero chance I have Thalassemia so that's fun and fresh

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

it also once again makes me painfully aware of the woes of being a dragon age dwarf enjoyer (<- being starved for proper lore) 😔

[alinedreams]

Once I've learned about diagnostic bias, I got really darn angry because that was one of the reasons for most of my suffering.

Is autism more prevalent in AMAB because of a greater genetic propensity, or is it better diagnosed in AMAB because the belief of autism being more prevalent in AMAB makes many professionals ignore or downright refuse to diagnose AFAB unless there's an intellectual deficit, thus leading to a statistical bias confirmation?

Is autism more prevalent in white, middle class and above kids because autism is correlated to race and financial success, or is it more prevalent in those kids because poor and black kids are less likely to be diagnosed due to diagnostic bias making doctors ignore symptoms in Black kids and hike up prices because "well, it's less common in poorer kids, so, there's no reason for diagnosis to be cheap", difficulting the access to proper diagnosis to those who can't pay?

Autism is just one example among many, but do you understand my train of thought? Just how many people had to suffer or even die because of diagnostic biases? How many had to be dismissed, ignored and mismedicated (or even self-medicated) because of outdated statistics and scientific approaches? Just how many were victims of, may I dare to call it that way, MEDICAL FREAKING SUPERSTITION?

[wonder-worker]

Is it true that Elizabeth of York birth celebrated like she was a son? I have seen some historians say this.

Hi! Yes, Edward IV did celebrate his daughter’s birth as though she was a male heir (“a prince”), iirc as per the Great Chronicle.

While we have no contemporary reports at the time of Elizabeth of York's birth, we know that Luchino Dallaghiexia reported that the birth of Edward and Elizabeth's third child, Cecily of York, "rejoiced the king and all the nobles exceedingly*, though they would have preferred a son'. Wanting a son (ie: an heir) was typical for their time period, likely enhanced by Edward and Elizabeth's unprecedentedly controversial marriage, her very unsuitable origins and his own status as a usurper. The fact that he was described as being "exceedingly" delighted at the birth of his third daughter in a row regardless does support the claim that he would have gone over-the-top to celebrate the birth of his first legitimate** child.

Hope this helps!

*Bizarrely, I have seen several historians and blogs using Dallaghiexia's letter to claim that he was bitterly disappointed at Cecily of York's birth. I don't understand how historical reading comprehension can be so poor that "rejoiced the king exceedingly" has somehow been rewritten as the...exact opposite of that. With no self-awareness whatsoever. **His illegitimate daughter Margaret (known as Elizabeth for some reason) was almost definitely born before his marriage. We don't know the birth dates of his other two illegitimate children: I think the likeliest conception date for Arthur was in early 1470, but it's unverified; and we know nothing about Grace (which was in fact her surname, not her name) other than the fact that Elizabeth Woodville seems to have been very attached to her.

[bijoumikhawal]

Stylized Coptic human figures

[sukunas-wife]

Being Sukuna’s Pregnant Wife and being worshipped as a diety because you were able to conceive the four armed hulking cursed child, you must have the blessing of fertility

Having a shrine erected in your name because barren women believed you’d bless them with fertility despite your legacy starting with the child of the curse that torments them all

Telling your hand maids “Don’t bring me my clothes, bring me one of the kings robes.” The hand maids flinching and wanting to protest out of fear of taking the King of Curses robes

The poor naive young hand maid that had grown a crush on the king excitedly rushing if it meant she could enter the private bed chambers,

Scoffing with a malicious smile to your loyal maids when they shook their heads with Sympathy, they learned long before at such a request it would be foolish to go alone, at least 2 or 3 of them would need to go in your name, preferably the ones your husband recognized to be by your side the longest. But you didn’t like this new girl, she was too enthusiastic to work at the palace only to have a complete change in character when she learned she was assigned to work for you

“It’ll serve that poor girl right” you looked away from the door when your loyal hand maids brought out a wooden box with one of Sukuna’s folded Kimono’s they helped you dress your swollen belly accentuated by the belt the kimono tailored to fit your husband left you with extra space and length, it was far more comfortable then the Kimono’s and robes you were, the lingering smell of your husband with comforting as your rubbed your belly hands barely peeking from the massive sleeves

“Let’s go see my husband.” Was all you said as you started your walk, the maids followed close as you made it to the bed chambers, the door was open, you looked in, Sukuna sneering down at the girl laying in a pool of blood, Uraume was making quick work of the mess

Sukuna’s snapped to you and his arm’s opening in an unusual display of affection, you walked around the mess to reach him, he pulled you into his left side, one hand on your waist the other making you face him, bring his right hand up he rested his hand on your stomach “Some of your maids need a lesson on how to speak to their king,” he looked away from your face to your stomach as he started to move his hands in circles “So swollen with my child, it’s no wonder you send your maids to steal my robes.”

You smack his shoulder with a playful smile and he chuckled “Don’t say it like that you make me feel bigger than i am.”

“Now,” he looked up at your face again, “why are you here.”

You tilted your head to the side, “I started contractions this morning, I’ve been in pain all day and I’m barely standing, my new maid wouldn’t stop speaking so highly of my husband accomplishing having a child when I was at my worst pain level getting ready to push out YOUR child that I HAD to carry. Anyhow I came to get you because he is ready to come.”

Sukuna stared down at you confused “How do you know it’s a boy?”

“I’m his mother,” he watched as you placed your hand over his stilling his rubbing of your stomach, “I knew he was a boy from the day your seed took.”

Sukuna smirked “Is that so? Then let’s see this boy.”

🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤

After an hour of fighting the doctor tending to your birth you gave birth to your lively son, born screaming without needing stimulation to cry form the doctor. Your husband couldn’t help but laugh when he saw his child in his full glory, he was a boy indeed.

The help immediately gave you your son and you cooed at him when he took to your breast, your husband taking blankets from the maids and covered your son also covering you in the process as you struggled a bit to pass what came next. Your son a spitting image of his father, your breathy laugh caught Sukuna’s attention as he came back to your bed side stroking your hair and rubbing your stomach the way the help had been doing.

“What amuses you?” He watched his son slowly close his eyes as you coddled him closer.

“I’m the one who had to carry him for so long, and the ingrate took nothing from me.” You smiled and shook your head before looking up at Sukuna.

Soon the doctor left after clearing you of any possible issues and checking your son. “His name?” You looked at Sukuna and he sighed “Yuji”

The look of adoration in your eyes was something Sukuna would’ve wanted to capture forever if he could express the sentiment. However for now he’d settle for memorizing every detail of today. His wife birthing his first heir, the name she had chosen he permitted.

Maybe just maybe this world wasn’t so bad

[yuujispinkhair]

CollegeBoy!Sukuna accidentally knocking you up – Part 2 A

-> Option A: "I'm not ready to be a mom"

You can read Part 1 here

I decided to write two different versions of Part 2 (both are comforting). Option A: Reader has an abortion Option B: Reader decides to have the baby(s)

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff. Light angst with a happy end. 2K words. Unplanned pregnancy, Reader has a surgical abortion. Everything goes well. Sukuna takes good care of Reader. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Divider@/plutism + dollsciples + benkeibear

Finding out that you accidentally got knocked up by your college sweetheart was definitely a shock. And it didn't end there because now you are faced with having to make a decision that has the potential to change your life forever.

You sleep a night over it and spend the next day going on a long walk with Sukuna, hoping the fresh air will help you clear your mind. It's when you sit down on a park bench and lean against Sukuna's biceps when you ask softly,

"So what are we going to do, Kuna?"

And Sukuna wraps his arm around you and pulls you against his side,

"It's your choice, princess. I will be there for you no matter what. I'm man enough to handle both. And ultimately, it's your body, so you should be the one who makes the decision."

It makes you love him even more.

Sukuna is usually a very dominant person, someone who likes to be in control. Seeing him hold back and give you the reins fills you with deep affection.

You have contemplated both options, glad that Sukuna made it clear that he won't run even if you want to have the baby. But in the end, there is one option that feels more right for you at this point in your life.

When you tell Sukuna that you want to terminate the pregnancy, he doesn't comment on whether this is what he would have decided or not but just pulls you into his strong arms and hugs you, tells you again that he will drive you to the hospital and be there for you all the way.

You practically melt into the comfort of his strong arms as you add softly,

"It's not that I don't want a baby with you, Kuna. You know that, right? It has nothing to do with you. I just think we are too young. I am too young. I don't want the stress of having to be a mom while I still go to college and have to study for exams and try to find a good job, etc. It already seems so much, and when I imagine also having to take care of a little baby, I don't think I can manage all of it, even with you by my side."

Sukuna smiles at you, not one of his smug smirks or flirty boyish grins, but a genuine smile, soft and tender, a smile that is only reserved for you.

"I know, princess. Don't worry your pretty head about this."

Sukuna is with you throughout the whole journey. He drives you to your doctor and insists on going up to the waiting room with you because he knows how nervous you are. He sits next to you, holds your hand, caresses your fingers soothingly, and grins reassuringly at you. He makes a flirty comment and winks at you when your name gets called, trying his best to make you laugh and feel less nervous.

But you know that he is nervous too. When you get back twenty minutes later, you can see that Sukuna is still on the same page of the book he started to read when you left. His mind obviously occupied with other things, just as affected by the situation as you are.

It makes you reach out and hug him tightly, comforting him just like he comforts you, even though he would never admit openly that this makes him anxious just as much as you.

"My doctor already made an appointment at the clinic for me to have another examination and to sign all the documents and stuff. But it's when you have training, so you really don't have to come with me."

But Sukuna rolls his eyes and shakes his head,

"What are you saying? Stop it, baby. Of course, I am coming with you. If I can put my dick in you, I can also accompany you to your appointment. After all, it's my apparently super-fertile sperm that got you into that situation in the first place! I'll skip training. It's not important. Nothing is as important as you are to me."

The next four days feel weird. You go to the examination at the clinic. You listen to the doctor explaining the procedure to you. You nod, you smile politely, and you sign several documents before you get sent halfway through the hospital to meet an anesthetic and sign more papers. They send you home with a sheet full of instructions on what to do before and after the surgery.

You spend the days until the surgery in a daze. Everything feels unreal.

But you aren't alone. Sukuna doesn't leave your side. It's almost funny how he follows you around like a puppy. The big bad boy, all sweet and doting.

On the day of the abortion Sukuna drives you to the hospital. He walks with you to the unit where the surgery will take place, and his large hand squeezes your smaller one so tightly it almost hurts.

You can see and feel how reluctant he is to let go of you and how worried he is about you, even though he tries to hide it and play it cool so as not to make you more anxious than you already are. But his hug is even tighter than usual, almost bone-crushing the way his strong arms tighten around you, and he pulls you against his tall, muscular body.

He kisses you, too deep and with too much tongue for the location, but you tilt your head to let him push his tongue even deeper into your mouth, craving his kiss and his love and the reassurance he gives you that way.

You leave towards the room where you are supposed to change, looking back over your shoulder one last time and Sukuna is still standing there in the hallway, his hands shoved into the pockets of his grey sweatpants, looking so cool with his tattoos and the pink hair. But you can see the tenseness in his broad shoulders and the worry on his tattooed face.

It makes your chest feel warm, and you can't help but mouth "I love you" in his direction, smiling when you see him say the words too.

Your surgery goes by without any complications, and the moment you wake up, a nurse is already by your side, bringing you tea and something to eat, and some painkillers. But you are impatient, wanting nothing more than to leave and be in Sukuna's comforting embrace, feel the warmth of his body and inhale his scent and hear his velvety low voice murmuring sweet nothings in your ear.

You're glad when you are finally allowed to get up and get dressed again, promising the nurse that you have someone who will stay with you for the next 24 hours.

When you leave the changing room, you see Sukuna leaning against the wall right next to the reception. His tattooed face is a bit pale, and he is playing nervously with his tongue piercing once again.

His maroon eyes meet yours, and he is by your side in a second, a strong arm wrapping around your waist and carefully pulling you against his side, steadying you, holding you securely, making sure you won't fall. His lips press against your temple, lingering there for a long moment, warm and soft,

"Fuck. I'm glad you're finally out of there."

You can hear the strain in his low voice, can hear every ounce of worry and anxiety he felt during the last hours when he was sitting in his room, waiting for the hospital to call him and tell him, you are ok.

You lean gratefully against him, feeling a bit dizzy from the anesthetics, glad that you have your strong boyfriend to hold you.

"I'm so glad you're here, Sukuna."

"How are you, princess?"

"I'm good. Just a bit wobbly on my feet. And I need something to eat. I'm starving!"

And Sukuna laughs softly, sounding so relieved,

"Well, how lucky you are that your boyfriend spent the last few hours in the kitchen to distract himself and prepare your favorite dishes for you."

And suddenly, your sight becomes blurry as tears well up in your eyes and run down your cheeks without you even knowing why you suddenly start crying now that it's over when, in the days leading up to the abortion, you didn't shed a single tear!

But maybe all the stress and anxiety of the last few days finally caught up with you. The contradictory emotions of feeling a bit wistful about letting go of that fantasy of Sukuna and you having your own little family versus the relief you feel that it's over and that you can live your life the way you planned.

But you suspect that, most of all, it is the overwhelming love you feel for Sukuna right at that moment. You are so touched by how caring he is. How mature he was in this situation. That he didn't run, that he didn't leave you to deal with all of this on your own. He is so worried about you and does so much to make you feel okay. He is so strong all the time, so you have someone to lean on.

A sniffle escapes your trembling lips, and Sukuna's eyes widen. He pulls you against him, burying his face in your hair and murmuring soothingly to you,

"Hey, baby, it's ok. Everything's going to be ok. Don't cry."

Your hands are on Sukuna's broad chest, and you feel the warmth of his skin and the beat of his heart through the soft hoodie he is wearing, comforting and reassuring.

"I'm ok, Kuna, I swear. It's just... I love you so much."

"I love you too."

His voice sounds tender when he says the words, and you snuggle closer to him, lifting your head to look at his beautiful tattooed face. And Sukuna leans down a bit, enough so he can brush his lips over yours.

That's how you end up standing in the middle of the hospital hallway, hugging your boyfriend and kissing him slowly as if the two of you are the only people in this world.

But you make it to the parking lot a few minutes later, walking there with the help of Sukuna's strong arm wrapped around you.

Sukuna is so gentle, so caring. He helps you into the car and puts on your seat belt for you as if you can't do it yourself. He stops at a convenience store to get some pads for you, jogging back to the car as if he is running from a crime scene because he is worried about letting you out of his sight even for a few minutes.

He helps you out of the car again, once you have reached your apartment, picks you up princess-style and carries you up the stairs. He sits you down on the couch, wraps you in a warm blanket and glares at you when you try to get up.

"Don't be a brat! Just stay right here and rest and let me bring you the meal I cooked for you with all my fucking love!"

He brings you the food and plops down next to you, checking if you really eat something, like some super stern nurse, and you can't help but feel warm, knowing that your bad boy is so amazingly sweet and caring when it comes to you.

The moment your face twists in pain, Sukuna is on his knees in front of you, fear in his maroon eyes, his large hands on your thighs, looking up at you with worry written all over his tattooed face.

"What's wrong?"

You grit your teeth and smile shakily at him, reaching out to cup his cheek and caress it tenderly, touched by how worried he is for you.

"It's nothing bad, Kuna. They told me I would get cramps after the surgery. It's perfectly normal! But it feels like really bad period cramps. They gave me some painkillers for that. Can you..."

You can't even finish the sentence before Sukuna is on his feet again, already walking over to your bag,

"I'll get them for you!"

You thank him, and he sits down next to you again, watching you the whole time with narrowed maroon eyes until you chuckle and reach over to ruffle his pink hair,

"I won't drop dead if you stop looking at me for one second, you know, baby? Eat something, too, I know you are hungry!"

"Don't joke about stuff like that, princess. I am just taking my job as your personal nurse seriously."

And he really does. For the next few days, Sukuna barely leaves your side. And even a week later, he is still acting differently around you, and you begin to realize that this is probably how he will always be now. Even more protective. Even more caring.

The unplanned pregnancy and the abortion didn't drive a wedge between the two of you. Instead, it made the two of you grow even closer. You shared a life-altering experience. Because even though you decided not to have the baby, it still will be something you will always carry with you. And you will never forget how Sukuna reacted. How he was there for you. How he respected your decision and how he cared for you.

You learned that Sukuna is more than just the sexy bad boy you can have fun with. He showed you that you can always count on him, that he won't run when real problems occur. You learned that if one day in the future you actually want to have a baby, you have a wonderful man by your side who would be a loving partner and a damn good dad.

You sigh happily as you lie in your bed with Sukuna behind you. He has become more cuddly since accidentally knocking you up. He wants to spend every night at your apartment or asks you to stay at his. As if he needs to hold you every night, keeping you safe and sound, wrapped in his strong arms, his buff body pressing against your back, and his lips trailing lazy kisses over your neck.

The two of you are living your regular lives again, going to classes, studying, going to training, to parties. No one else knows what happened to you. It's a secret between you and Sukuna because you both want it that way. No one else has to know. This is just something the two of you share.

A commercial for baby food starts playing in between two episodes of the crime show you are watching. A young family, mom and dad, and a tiny baby. And even though it's been weeks, it still makes you feel a bit weird to see it.

Sukuna's arm tightens around you. Maybe he felt you tense up, or maybe he had the same thoughts as you when seeing the commercial. Either way, his hand slips down to your belly, caressing it gently, and there's a smile in his low voice when he says,

"You know, it's not the end of it, princess, right? We can still have one.... when we are older. If we want."

You smile and snuggle against Sukuna's warm, muscular body. Your hand lands on top of his larger one, which is resting on your belly now, and you interlace your fingers with his, feeling the weird tension leave your body again.

"If I ever want to have a baby, it will definitely be with you, Sukuna."

I LOVE HIM 💗😭

Thank you so much for all the love on Part 1!! The story wouldn't leave my mind anymore, and after I got several comments and asks where people asked about a possible Part 2, I wanted to continue the story about College sweetheart Sukuna knocking us up and show how Reader and Sukuna deal with both options, so I decided to write two different versions.

I hope you liked Option A and that it could give you comfort.

Option B will be the version where Reader decides to have the baby (or rather babies lol). I plan to post it next week!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

You can find Option B here

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, omegaverse, poly

gn reader

Thinking about Betas and how lost they are navigating the world of Alphas and Omegas. Betas, with no second gender and none of those primal instincts, who has to listen to all this mating and bonding drama without ever participating in any of it. Betas, who often find Omegas cute and Alphas hot but who feel kind of left out of the running. Betas who make great clueless friends…

“So, do you like—take suppressants for your heats or?” he asks during lunch.

You knew it was coming. You’d just had a special guest lecture about heats and ruts, and all your friends, the entire two of them, were both betas—so it was mostly all new to them.

“Dude! That’s so personal!” your other friend berates, jabbing his side and casting him a glare before throwing you an apologetic smile on both of their behalf. But you could tell he was burning with the same curiosity, he was just polite enough to look it up on his phone instead.

“M’sorry, but teach didn’t explain it well,” he apologizes while rubbing his side clear of the definite bruise left there. “Like…” He almost pouts, picking at his lunch. “What do heats actually do? Like—does it compel Alphas to—uhm… have sex with you? Or?”

“Dude!” the other all but shrieks.

“It’s fine,” you declare with a little laugh. Though it’s true what he says that it’s personal, you wouldn’t really mind disclosing some of the basics. Especially if it meant killing off a few rumors.

Though you regret it a bit once both of them end up staring at you wide-eyed and waiting.

“Uhm…” You swallow thickly—you didn’t realize it was that interesting. “So, it’s really… just a faint scent that’s caused by pheromones.” They don’t even blink as they listen, lunches all but forgotten in front of them. “All it really does is let people know when I’m—or an Omega—uhm… is most fertile.”

“Right…” One of them nods respectfully.

But the other, as usual, has more questions to ask. “So why take suppressants if that’s all it is?”

You blush. “Well, it’s kinda embarrassing to walk around letting people know such a thing…” That’s half of it. “But, uhm… well—heats don’t affect others more than it affects Omegas themselves. It’s kinda like… having a fever—but also having swallowed a lot of cough syrup. And well…” You’re really blushing now. Lowering your voice almost to a whisper. “There’s the horny aspect of it too.”

The other two blush as well. The more mature one had gone silent a while ago, but even so, it didn’t stop the other from continuing. “So, like a drug then?”

That wasn’t the worst way of putting it, so you nodded. “I guess you could say that.”

He smiles then, widely. “Sounds kinda fun!”

And the other jabs his side once more. “Dude, shut up already.” 

You didn’t think a Beta could ever do the job of an Alpha—but lucky you had two of them.

You have one of them in your mouth, suckling sweetly, hooded eyes glossy with your heat, looking up at him—your well-mannered Beta friend who barely dares touch you but is absolutely falling apart by the way your tongue swirls around his shaft, trailing veins as you take him as far back as your uvula. He’s biting his lip hard, keeping it tucked so as not to moan out the way his friend is.

He isn’t afraid to touch—or he couldn’t hold back even if he were. He’s squeezing the fat of your haunches hard enough to leave bruises, keeping you in place as he pounds you hard from behind. Unabashed groans and moans leave him, along with the slick squelches of your hole soaking and sucking him in.

“Fu-uck, can’t believe it—it’s so fucking wet—” He’s drooling and sweating, eyes misty and glued to the sight of where he’s drilling the juice out of you. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen. Not that he has too much experience, but he’s never wanted to cum so badly in his entire life. “You’re so tight—squeezing me so hard!” he rambles while continuing his downright desperate pace.

“Shut up…” the other mutters under his breath but doesn’t take his eyes off you. You’re bewitching him with your gaze—round doe-eyes, blown wide with pleasure. He wonders if you even know what’s happening or if it’ll be like a blacked-out hangover in the morning. He ought to have asked more questions when he could. But he can’t seem to bring himself to care. In any case, you seem to be loving the taste of his pre, and the thought is making every part of his body buzz with warmth. You’ll probably drink his cum with the way you’re drooling and mewing around him.

It nearly brings them both to tears—it’s like the wettest dream come true as they both fill you up—one deep into your womb as he bottoms out tightly and the other down your throat with your lips wrapped all the way down at the base.

They both collapse afterward. One lies on his back and the other on his stomach—bodies stippled with sweat—both heaving.

You pout, looking at them. They must be out of their minds if they think that’s all it takes. You straddle the one on his back, both your hands around his softening dick, rubbing it back into hardness.

“Hey, hey, hey—hey, wait!” he stammers, shooting up and stopping you—both hands wrapping around your wrist to try and pry you off without prying his dick off while at it.

“No!” you whine. “Not done.”

The look in your eyes is sore enough to make any man fall to his knees.

“Please? I need more… please give me more…”

If he was blushing before, he’s full feverish now. Panning from your pouty face riddled with desperation down at his fellow Beta friend who looks back up at him with a similar expression.

We're in trouble.

♡ BNHA – ShinKami, KiriKami, KamiSero, KiriBaku, TodoDeku, loserboys ShigaDabi or DabiHawks ♡ JJK – ItaFushi, loserboys SatoSugu ♡ HQ – Miya twins, KageHina, BokuAka, ♡ CSM – AkiDen

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[schizosupport]

I think there's a terrible catch 22 existing for mentally ill people, especially for those of us with psychosis, where diagnosis is necessary for many accommodations, treatment and resources - but diagnosis also puts you at serious risk of systemic oppression and loss of autonomy.

And while it should be considered a privilege not to have had a diagnosis forced on you, it's also pretty fucking wild to have to forego resources that could genuinely improve your life, because it puts you at risk of having your autonomy compromised.

People with diagnoses of the psychotic and schizo spec variety (especially schizophrenia and schizoaffective) are regularly denied things like transition-related healthcare and fertility related healthcare, not to mention we are at a much increased risk of having our children wrongfully removed. We regularly have our health-related concerns dismissed as delusional, which is thought to be a contributing factor to the lower life expectancy of schizophrenics. There's a number of jobs that you're not allowed to take if you have this type of a diagnosis, and in many places, you have to jump through extra hoops for things like keeping a driver's license.

I'm not intending to fear-monger: I think many people affected by these symptoms/disorders are already well aware of the risks in their specific area of the world. But I think that people who are so quick to judge self-identified psychotic individuals for not seeking out professional help and validation, need to consider the serious cost-benefit analysis that goes into this.

And I also think that bright-eyed individuals who seek out professional diagnosis mostly for the sake of validation need to stop and take some time to research whether this diagnosis is liable to come back to haunt them later in life, first. Because if it's just about the validation, I'm here to tell you that you do NOT need a psychiatrist's stamp of approval for your experiences to be real and worthy of support. You are welcome in this community, and I'm never going to judge anyone for choosing not to disclose their symptoms to a psychiatric authority.

[headspace-hotel]

nature things that a lot of people don't know about and weren't even taught about adequately, but they're actually really fundamental and important to know about

how rivers work. Where do they get started? how do they decide which way to flow?? what makes one river muddy and the other one clear?

[They flow downhill. Always. If a river is flowing a Way, that way is Downhill. They start with rain flowing or soaking downhill until it forms into a little trickle through a channel like a gully or drainage ditch, and the farther it flows the more other trickles flow into it from the land around it, until you have a stream, and the streams all flow downhill until they run into each other, and eventually you have a river which finally reaches the ocean. Rivers never flow FROM the ocean because the ocean is the most downhill you can possibly go. I don't think rivers usually split in two—a fork in a waterway is usually two rivers joining together.]

[On the subject of pollution, rain is usually supposed to soak slowly through the layer of leaves, roots, and dead plant material that covers most biomes. But if you tear up the plants and leave bare mud, or replace a forest with a muddy cow pasture, there's no filter, and mud and contaminants wash into the river. Just plain mud can be pollution.]

how soil works. What makes different soils different? Why are some soils good for growing a garden and others terrible? Does it need more fertilizer?

[The sand, silt, clay diagram is very simplified and only deals with one aspect of soil. Roots, soil animals, fungi, and dead plant material are all part of soil and affect its structure, making it spongy and full of holes and passages for nutrients, water, and new roots. Tilling can break hard soil, but tilling doesn't make soil light, fluffy, and permeable—disturbing the soil as little as possible, protecting it with a layer of plant material, and allowing the natural life forms of the soil develop their networks and tunnels and slowly break down the plant material layer does. This is also very simplified. Soil is COMPLICATED.]

what fungi are, and whether they are dangerous.

[fungi cannot harm you unless you eat them or unless they're growing inside your house and you're inhaling their spores in a concentrated space. There's like, one species in Japan that causes skin irritation. You can touch any other species without any harm whatsoever. *Most* of them don't harm your garden either—in fact, most plants connect their root systems to the fungal mycelium in the soil and receive nutrients from the fungus in exchange for the products of photosynthesis.]

Whether lichen harm trees

[no. They're just hanging out. But a LOT of lichen on a tree might be a sign that the tree is dying. It's not the lichen's fault though.]

What moss is??

[it's a plant, but a very simple plant that doesn't have any vessels for transporting water, so it has to live somewhere damp and soak it up like a sponge. There are hundreds of species of moss, and different species live on the side of a boulder vs. the top, or a living tree trunk vs. a fallen dead tree trunk!]

where bugs go in the winter? I straight up had a book as a kid that told me that they just die, without explaining how the species doesn't go extinct if the winter kills them all.

[Tl;dr they're usually hibernating in fallen leaves and dead wood and plant material. Some do this as eggs or larvae/caterpillars; in this case the adults do die, but their children sleep peacefully through the winter to awake in the spring. And still others hibernate as adults. This is why you don't clean up your flower beds until late spring.]

How Many plants there are

[WAY more than you think]

How ecosystems work apart from "everything is out to get everything else and take resources from other organisms."

[Competition and cooperation are both important in ecosystems! Weeds are competitive and they can choke out other plants, but they also protect the soil from erosion and harsh sunlight, keeping it moist and helping organic matter to build up. A lot of plants, when they're young, need to be sheltered by other plants that protect them from dryness, heat, and herbivores. This isn't even getting into how some plants will send nutrients to seedlings or to understory plants in a forest! Before industrial agriculture made monocultures dominant, people used and were familiar with cooperative relationships between plants a LOT more.]

The range of creatures that are pollinators, and how important the variety is.

[Bees, wasps, butterflies, moths, flies, ants, beetles, hummingbirds, and bats are all pollinators, and flowers are usually shaped and colored and scented to attract particular pollinators. Bees can't do everything, and honey bees are only one kind of bee. Red flowers and long tube shaped flowers are often for hummingbirds, pale-colored flowers that open at night need moths, and flowers that give off strong foul odors often attract flies. It gets WAY more complicated than that—sometimes a flower is only pollinated by a single species of bee or wasp or beetle.]

How many bees there are besides honey bees

[LOTS. And you've probably never seen most of them, if you don't regularly spend time around native plants! There are 140 species of longhorn bee alone, and most people haven't even heard of longhorn bees! There are well over a hundred bumble bees too! Bees come in bright, metallic green, blue, and pure gold. In the USA where I live, some of the most endangered bees are the adorable, fluffy bumble bees—the American Bumble Bee is threatened, and we have some species, like the rusty-patched bumble bee, that are critically endangered.]

[Please, please, please do not use pesticides on plants unless it is a necessity, and please do a LOT of research on the specific pesticide you are using and its effects on non-target insects. If there is any alternative, Do Not Do It. ESPECIALLY not pesticides that come in dust or powder form, ESPECIALLY in the USA, because regulations are so loose here that regular people can buy pesticides in dust form that are horribly toxic to bees.]

[How horribly toxic? A pesticide like Sevin dust will cling to the fuzz on every single bee that visits your plant—like pollen—and those bees will probably die. And in social bees, before they die, they will take the poison back to their hive (like pollen) and potentially kill the entire hive.]

[bwabys-scenarios]

Senshi SFW/NSFW HCs

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: foodplay, face sitting, breeding, oral(f!receiving), cockwarming

A/N: People have been BEGGING for Senshi content… so I have delivered. He’s not my fav, but I had to feed the Dungeon Meshi crowd.

SFW

-Such a dad. You tell him all the time that you’d be happy to start a family with him… and he would be a perfect father.

-Senshi is surprisingly very into PDA, often holding you in his lap while he cooks and softly explaining each step he takes while giving your neck and cheeks tender kisses.

-you’re one of the only people allowed to really play with his hair, sometimes even putting little bows or hair ornaments in his beard. He wears them with pride, enjoying his lover’s gifts.

-he absolutely adores everything you do, from the way you talk to the way you drool a little when you sleep next to him. You’re everything to him, and he wants to appreciate your entire being.

-when the two of you fight, it’s often resolved quickly. It’s not often the two of you verbally apologize to each other, instead he brings you your favorite dish and the two of you share a soft kiss and tender touches.

-speaking of food, he is always secretly collecting ingredients for your favorite dishes. There’s no task too dangerous when it comes to making you happy.

-Senshi is very needy sometimes, needing your comfort and affection. He’s woken up with nightmares of his past, tears rolling down his cheeks as you hummed soft melodies to lull him back to sleep.

NSFW

-when I tell you this man’s cock is just dangling between his legs and swinging around… it’s huge.

-the girth… the size… you’re surprised it even fits inside of you, to be honest. Senshi does so much prep, not wanting to hurt your pretty pussy in the slightest!

-as you can imagine, he’s a master of pussy eating. His tongue is heavenly, and he can make you cum within a minute. When he starts it’s hard for him to stop. You just taste so sweet, his favorite meal is your steaming hot pussy, dripping wet.

-when he does finally push his fat cock into you, it takes forever for you to adjust. He often has to rub your clit and get you to cum all over his cock before he can start moving. He later invests in lube.

-Senshi is a very gentle lover, hurting you is out of the question. No hitting, spanking, or choking for him. But… he wouldn’t mind you being a bit rough with his body. Your nails digging into his back while he fucks into you does get him going…

-foodplay… this man loves covering you in honey, treasure bug jam, anything sweet that he can lick off of you. He also loves feeding you while you cockwarm him.

-speaking of cockwarming… he does get a little embarrassed when you cockwarm him while the others are present. Your skirt is hiding the fact that his cock is nestled inside of your pussy and twitching like crazy… but his face is red and everyone is worried that he’s sick or unwell. In reality, he’s been cumming inside of you over and over for the past hour, lightly bouncing you with his knee when he gets close.

-he LOVES your ass and thighs. Sitting on his face will make his dick stick up straight, precum beading at the tip before you even fully lower your pussy onto his face. He’ll squeeze your asscheeks, his tongue deep in your cunt as you whine and ride his face.

-Senshi has a huge breeding kink. He wants a family that will keep him company in the dungeon, so he always cums deep inside of you, and feeds you foods that make you more fertile and healthy.

[lilianasgrimoire]

Herb Correspondences - S-Z

Sage - Used for self-purification and cleansing.  Helps grief and loss. Healing and protection also increase wisdom.   Element Air. 

Sandalwood - Burn during protection, healing, and exorcism spells.  Aids luck and success, meditation and divination. Raises a high spiritual vibration. Element Water. 

Skullcap - Aids in love, fidelity and peace.  Increases harmony. Element Water. 

Sea Salt - Use to cleanse crystals and tools.  For purification, grounding and protection.  Supports ritual work. Absorbs negativity and banishes evil.  Element Earth & Water.  

Sheep's Purse - Prosperity, protection and healing. Element Earth. 

Sheep Sorrel - Carry to protect against heart disease. Cleansing and increases luck.  Use in faery magic. Element Earth. 

St. John's Wort - Worn to prevent colds & fevers.  Induces prophetic and romantic dreams. Protects against hexes and black witchcraft.  Increases happiness. Use in Solar Magic. Element Fire. 

Star Anise - Consecration, purification, and happiness.  Use for curse breaking or increasing luck. Burn to increase psychic awareness.   Element Fire.  

Strawberry Leaf - Attracts success, good fortune, and favorable circumstances. Increases love and aids pregnancy. Element Water. 

Sunflower - Energy, protection, and power.  Aids wisdom and brings about wishes.  Use in fertility magic. Element Fire. 

Sweet Cicely - Use during rituals for the dead or dying.  It helps with divination and the contact of the spirit.  It is sacred to the Goddess’ of death. Element Earth. 

Sweetwood - See Cinnamon.   

Tansy - See Agrimony.  

Tarragon - Increases self-confidence.  Use in Dragon magic. Aids healing after abusive situations.   Element Fire. 

Tea Leaves - Use for courage or strength. In tea for increasing lust. Burn leaves to ensure future riches.  Element Air. 

Thistle - See Blessed Thistle.  

Thyme - Attracts loyalty, affection, and love. Increases good luck and psychic power.  Drink tea to aid sleep. Element Air.  

Valerian - Also called Graveyard dust. Aids sleep is calming and is a sedative.  Quietens emotions. Supports protection and love. Element Water. 

Vervain - Strengthen other herbs. Helps, peace, love and happiness.  Burn the leaves to attract wealth and keep your youth. Increases chastity also.  Element Water. 

Verbena - Psychic protection, peace and purification.  Healing and helps depression. Increases beauty and love.  Mind opening and clearing. Ideal use for exams. Element Earth.  

Violet - See Heart’s Ease.  

White Willow Bark - Use in lunar magic.  Reduces negativity and removes evil forces and hexes.  Used for healing spells. Element Water. 

Willow - Used for lunar magic, drawing or strengthening love, healing, and overcoming sadness.  Element Water. 

Witches Grass - Happiness, lust, love, and exorcism. Reverses hexes.  Element Earth.  

Wood Betony - Use for purification, protection, and the expulsion of evil spirits and nightmares.  Draws love in your direction. Element Fire. 

Woodruff - Victory, protection, and money.  Element Air. 

Wormwood - Used to remove anger, stop war, inhibit violent acts, and for protection. Use in clairvoyance, to summon spirits, or to enhance divinatory abilities. Element Earth. 

Yarrow - Healing, calming and increases love. Used in handfasting & weddings.  Increases psychic power and divination. Gives courage when needed. Element Air. 

[allgirlsareprincesses]

Choosing the Beast: Modern Folklore Heroines Embrace the Animal Husband

“I choose the bear.” The refrain rang out across the web, with many a woman nodding in agreement or at least understanding, and certain men huffing with indignant outrage. Just a meme, really, but did it speak to a deeper truth? Is it merely age-old mistrust of patriarchy talking, or a true desire for the beastly, the wild, the untame?

I’m no sociologist, of course, but I have noticed an emerging trend in fem-gaze media that seems to reflect this view. In movies like I Am Dragon (2015) and recent shows like My Lady Jane and The Acolyte, the heroine chooses the beast, loving her animal husband in his wild form rather than requiring him to transform back into a mundane man to earn her affection. This is such a departure from the typical folktale pattern that it’s difficult to even find an historic example where this occurs.

Commonly thought to reveal the desire to tame a dangerous mate in a patriarchal society, most animal husband tales (ATU 425a) feature a hero who ultimately transforms permanently into a human. This is viewed not only as freeing him from the maddening effect of his wild form, but also saving his bride from committing the sin of bestiality. In these tales, the animal mate’s transformation is necessary for the salvation of both.

Is the modern heroine then damned by choosing her husband’s beastly form? Or does she actually free them both from the yoke of patriarchal expectations?

Bathing: Discovering the Wild Masculine

The first motif that stands out in these modern screen examples is bathing. In animal spouse tales, there is often a dynamic of the hunter and the hunted, and thus a moment when the hunter comes upon their would-be lover unawares. Perhaps they find the animal spouse sleeping, or they cast a light on them unexpectedly, see them without their animal skin or disguise, and so on. And of course, they often come upon the lover at their bath.

There is an implied eroticism in this discovery, finding one’s quarry not only undressed, but also in the most private of activities. Water of course symbolizes fertility, but bathing is also purifying, symbolically washing away all that might make a mate undesirable. And this, perhaps, is the reason that historically this motif is used almost exclusively for animal brides, not animal husbands.

For the animal husband, he either actively chooses to reveal himself to the bride (perhaps on their wedding night), or she violently strips away his disguise, often armed with “flame and steel” like Psyche and her many avatars. Animal brides on the other hand are nearly always discovered at a body of water, bathing. The hunter will then capture her either by stealing her animal skin or cloak, or by placing his own clothing on her. What does it mean, then, when it is the husband who is discovered bathing in a body of water, held as an erotic object in the feminine gaze?

In The Acolyte, Osha follows Qimir to a pool where he slowly undresses, in full knowledge that she is watching. On the shore, she steals his lightsaber, just like the hunter who steals the animal skin, symbolically claiming him. When he emerges, Qimir dons new clothes, as if acknowledging that he is a different person than before he entered the water, almost purified in a way. Osha is forced to confront that there is more to the murderer in the mask than she realized.

Similarly, in My Lady Jane, our heroine goes looking for Guildford just before sunrise on their ill-fated wedding night, only to discover him bathing in the stables. The scene is gratuitously filmed from Jane’s (very horny) perspective, flipping the script on the countless scenes in screen history shot with the masculine gaze. Immediately after she discovers and confronts him, Guildford transforms against his will into a horse, and Jane realizes that he is an Ethian, a creature she has been taught is demonic and unnatural.

And in I Am Dragon, Mira makes several discoveries in quick succession: first, she deduces that Arman is actually the dragon. In the next moment, she slips from the island’s peak and falls, saved only when Arman transforms at the last moment and breaks her fall with his dragon form. The water begins to wash over his unconscious body, and at first Mira thinks that she will allow him to drown. But the sight of Arman in his human form after he rescued her, worried over by his animal familiar, stirs her to pity and she wraps him in a sail and drags him to safety. In this way, she clothes him, claiming him as her own.

Each of these heroines discovered a new aspect of her husband at the bath, finding him unexpectedly alluring, and ultimately choosing to begrudgingly claim him. Each animal husband tried to wash away his beastly form, to separate himself from the wild masculine. These men feel a sense of disassociation from a part of themselves, but now that their brides have discovered it, there will be no more hiding. Further, the bride now holds the power in the relationship, evidenced by how her husband needs her: Qimir needs Osha to be his apprentice, Guildford needs Jane to help him “break the curse,” and Arman needs Mira to heal him from his wounds.

Playing House: The Half-Husband

The second feature of these stories is a period of domesticity for the couple. For a brief time after the husband’s beastly nature is revealed, the lovers “play house” like children. While sexual tension is present, they typically do not consummate their union during this time, but instead cook, eat, rest, and care for one another. What’s more, they ignore or even attempt to actively destroy the husband’s animal form. They deny that this is part of him and therefore part of their relationship.

In I Am Dragon, Mira heals Arman, and wakes the next morning to find he has left food for her (dragonfruit, appropriately). Together they begin building a home out of shipwreck debris they find scattered around the island. A cheery montage shows them decorating a living space, choosing clothes, playing music, and dancing. But the specter of Arman’s monstrous form lurks on the edge of their idyllic life. Mira has nightmares, and tells Arman how much she fears “the dragon,” notably not referring to them as the same person. And eventually, it emerges that Mira has been planning to escape, rejecting Arman’s dragon form entirely.

After he sheds the helmet and robes of The Stranger, Qimir turns his attention to caring for Osha: he heals her, lets her sleep in his bed, provides clothes, and cooks for her. In turn, after some lightsaber-wielding, Osha becomes more comfortable in his home and accepts the food he offers, eventually even trying on his helmet. Later, they bicker amiably on their way to Brendok, like an old married couple on a road trip. When not facing down Jedi, Qimir leaves his menacing persona behind and transforms into an empathetic, protective, and alluring partner.

Jane Grey, meanwhile, finds herself using her honeymoon sequestered away in a private cottage to try to cure Guildford of his Ethianism. With her knowledge of medicine, she concocts various potions and magical cures, but none of them succeed. Guildford often checks in on her after these disappointments, making sure she’s getting enough sleep and taking care of herself. It’s also clear that they’ve been regularly dining together when Jane suddenly dashes off to rescue her friend. Guildford follows her and the two protect one another, followed by an almost-tryst. Even when they move into the palace, their day-to-day (or rather night-to-night) life is one of comfortable domesticity, although they continue to deny Guildford’s horse form.

In each of these cases (although less so in The Acolyte without Season 2 to continue the story), playing house can only last for so long while the husband’s animal nature is denied. There is a part of him that is suppressed, rejected, and this leads to him being incomplete, a half-husband. Each hero is unable or unwilling to accept and celebrate his whole self with his bride. Eventually, it is that denial that leads to a rift between the couple, which can only be healed not with the transformation of the husband, but with the embrace of his animal form.

Enforcing Patriarchy: The Rival

Each of these relationships exists in direct opposition to the dominant culture in the story: Arman as the Dragon is the literal enemy of Mira’s people, Qimir as Sith is the enemy of Osha’s Jedi masters, and in My Lady Jane, intermarriage between humans and Ethians is punishable by death. By choosing to stay with their animal husbands, even for a brief time, our heroines are openly defying the patriarchal norms of their societies. But no oppressive society is about to take that transgression lying down. In each story, a rival emerges to enforce the patriarchal order, kill the beastly husband, and retrieve the bride.

In I Am Dragon, Mira’s betrothed and descendent of the dragon-slayer, Igor, journeys to rescue her from the dragon. Over the course of the story, it becomes clear that Igor cares nothing for Mira herself, and merely feels entitled to her as his bride. Dragon-slaying is his heritage, so he must find her, kill the dragon, and take his place as the hero of his people. Even the marriage ceremony illustrates his ownership of her: he takes hold of a rope tied to her boat and reels her in, thus binding her to the patriarchal order. Contrast that to Arman, who offers her the power of flight, a symbol for freedom.

In Osha’s case, Qimir’s rival for her loyalty is clearly Master Sol, who wants to keep his former pupil dependent on him and the Jedi. Sol takes patronizing fatherliness to an extreme, constantly rescuing Osha rather than letting her stand for herself, teaching her to deny her feelings and instincts, and lying to her to “protect” her. The Jedi refuse to allow that there might be any other way to access the Force than their own, thus invading the home of the Brendok witches and ultimately orphaning the twins. Sol continues to press this dominance to the end, challenging Qimir and insisting to Osha that his own lies were justified.

In My Lady Jane, there are two rivals, both women. Lady Frances attempts throughout the show to dominate her daughters and crush their wills, forcing them into unwanted marriages, applying political pressure, and even counseling Jane to abandon Guildford to save herself. The other rival is Mary Tudor, who is determined not only to emulate her father’s violent, oppressive, and misogynistic reign, but to crush anyone she considers “unnatural” or who poses a threat to her rule. These characters stand as clear examples of how women can enforce patriarchy, too.

In each story, there is a moment when the rival briefly recaptures or “rescues” the bride from her beastly husband, bringing her to a moment of decision: will she stay within the bounds of patriarchy like a good little girl? Or will she make an act of defiance to choose her own path?

Marriage: Choosing the Beast

The bride’s choice will ultimately decide not only her fate, but that of her mate as well. As an independent character, the wild masculine is deeply wounded, separated from himself and thus from his bride. He longs to transform not into a greater, more whole person, but into a lesser, half-person. Alone, without the embrace of his anima, he cannot see the value of his beastly form. Instead of healing, he faces annihilation.

As a part of the bride’s psyche, the beastly husband represents her innermost desires, the truth of her heart, and a spirit freed from the expectations of her society. He is her animus, her missing wild masculine. If she transforms him into a man, then she will tame his wild nature, bringing him to heel under the boot of the patriarchy. Choosing the human form and rejecting the beast means rejecting her own psychological needs. It would be just another form of psychic dismemberment.

Fortunately and unusually, each of these modern brides chooses her beastly husband without demanding he transform. When Osha finally agrees to become Qimir’s apprentice, she takes his hand under the willow tree, clasping the newly-bled lightsaber between them. A few scenes later, this wedding imagery is repeated when they hold hands over the saber again, this time looking into a sunrise/set. Notably, at the moment they “marry” under the willow tree, Qimir is wearing his beastly helmet with rows of menacing, wolfish teeth. He has not come to the light side or shed his Dark Side persona, but Osha has embraced him anyway without fear. And while they might not both be healed (yet), they are more whole together than they were apart.

When her efforts to cure Guildford of his Ethianism repeatedly fail, Jane begins to suspect that his “condition” cannot be cured at all. But listening to her Ethian friends Susanna and Archer finally convinces her that the truth is Guildford doesn’t NEED to be healed - being an Ethian is who he is, and it’s nothing to fear. Unfortunately, Guildford still associates his beastly form with his mother’s death, so he is unable to accept it as Jane encourages, and flees. After a near-death experience, he uses his equine speed to return to the castle just as Jane is deposed and captured. As our heroes battle toward the end, Guildford comes to learn that there are many other proud Ethians, and that his family loves and accepts him in any form.

Still, he’s unable to transform at will, and when Mary captures him and sentences both husband and wife to death, it seems their story may end in tragedy. But as Guildford has been struggling to accept himself, Jane too has been battling with her own conscience. Does she renounce Guildford to save herself? Use her wits to kill the guard and escape? Bend to her mother’s manipulation? Jane confronts each temptation, and ultimately chooses to face death rather than betray Guildford or herself. But when her Ethian friends (the wild instinct) appear to disrupt the execution, our heroine seizes the opportunity to rescue Guildford. Unable to free him from the burning pyre, she confesses her love for him, and they kiss amid the flames.

Fire is often a herald of transformation, burning away illusions to reveal the truth. And when Jane and Guildford exchange their vows in this symbolic marriage ceremony, Guildford’s fears and illusions are finally burned away. Now that his bride has accepted his beastly form, he can accept it too, and so he at last transforms at will into a horse so that they can escape. Their story ends with them married and whole before the sunrise.

Among our modern heroines, Mira is the boldest in her embrace of the beastly husband. Offered yet again as a bride to Igor, she realizes that this is not what she wants, and casts off the tether from her boat. She declares “I love the Dragon!” using the name of her husband’s animal form rather than his human name. Then, she sings the song that will call the dragon to her, and he appears to carry her away again.

But their story is not over yet! Earlier in the story, Arman told Mira of how he loses control when in dragon form, and that dragons are compelled to reproduce by burning maidens to death and retrieving their offspring from the ashes. Returning to the island with her a second time, the dragon drops her on the altar and prepares to spew fire, but Mira lunges up and kisses him. This act of love, even when he is a monster, stuns the beastly husband. Again, Mira declares her love and kneels before him, saying she does not wish to be parted. We might expect the animal husband to transform in this moment, but instead he lays his fearsome head in her lap as a lover. Their story ends with a child and a flight in the sky, silhouetted by the sun just like the other couples.

Each bride, when confronted with the option to return to the patriarchal limits of her childhood, chose instead an act of love and acceptance for her wild masculine. This embrace helped the beastly husband to accept his whole self, and he is healed without having to cut off the wild parts of himself.

What Does It Mean?

Again, this story is so rare in world folklore that it’s difficult to even find examples. On fleeting occasions that the woman chooses an untransformed beast, it is presented as a cautionary tale. These women are framed as a danger to the community for their bestial impulses and abandonment of the social order, much like witches who were said to consort with the devil. It was certainly never presented as a happy ending, insofar as we can tell from written accounts.

So what does the emergence of this tale mean for our culture? I would argue that this is just the latest step in our ongoing reckoning with historic gender roles, as well as renegotiating with other forms of systemic oppression. People of all genders are pressured to reject a part of ourselves, cutting us off from our own truth and desires that run counter to the enforced social order. We must not challenge patriarchy, must not embrace different gender expressions, must not blur established hierarchies of power, must not find joy and power in our identities, and so on.

This enforced denial does tremendous damage to everyone caught in the system, and so through story, we dream our way to escape. We dream of embracing the dark, wild parts of ourselves, of flying free on a spaceship or a dragon or enchanted horseback, and of being totally loved for who we are.

It’s clear patriarchy is still fighting back against this emancipation of the wild feminine and wild masculine, given that both The Acolyte and My Lady Jane were canceled not long after their release. In the case of The Acolyte in particular, there was a sustained campaign from its announcement to harass and silence the creators. Demoralizing as this phenomenon may be, it’s important to remember WHO ultimately owns these stories:

“Fanfiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk.

-Henry Jenkins, NYT 1997

Ah, an oldie-but-goodie. But Dr. Jenkins is right. Corporations may greenlight, film, release, and then cancel these stories, but ultimately they belong to the people. We take from these tales what speaks to us, leave what does not, and then retell them ourselves in fanfiction, in art inspired by the stories, and in lessons we pass on to our friends and families. If the embrace of the wild masculine speaks to you, let the story take root in your own life. Do you know someone who needs to be embraced, just as they are? Do you need to accept the parts of yourself that society tells you to hate? Do you want to be free, healed, and whole?

If so, then let these stories show you how, and tell more like them. Embrace the beast, and find your joy.

Sources:

Beauty and the Beast Tales From Around the World by Heidi Anne Heiner

In Search of the Swan Maiden: A Narrative on Folklore and Gender by Barbara Fass Leavy

And a relevant song for you, as a treat:

Women Who Run With the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype by Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Ph.D.

[audreyscribes]

Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS:

🍇DIONYSUS; God of Wine making, fertility, theater, festivity, and insanity. 🎭

author's note: I had a sudden idea about writing some headcanons Camp Halfblood demigods being claimed and what it's like for each respective god and cabin, followed by a small blurb afterwards. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! The order is not in order of the cabin numbers. [PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]

You get claimed in an untypical manner. You heard of demigods waiting for a sign of their godly parent claiming them, with a glowing symbol above their head. Instead, when you get introduced to the camp members, Mr. D appears carrying a can of diet coke and casually states “No need to put them in the Hermes’ cabin. They're one of mine's”

Cue the record scratch. This immediately brings a lot of confusion and gossip. Many eyes look between you and Mr. D who doesn't seem bothered at all. You saw Chiron sigh and place his hand to his face, giving your godly father a disappointed headshake. Then you hear Castor and Pollux yell that they have a new sibling that they didn't even know about?!

You get a lot of looks of sympathy and jealousy. You don't figure out why until a little bit later on. Chiron fills you in with a reassuring voice but also speaks with an exasperated tone to Dionysus 

Although you guys can't make wine or touch anything alcohol related, you did inherit Dioynsus' wine making skills. This includes also being good at making infused drinks or mixing drinks that range from mixing soda flavours together to making your tea blend. Even if the flavours shouldn't work together or whatever the drink type you're making, you just can. You are your own personal barista.

Putting this first and out of the way, you're both in a blessed and awkward situation where you are able to see and interact with your godly parent. Mr. D tries to treat you like every other demigod in Camp Halfblood, and that makes it awkward when you don't know if you should call him “Dad” or “Mr. D”, but at the same time, you know you have it better then others. 

It doesn't mean Mr. D doesn't keep an eye out. When you dedicate your offerings to the gods and look at him when you do it, you can just see Dionysus’ face soften and his eyes have a hint of affection. 

Don't ask how you or your other half-siblings came to be if Mr. D was sentenced to Camp Halfblood. You won't get an answer from but at least you know you're not alone and the twins are glad to have a baby sibling. Get ready for the youngest sibling treatment. 

Dionysus is the God of Theatre so you have a theatrical flare. Even if you're introverted, you're not exempt; this can be applied in how you do certain things or be rather convincing at times. If you're extroverted, well, you're automatically the Theatre kid. 

This turns out to be rather useful in events like Capture the Flag in a state of mania. When the heat of the battle starts to get to you, you feel your godly parent's power begin to rise in you and you can use that theaters flair to rouse your teammate's spirits up. You can also get a bit maniac and effect your teammates and enemies alike and become rather terrifying. 

You have a bit of a green thumb so you can find some solace with the Demeter kids. However, unlike the Demeter kids who can just make plants grow and flourish, your green thumb only really applies to plants you have an interest in like Dionysus with his grapes…or now strawberries. Regardless, you can keep a houseplant alive at least. 

Aside from a few very selected people within Camp, you're one of the few people who has seen Mr.D's true form. Not his godly form or the Mr. D you've seen, but the form he usually shows in front of mortals. Then it becomes very obvious how your other parent became so enamoured. You thank him silently for taking up his current form because you’re not going to be ready to hear about Mr. D being a DILF.

“Welcome to Cabin 12!” greeted Castor and Pollux as they opened the door to the cabin. You looked inside and saw how lived in the cabin was. It was clear the twins didn't expect to have another sibling and judging by the absolute shock that your shared father was supposed to be stuck in Camp, they really didn't expect him to have another mortal child.   

You also noticed on one of their nightstands there were stacks of Coke and Pepsi, each belonging to one of the beds. There were copious amounts of it, and you wonder if being a child of Dionysus was a prerequisite of having a drink as your go-to drink. Like wine fo Dionysus…though you heard he had to switch to Diet Coke due to his punishment. 

“Yeah, sorry for the whole…mess,” said Castor as he looked sheepish. “Pollux and I weren't expecting anyone else to be here, especially since it's been so long since we've first arrived. And you know, our dad, being, well-”

Pollux cleared his throat, “What Castor means, despite everything, we're thrilled to have a baby sibling. We've always been together so we're not that alone, but every now and again, we kind of get envious of the other cabins and having other siblings.”

You smiled when the door is knocked and a new bunk bed is being brought in, Castor and Pollux grinned at you. “Come on, let's get your stuff and space ready, and let's go see our dad.”

[kentofication]

% — kokushibo & fem!reader ] — 0.7k+

❝ explicit content # cockdrunk!reader # petnames # unprotected sex # riding # aftercare # dom!kokushibo x sub!reader ❞

“that’s it love, just like that . . .” he muttered under his breath as you rode him to your heart’s content. you had been in this position ever since he came home. he appeared to be in a bad mood, but once you made eye contact with him, his expression was lustful. there you were, with your hands placed on his shoulders to give a little bit of extra strength every time you sunk and rose on his cock. you looked down to see your juices flowing under you, sliding down his dick, onto his balls, and onto the sheets. you knew that you would have to wash those after you were finished.

you didn’t know how much more of this you could take. he had already ripped five orgasms out of you—at least you think so—and you felt a sixth one making its appearance. all of his eyes were slanted, some of them appeared closed as he watched your breast bounce up and down everytime you sunk down his length.

his eyes were filled with lust, an ongoing lust as he forced your chest against his face. you were shocked by the sudden repositioning, as you wrapped your arms around kokushibo’s neck. you halted your movements for a second, but a slap on your ass brought you back to reality. “keep riding, slut.” he commanded in a harsh tone, taking your nipple into his mouth. he began to swirl his tongue around the erect bud as he sucked on it like a suction cup until it was rock hard. he gave it a little tug using his teeth as he felt your body jerk back because of the ministration. he did the same to the other nipple as he received the same reaction from when he did the previous one.

some drool started to seep out of your mouth, making its way down your chin and onto your chest. kokushibo took it as a sign that your brain was turning into mush. you were too dumb to even have the decency to suck the spit back into your mouth. he chuckled as he decided to tear a last orgasm out of you. he wrapped his arms around your waist as he dug his feet into the mattress. you took notice of this formation as you buried your head into the crook of his neck quickly.

kokushibo began his onslaught of your pussy to his own pleasure. his balls were meeting your ass at an insane speed as he felt your walls constrict around his hardened length. kokushibo couldn’t help but chuckle when he felt you biting on his shoulder due to the immense pleasure. he kissed away your tears as he continued to thrust in and out of your wet heat. 

he started to breathe a bit heavier now, sweat trickling down his forehead and down his face. this was a sign that he was also near his end. his thrusts started to grow sloppier and more needier. his lustful expression slowly started to fade away as it turned into a possessive one. kokushibo produced one more thrust before he emptied himself inside of you, painting your walls with his fertile seed. 

you both were panting with exhaustion—you a little bit more than him—as you started to fall asleep on his chest. kokushibo felt you lose consciousness and he slowly slid from underneath you in order to go run a hot bath in order to soothe your sore body. he carried you bridal style into the bathroom as he gently put your body under the warm, soapy water. he began taking a rag and wiping off all the sweat and bruises you endured. 

you slowly started to gain consciousness as you planted a kiss on kokushibo’s cheek. his face started to heat up from your affection—even though he blamed it on the bathroom being too warm. “i love you so much. you know that?” you asked, placing another kiss on his cheek. kokushibo let out a deep chuckle, “of course i know that. what kind of man would i be if i didn’t?” you both laughed as it came to a halt with a deep kiss. a kiss filled with love for each other. a kiss that would never be shared with another besides you two. you started to drift back to sleep again with the help of the hot water soothing your body. kokushibo planted a kiss on your forehead. “i love you more than i love myself, dearest.” 

originally wrote and published by @kentofication

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (19/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, unprotected sex, targcest stuff, kind of role-play, smut, the angst, nightmares ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Our son will have my eyes.

Helaena saw me holding him in my arms.

They will have a child.

This thought burned in his chest like fire – the knowledge that, though he did not know when, his male offspring, his first-born son, the heir to the Iron Throne would be born, brought him relief.

He felt a sense of pride at the thought – he, unlike his sister-whore, would have legitimate descendant from the righteous bed, from his wife, from Targaryen blood.

He tried to push away the thought that he would have to share his cousin with someone, focusing on the fact that there was a future for them together – he knew his hāedar was worried about whether she was fertile, and his sister's vision must surely have reassured and comforted her.

This information, her words, pleased him so much that his rage at what Daemon had done passed – he found it amusing that his uncle thought he would fall into his trap, leaving his wife and her dragon at his fingertips.

They spent that night together in one of the chambers – the wood in the hearth was so wet that the servants were unable to light a fire.

His wife walked around the room, restless, and stopped at last, looking up – he watched out of the corner of his eye as she slowly walked over to the dried herbs piled up over the windows, hung there for sure to mask the unpleasant smell of dampness.

"Hand me your dagger." She said, extending her arm to him, wrinkling her brow as if something about this sight disturbed her.

He rose from his chair, startled, and slid out of his scabbard the dagger with the head of Vhagar, turning it in his hand, handing her the hilt. She took it from his grip and cut the rope holding the flowers together, looking at them closely – she leaned over and sniffed them, as if pondering something.

"This is a blue holly. My nanny used to show me these herbs in the meadow. She said you musn't sniff them because their pollen makes you daydream." She said, throwing him an anxious look full of tension.

When they lifted their heads, they noticed dozens of bouquets of herbs tied one next to the other, as if someone had specially prepared them and hung them up so that they wouldn't draw anyone's attention.

"They were also in the corridor. And in the room where we spoke this morning," she muttered, "from a distance they look like lavender. I'm not surprised that people think this fortress is haunted – someone who is exposed to so many of them at once surely experiences hallucinations. Perhaps the bodies of servants and lords who have lived here for years have managed to accustom themselves and are no longer affected, but we, my husband, will not experience a peaceful sleep here."

"Guards!" He called out towards the door – one of the men stepped inside and bowed to him.

"Your Grace. My Lady."

"Get those fucking weeds off the ceiling and make sure they're gone from the whole fortress. Does anyone here practice herbalism? Any Maester?" He asked coolly, wondering if this was another part of the trap Daemon had set for them.

What else awaited them within these walls?

The man shook his head.

"There is no Maester in this fortress, Your Grace, but there is a woman they call a witch. Apparently she practises magic. She's in the dungeon with the other prisoners." The man said, and he nodded.

"Make sure she stays locked up. Tie her hands and gag her mouth. I will speak with her on the morrow." He ordered.

"No." His wife said. "I wish to do it, lēkia. Let me."

He pressed his lips together and nodded, telling the man wordlessly to leave the chamber, which he did after a moment.

He ran the tip of his tongue over his lower lip, trying to control his irritation and choose his words properly.

"Once again you undermine my words in the presence of others." He remarked dryly.

"She is going to try to seduce you." She said.

He chuckled and shook his head in disbelief, thinking that she had allowed herself to be driven by simple feminine jealousy.

"Don't be foolish." He replied.

"I would if I were her. She'll play with you, but she won't tell you anything. But maybe she'll confide in the other woman." She stated, making him regret his hasty assessment.

He remained silent, concluding that she was probably right, and he had no time for this – he needed to send word to his grandfather as soon as possible and communicate with him as to their further actions regarding Daemon.

He decided that he could leave this matter to her.

"Ser Criston will accompany you on this visit. I do not want this woman to cast a spell on the mother of my child." He said.

The night was chilly, and the lack of warmth that a fire lit in the hearth would have given them meant that although they had slept bare in the Red Keep, now they lay snuggled together – she dressed in a thick nightgown, he in a shirt and breeches, covered by several layers of furs.

"Stay close to me through the night." He whispered, not wanting her to get cold.

He kissed her forehead when she nodded and breathed a sigh, thanking the gods in his mind for bestowing upon him such an attentive, tender, devoted wife.

He realised that their marriage was successful.

He woke up feeling that she wanted to get up – he frowned in displeasure, putting his arm around her tighter, pulling her close again.

"– where are you going? –" He muttered, not opening his eyes, thinking, still sunk half asleep, that he was comfortable in that position and wanted to snuggle into her back again.

He heard her helpless sob, as if she was choking, her hands gripped his arms tightly, causing him pain – he hissed and raised himself up on his elbow, shaking her, terrified.

"– hāedar – hāedar, wake up –" He mumbled, seeing that she was whooping with her tears, her eyelids clenched, her eyebrows arched in horror and distress.

Her body shuddered and jerked up as she suddenly opened her eyes – she looked at him, but it seemed to him that she didn't recognise him, because she started screaming before throwing herself around his neck.

"– lēkia! – lēkia, oh gods –" She whimpered, digging her fingers into his back, snuggling into him as tightly as if she wanted to melt into him – he embraced her close and pressed her to him, kissing her temple, rocking her like a small child, trying to soothe her.

"– easy – you are safe – your husband is by your side –" He whispered in pain.

She took a breath and cried out loud with some kind of relief.

"– breath, sweet girl – breath –" He repeated quietly, again and again placing tender, warm kisses on her forehead.

"– I dreamt I woke up and you weren't here – I could hear only the sound of the water, all around me complete darkness –" She whined, and he nodded.

Subconsciously she was afraid that he might really leave her.

That he would have fled to King's Landing like a coward, abandoning her.

"– it was just a bad dream, hāedar – nothing more –" He assured her, but instead of calming down she moaned loudly on the verge of hysteria, wiping her cheeks, all red from tears.

"– and then your cold hand grabbed me, as if – as if you were drowning – I tried to pull you out, but you were too heavy – and then you let me go –" She choked out with difficulty in a breaking voice.

He took her hair from her face and settled down so that he could look at her, stroking her head.

"Hāedar. We still live in fear of what the future will bring. I too am haunted by grim thoughts, visions of how you could perish trying to protect me in the sky." He whispered hesitantly, and she took a loud breath, as if gathering her courage, as if she wanted to say something more.

"– Helaena – then, when you walked into my chamber – she said she could only see me and the child, but you were not with us – she said she could only hear the sound of the water –" She mumbled and burst out crying again, louder this time, covering her mouth with her hand, as if the words spoken aloud scared her even more.

He froze, looking at her in disbelief, feeling his heart pounding like mad – her words filled him with a cold, unpleasant discomfort, but on the other hand, it was such a general description that it could mean anything.

He could have been close to the sea, in Dragonstone, to strike the final blow against Rhaenyra and secure their descendant's inheritance.

He could have been patrolling King's Landing while his wife looked after their child to keep them safe.

Helaena's words stuck in her head, and the situation they found themselves in compounded her fear, he consoled himself with an effort, trying to grasp onto his sanity.

It meant nothing.

"You said yourself how these herbs affect us. After all, we were around them for hours before you noticed them. It's certainly their fault and what you found out. Your heart is suffering." He whispered, tentatively slipping his large hand under the material of her nightgown, placing it where he could feel a gentle, quick pounding.

She sighed and looked up at him, placing her hand over his, as if something in his touch, his gaze, his caring tenderness and his soothing, calm voice brought her relief.

He kissed her – it was a slow, gentle, moist caress, her mouth wonderfully warm under his – he heard her purr of delight, felt her lips part before his, allowing his slick tongue to slide lazily between her teeth.

"– mmm –" She murmured – he grinned when he felt her spread her legs in front of him in some involuntary, natural reflex of trust.

He thought he loved the way her body reacted to his touch as his hand from her cheek slid down her neck lower, to her full breasts, and then further down to her stomach before finally reaching the warmth between her thighs.

She sighed and clasped her hands in his hair as his fingers collected the moisture that had managed to spill out of her, circling around her little pearl – he felt her body quiver with pleasure, her breath heavy and raspy, the tips of her fingers digging into his back.

"– lēkia –" She gasped, throwing her head back, rolling her hips in rhythm with his gentle caresses. He felt his erection swell painfully in his breeches at this sight, pushing against her thigh, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

"– I'm with you – alive and warm – hard – can't you feel it? –" He whispered in a trembling voice – he heard her moan softly, nodding, rubbing her hip against his long manhood.

"– I feel it – I need you –" She muttered like a small child.

He did not let her wait – he lay down between her legs, spreading the material of his trousers to the sides, releasing his throbbing length. He teased her for a moment, running the tip of it over her hot, leaking slit, looking down at her, raised on his hands.

"– please –" She urged him, desperate and impatient – a low, long grunt of pleasure escaped their lips as he pushed against her flesh, slowly forcing his way into her plump, moist interior.

"– yes –" She whispered, and he kissed her, pressing his thirsty lips against hers in a soft, passionate caress, filling her to the brim with himself.

They sighed as he began rocking his hips back and forth, with lazy, slow thrusts building the tension in their veins – their breaths became heavy and loud, their bodies pounding against each other rhythmically with the sticky smacks of their exposed skin.

"– if I were a courtesan – would you choose me over the others? –" She asked suddenly, startling him completely – he involuntarily chuckled, stopping moving, looking at her in disbelief.

"– what kind of question is it? –" He exhaled, looking her straight in the eyes, seeing even in the darkness that she was red with embarrassment and probably regretted that those words had left her mouth.

"– would you have thought I was beautiful? –" She whispered, stroking his cheeks with her smooth, small fingers.

He snorted and shook his head, grinning under his breath, wondering what he should answer, feeling his manhood throb hard inside her at the thought.

Instead of Madam, she, a young girl lying on sheets soaked in perfume to mask the smell of the other couples before them. She would be dressed in a robe of fine, expensive material, meant for his eyes – for the Prince. She would be freshly bathed, her long, dark curls would be arranged in waves around her head, her doe eyes looking at him full of curiosity and confidence.

"– I would certainly delight in the spirit of your beauty – but I would not choose you –" He said at last.

He saw that his words caused her pain – her lips tightened and then opened in an anxious breath, her eyebrows arched in an expression of sadness and disappointment.

"– why? –" She asked regretfully.

He sighed, with a soft, gentle thrust of his hips pushing his erection into her heat, wanting to feel her with all of himself – he leaned over her so that the tips of their noses almost touched, his thumb running over her silky cheek.

"– the fear of your judgement of me would not allow me to experience the pleasure of the act –" He confessed at last, placing a tender, lingering kiss on her jaw.

He heard her swallow hard, her hands stroking his shoulders as if she imagined it was really happening, and she tried to comfort him.

"– after all, you know that I would never mock you – that I would never hurt you –" She whispered, and he closed his eyes.

"– I wouldn't have known it then – would I? –" He asked, feeling that he couldn't last any longer – he slid out of her halfway and slammed hard into her, then again and again, making their hips bump against each other.

"– ah –" She cried out, throwing her head back, crossing her legs over his back – he gripped her buttocks in his hands, surrendering completely to his masculine, primal desire to take a woman, panting loudly along with her.

"– I would desire you from afar – I would imagine myself taking you while another lay beneath me –" He gasped out, feeling that for some reason this thought and these words aroused him even more – his erection was so hard that it almost caused him pain, the tension in his lower abdomen unbearable.

"– I'd watch you from afar – I'd beg in my mind for at least one word, one look of yours –" She mewled beneath him – he grunted out loud in pleasure feeling how hard her slick walls began to pulsate around his length, clearly as close to peak as he was.

Their bodies snuggled into each other, their fingers tightened on their hot, bare skin as he pressed her against the bed, the frame of which began to creak beneath them.

"– please, my Prince – take me, take me, take me –" She begged, and he sank into their fantasy, imagining that he had done it, that he had finally taken the one he wanted and no other.

"– mmm – fuck – g-gods –" He exhaled, panting heavily and closed his eye, feeling a sudden, wonderful relief when his warm seed filled her womb – her sweet, surprised moan of pleasure and the greedy, drawn-out squeezes of her spasming cunt told him that his lover had come as quickly as he had.

He collapsed on top of her, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart, cuddling his face into her cheek – they were embracing each other loosely, like a couple of strangers who had just fucked each other.

He opened his eye and swallowed hard, noticing a familiar pretty face, a face he had been looking at for several moons now.

His hand stroked her hot, sweaty cheek as she looked up at him and smiled in a way that only she could.

He wasn't sure what had just happened between them, but he enjoyed it.

He didn't know, however, if he should admit it, so he kept a safe silence.

"If you paid me for every fulfillment of yours that I was the cause of, I would be the richest courtesan in Westeros." She said lightly, amused, her voice filled with innocent sweetness.

He involuntarily huffed and shook his head.

"To your misfortune, you are my wife and must perform this duty deprived of my golden coins." He scoffed, clenching his fingers in her hair – she murmured when his thumb ran over her lower lip.

"Open." He ordered, and she obediently followed his command – as his finger slid deep between her teeth, she closed her eyes and began to suck.

He gasped when he felt her slick tongue swirl around the tip of his thumb, exactly as she did with the pink, delicate head of his long cock when she satisfied him with her mouth.

"– you would make a perfect whore – I would take you to the Red Keep as my servant and fuck you every night –" He hummed – she purred like a kitten, looking up at him softly, his finger slipping out from between her puffy lips with a loud, sticky plop.

"– your mother and wife would be delighted –" She exhaled – he closed her mouth with his own, not wanting her to blaspheme any more and gripped her hips in his hands again, repeating everything from the beginning.

He was awakened by the sound of rain outside the window – when he opened his eyelid, he saw that although the sun had certainly risen, everything around him was grey because of the clouds that stretched across the sky.

He sighed quietly, feeling a strange kind of discomfort, though he didn't know for what reason – he blinked, looking down to see that their bodies were still joined, despite the fact that his manhood deep inside her was completely soft now.

He was warm and comfortable – snuggled into her back, sunken into her, embracing her at the waist, he felt comforted.

He tried to recall his dream – in it, he was in a brothel again, however, he had not taken Sylvi, but some other girl – he then spoke to her about taking her to the Red Keep.

What had occurred to him to think of such things?

He swallowed hard, assuring himself that it meant nothing – he leaned over to look at Floris's face, but although the colour of her hair was similar, her face looked completely different.

He closed his eye, feeling his mind finally completely awake, and sighed loudly in wonderful relief, realising that he had not married Lord Baratheon's daughter, or been to a brothel, or taken anyone to the Red Keep.

He was in Harrenhal with his cousin.

He felt that he was suddenly in the perfect mood and clung to her like a small child, burying his face in her shoulder.

She purred contentedly, stroking his skin with her hands, continuing to sleep.

His wife was his mistress.

Before they ate anything in the morning, one of the servants tasted everything they had been served.

"You may leave." He said at last, and the boy nodded.

"Your Grace. My Lady."

He sighed, reaching for the bread, thinking in the back of his mind that their meal was meagre, but they could not eat like kings, forcing his soldiers to starve.

He ordered that the portion of food meant for him and his wife be distributed equally among his army so that their supplies would last longer.

"I will speak with the Witch of Harrenhal today." She communicated to him while eating bread with a piece of smoked sausage.

"I don't like this." He replied.

"Criston Cole will be with me."

"What if she tries to put a…curse on you?" He asked uncertainly, feeling how silly and naïve those words sounded.

And yet, dragons were an effect of magic, so it wasn't impossible.

"She won't. I won't give her a reason to do it." She said lightly, rising from her chair, wiping her hands in a white cloth.

"I'll return to you as soon as I've finished." She assured him – she walked over to him and leaned in, placing a lingering, warm kiss on the top of his head.

His hand grasped hers before she cast him a reassuring, calm look and turned away, disappearing after a moment behind the door, where Ser Criston was already waiting for her.

He sighed heavily and tilted his head back, closing his eye, feeling anxious.

The silence before the storm.

He waited patiently for her, meanwhile in his letter informing his grandfather of what had happened and of his decisions.

Daemon returned to Dragonstone, stripping Harrenhal of its supplies beforehand. He made a mockery of us, but I will not leave the fortress unprotected. Send us food as soon as possible and convince Helaena to be on guard, ready for enemy attack at any moment. Prepare for a possible siege. I will try, together with my wife, to draw the Lords of the Riverlands and the Vale to our side. Aemond

He was sure she was the one who had walked into his chamber when the door opened suddenly.

"Your Grace. Word from Dragonstone has arrived."

He froze, looking at his servant in disbelief, feeling a drop of cold sweat on his back, his heart pounding hard in his chest. He nodded and held out his hand to him – the boy walked up to him and handed him a small, rolled piece of parchment.

"You may leave." He said coldly, and the boy bowed to him and left without another word.

He bit his lower lip, knowing that whatever he read inside, it would not be good news.

Would Rhaenyra tell him that she had just burned King's Landing?

That she is sitting on the Iron Throne?

That his mother, his sister, his grandfather are dead?

He unrolled the parchment and swallowed hard, seeing that only two sentences was written on it.

The Gods Eye, tonight. Face me like a true man, nephew.