#by misbehaving children in public

[kstarlitchaotics]

Every time when I see a dog in a public era where people KNOW they're not supposed to be there and have the nerve to try and take away children's space a part of me dies a little

I hate the “we should have child free cafes but not dog free cafes” and the “kids shouldn’t be out in public” shit that’s getting popular again cause whenever you ask them why they hate kids they say their loud annoying etc.

Just because another person is inconvenient for you doesn’t mean they don’t get to exist in public.

[theorphicangel]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 | 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

wc: 2.2k

tags: heian era!sukuna, true form! sukuna, reader is a villager and wears a kimono, gn!reader, mentions of cannibalism (brief), eventual fluff, strangers to lovers??, threat of death, reader has a sense of humor, reader risks life for a peach (real),

synopsis: stumbling in a random field, the gods have granted you the luxury of discovering a rare peach tree and it's all yours for the takings. at least that's what you're mistaken to think before you're confronted by the king of curses himself. coming close to death, you're forbidden to ever return.

it's just a shame you're incapable of listening to rules.

part one | part three | bonus scene

Part 2: Committing the sin

“...And I told him to stick his peaches where the sun doesn’t shine.”

“And then what?!”

“Well, he was so shocked that I spoke to him in that manner and his jaw fell wide open. Then I told him that I wasn’t scared of him and informed him that the tree was public property.”

“What did he say back?” Multiple sets of eyes peer into your face with eagerness and pure excitement. 

You pause for a moment –  for dramatic effect. With a deep breath, you speak again.

“He said, ‘do you not care for your life?’

“What did you say back?! What did you tell him?!” A dark haired child rose in front of you, his eyes wide. 

“I said I wouldn’t regret dying after tasting those appetizing peaches, so if he killed me right there and  then I would nonetheless be happy and satisfied.”

The children sit in a small circle around you, some expressing their glee aloud as their faces were filled with awe of your encounter with the king of curses.

“I squared up to him, unafraid to fight and he walked away first.” You let out a laugh. “His tail was between his legs like a dog,  I doubt he’ll ever come back to that tree!”

“Does he actually have a tail?” a child asked. 

“I thought he had 6 arms.” another child spoke, curiosity filling their tone. 

“I thought he had 9?!”

“No, there was no tail. The king of curses only has 4 arms and really ugly eyes.”

“How many?”

“Four!” You reply and you giggle as the children shudder. “All the better to see you with, I think. Very scary.”

One child says, “I don’t ever want to see him!”

“He’s a monster!” Another spoke. 

“Well, you won’t ever meet the monster if you all promise to obey your parents and not misbehave?”

They nod diligently, hanging onto your every word. One by one they disperse, breaking off into their own stories about the king of curses now based on the new information you had told. 

Among them, your eyes fell upon Miko. She stood alone, waiting for the others to drift away before speaking. You’ve known her to be the shyest girl in the village, with the other kids she doesn’t seem to speak or interact. You usually find her off on her own in the corner, playing on her own in a corner. 

Recently, you’ve taken her under your wing. Whilst her parents work away in the village, you made sure that not all of her hours are spent entirely alone. Interacting with her, you take her along with you on your errands or play along with her games. Even in your company she’s still a quiet kid but you don’t mind as long as she has someone to be with. 

She waits until the majority of children have gone, their conversation too loud to overhear her question. It slips out so quietly you almost think you’ve missed it but you manage to read her lips. 

“Can you get me one?” Miko looks down at her sandals, shy and timid.

You hum, wanting to know what she’s referring to. 

“A peach.” She speaks again, her small lips moving. Again her voice is quiet and her eyes are glued to the ground. “Could you get me one?”

Your heart yearns at the sight. You knew all too well that her family doesn’t have much. They barely manage to get the bare necessities monthly, so the simple act of indulging in the taste of a sweet ripe peach wouldn’t just be a luxury but equate to rich reward for her entire family and their hard work.

Crouching, you meet her eyes. 

“If you’re not scared of the king of curses could you do it?” She mumbles. “If you’re sure that he won’t come back.”

A small part of you hesitates, maybe your exaggeration went too far. The truth of the story weighs heavy in your gut and a part of you considers confessing your dishonesty. But just one glimpse into Miko’s warm coffee eyes and you melt again. You couldn’t break her heart and say no. It would kill you.  

Your gut churns as you mull over your answer. 

There was no part in your body capable of telling her ‘no’ so the corners of your lips flip up into a smile. 

“Of course, I can.”

/

The king of curses is away at battle. For the next two weeks to be presumed. 

Him and his army traveled past the village, heading down with their carts and horses. Obviously, you weren’t present and chose to  hide away to watch from afar. Even from a large distance you couldn’t help but feel his presence, his overwhelming aura seeping into every crevice of your skin.

But at least now you had your chance.

Just one week after his departure, you gained up the courage to return to the forbidden peach tree. You’d hope no one would be present at the estate, perhaps a few servants here and there, but you doubt they would commit to the long walk to the edge of the estate for a mere peach tree.

With a large basket in hand, you set out as early as you could, the sunrise warming up your cheeks. Rays of orange and red mix in the sky, the sunlight fixing its spot in the blue summer sky. 

You retrace your steps you had previously taken a few weeks prior, straying away from the original path. Again, the grass blades tickle at your ankles. Certain that the king of curses has disappeared, you take your time through the field watching as different species of birds fly over your head and how the bees keep obedient to their flowers, collecting their sweet nectar. 

Soon the shadow of the tree comes into view. 

At first glance it seems to be unchanged, however a new difference you picked up on is the range of new peaches available. With adrenaline running, you don’t hesitate to pluck the peaches, multiple at a time. In a span of five minutes your basket is already half full, emerging from your task. You start with the peaches which are easier to reach before dealing with the dreadful task of resorting to your tippy toes.

Before you know it, your eyes are caught once upon a scarlet red peach, perfectly ripe and round. Of course you have to get it, this one would be especially for Miko you think.

The only problem which rose was that the peach was located on the highest branch, straining, it was only a few inches away from your fingertips.

“Almost—” you strain, your tongue pokes out the side of your mouth.

“Seems like insolent fools never learn.”

A rough voice echoes into the distance at the exact moment that you manage to pluck a peach from the highest branch.  At the sound of a gruff tone,  a shiver runs up your body and the peach falls from your hand, dropping to the grass and rolling away.

Just as you felt previously, a menacing aura came over you, washing over your body like a heavy tide. Your temperature drops and your mind freezes, his ever so familiar aura now hitting you like a slap to the face. 

Of course, you turn to find the king of curses standing behind you. Tall and treacherous, you cower away, dropping to your knees.

He’s back. One week earlier than expected. 

Bowing your head, your mind runs over the brutal image of his appearance. Blood stains over his body and skin, dry of course and scars litter his chest, shirtless in front of you. 

“I thought I warned you to stay away, did I not?”

You clear your throat before speaking, your voice shakes. “You did, my lord.”

“So why did you not heed my warning? Do you wish death upon yourself?”

“No my lord, I-” you cut yourself off, searching for words which fail to leave your lips. Your hesitation and silence only seems to aggravate Sukuna.

“Speak.” He orders.

“I wanted to bring peaches back for the villagers.”

Sukuna doesn’t speak again. Trembling, you keep your eyes down onto the grass. He must be eyeing your basket right now.

You were definitely going to die. This was it. You had gotten away with it before and by the gods he was not going to let you leave alive again. 

The king of curses wouldn’t make that same mistake twice. 

Suddenly you find your chin in his palm and he forces you to look up at him. His eyes are cold and deadly. No ounce of human empathy or compassion lingers in his pupils. 

“You wanted to bring some peaches back for the villagers.”

You nod, a quiet whisper leaving your lips. “Yes.”

“Pathetic.” He spat.

From then on you expected to feel some form of pain. You have heard multiple stories about his brutal killings, simply decapitating limbs of people without a single care. Some people say it’s best to be killed right away by the King of Curses rather than his cruel method of allowing his victims to bleed out and die slowly.

Your body freezes to expect a pinch of pain, a stab, a slice – anything, anything at all yet it doesn’t seem to hit you. Tilting your head upwards ever so slightly you notice a wound on the right side of his torso. . Blood, freshly red, drips down his side, staining his skin and clothes. 

“You’re injured.” It comes out as a murmur, pathetic and weak. 

Sukuna says nothing more as if he hadn’t heard you in the first place. You bow your head deeper, almost ashamed for pointing it out. Perhaps it would come across that you intercepted the King of curses as weak. A king having a deep wound is something that he wouldn’t want others to know. 

But— you could still use it as some sort of excuse. 

“It’ll get infected.” You speak again, gaining more confidence in your tone. “If you don’t clean it up soon.”

“I have taken care of it.” Sukuna speaks. “It’s just a scratch.“

You let out a scoff. “Barely, you’re bleeding out heavily.” 

“What’s it to you? It has nothing to do with you.” He snaps, his tone rising. 

“I have a speciality in helping people with wounds and illnesses. I could help you.” You raise your head slightly at your offer. You outstretch your hand towards his blood drenched clothes. 

“I do not like to be touched, I will heal myself.” 

You glance up at the king of curses, studying his face. For the first time you sense a feeling of exhaustion within Sukuna’s eyes, heavy lidded and tired. The king of curses was on the verge of passing out.

“I could help you–”

“I don’t need help from a thief.”

“A thief!?”

“The tree is on my property is it not?”

“I–”

“And this is the second time you have been caught stealing, correct?”

“My lord—”

“Correct?” His tone is rough, cutting you off with a sharpness that causes goosebumps to appear on your body. 

You say nothing, looking down at your feet. You can feel his eyes bore into you. “Pathetic human.” He mumbles.

You swallow, saying nothing more. Your hands turn into fists by your side. Just from your expression and energy Sukuna  feels your growing anger with every second that passes.

All of a sudden, the band snaps and you can’t hold in your emotions anymore. The next time you speak, you refuse to cover up your venomous tone.  

“And you’re just as pathetic as me if you can barely heal your own wound. You call yourself the king of curses for what?”

A silence comes after your words, not even the sound of rustling trees or tall grass can be heard. It takes no longer than a second for you to feel deep regret for your words. Similar to your first ever encounter with the king of curses, the fear of death looms upon you. 

If you thought he wouldn’t kill you the first time then he definitely will now. 

You await the moment for him to strike you. A pinch of pain, a slice, a beheading or even a stab to your stomach. Anything to disperse you as soon as possible. 

Instead of a violent action, he chooses to speak again with a challenging invite.

“So how would you suggest you would heal me?”

Did you hear him right?

You stammer, words failing to leave your mouth. “To heal you?”

He stares at you in contempt, “You said you knew how to take care of wounds, do you not?”

“I do.” 

“So…?” Sukuna raises a brow.

Your mind searches for a solution, malfunctioning under his venomous gaze. 

There’s a stream nearby, I could guide you to it so you can clean it.”

A pause.

“Where is this stream you think of?”

“Over there.” You point behind him.

“So be it.” He speaks in a gruff tone. “Lead the way”

You manage to get your feet whilst succumbing to a daze.

How have you managed to escape the punishment of death a second time from the King of curses?

Glancing behind you, the basket of peaches tempts you. There would be no point in taking it and running, you knew that he could kill you in an instant. The plump peaches would have to wait, for now you have to focus on surviving Sukuna.

You leave the basket behind.

thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

lmk if you would like to be tagged for part three!

[viktoriaashleyyx]

Why do some of us not *hate* Tamlin?

I am pro-tamlin, not pro feylin. I would prefer Tamlin to never have to deal with the NC ever again. If SJM never types his name out again I will be happy.

Tw: light mentions to DV, SA, and Divorce.

Feyre is written in a way that makes it feel like she is intentionally manipulating us against Tamlin to justify her leaving him the way she did, and to put Rhysand up on a pedestal.

The abrupt and sloppy way SJM handled Tamlins' character assassination induced my fight or flight. Let me explain:

My parents divorced when I was 4, and I had to learn, quickly, how to interpret people's true intentions and empathize with where they are coming from vs just blindly listening to someones account of what happened. My father got custody of us and would use the same elements against my mom that Feyre uses against Tamlin. I HAVE to read between the lines or I would fall to the intentional manipulation.

"She left me so she probably cheated" "he trapped me in the house" "she has a new boyfriend so she doesn't care about you anymore" "he hit me [when I was actively TRYING to get him to hit me to sway public opinion of him]"

Everytime Feyre left for the NC, she did so kicking and screaming. Every indication Tamlin could see was that she did NOT want to go with Rhys, until he gets a letter from her saying to not come looking for her that she doesn't want to be with him. Tamlin didn't know she could read or write. Had that been my love I would assume it was a ransom note too, written by someone else. Had she actually spent 1 hr winnowing to Tamlin, tell him face to face, then winnow back (with an escort) he MIGHT have gotten the hint.

A tithe was a weird thing to use to show how cruel Tamlin is, considering how 2/3 of the night court live in constant fear, children's bones are broken for misbehaving, the CoN are trapped there. SJM really showed us that she has no political knowledge what so ever. I barely started ACOFAS and when Feyres talking about the unnatural sum of her money, my first thought is "You don't amass that level of wealth without oppressing someone." Lucien said that Tamlin would be expected to hunt down those not able to pay the tithe, but when we get to Tamlins actual actions he just said "get it together in 3 days or pay double next time". In my initial reading, I interpreted it as another mask (like how Rhysand acts). Tamlin does this due to tradition, he is expected to act a certain way, but *I felt* he had no intention of acting out what he said. It was just a line he was expected to say to send the wraith away without others expecting the same.

Feyre and Tamlin were not right for eachother because they were not eachothers mates. People can exist fine separately, and be incredibly toxic together. From page 1 we see Feyres inherent inability to empathize with anyone, she has it bad, she has to hunt, therefore her sisters don't do anything. But she also can't cook, so who was preparing the meat she brought home? It gave me "housework isn't real work" vibes. Feyre also doesn't communicate very well, which would explain why a literal mind reader was able to help her better than Tamlin was. I saw Tamlin trying but not being able to help her because he couldn't read her mind.

Feyre didn't want to be trapped in a manor for a few hours while she was displaying manic behavior, but she condoned her sisters be trapped in the HOW for 6 weeks immediately after losing their lives. She condones the treatment of the people in Hewn city and supports the literal Jim Crow laws placed against them in Velaris when all they wanted was to leave. She condones and supports trapping Nesta in HoW after the war just to force Cassain on her so Feyre can play matchmaker.

Feyre is an inherently self centered sociopath. She can read minds and still can't develop a shred of empathy.

Just leave Tamlin alone. Damn.

[panic-attheplace]

TWD characters and why I think they'd get canceled in today's social media

Shane: kept re-posting blue lives matter stuff on his twitter, wouldn't stop calling women "females", told a lesbian she just hadn't met the right man

Rick: tried to defend Shane "he's a good man, he just says the wrong things sometimes."

Lori: being an out-of-touch mommy-blogger

Merle: said multiple slurs 💀 also probably posts rage-bait on his main

Daryl: got in twitter beef with a vegan because they called him out for hunting

Carol: Yelled at a child for misbehaving in public (the parents did not appreciate it)

Andrea: having a problematic boyfriend

Carl: tried to scam children on roblox

[babyspacebatclone]

Ok, that time my mom took me to the Emergency Room because my anemia was so bad I couldn’t walk??

She worked there.

Not that day, she wasn’t skipping a shift because her 39 year old daughter hid just how bad her chronic internal bleeding had gotten until Opps! Almost in a coma!!

But as I’m gradually gaining enough awareness that yes, this is bad…

(Partly due to the blood they were pumping in finally reaching my brain)

She’s chatting with everyone, teasing specific coworkers about doing their job right.

And poking at the blood transfusion machine, making it go faster…

…..

I was still the one to politely ask, “Um, is the tube turning red supposed to be hooked up to my needle?” on the second transfusion before it got on the sheets.

[fictionadventurer]

Figured if I was going to go on the Snow White rant, I needed to actually rewatch the Disney movie.

The opening credits are much more interesting when you know some of the names. The only women who got on the list were Dorothy and Hazel, but it was nice to see their names at least and know who they were.

That book is gorgeous. All the details of the calligraphy and illustrations and binding.

Wow, the Queen is so much creepier than I remember. The fact that using the magic mirror involves summoning a "slave" trapped in the mirror? Don't like that.

That peacock behind her throne, though? Stunning, fantastic, no notes.

I kind of love how the Queen forces Snow White to be a maid, and Snow White just...doesn't care at all. She's just scrubbing a floor and totally fine. Queen's obsessed with Snow White every minute of the day and Snow White doesn't think about her at all.

Sorry, I don't buy the romance at all. I know it's a fairy tale, but one song does not a life-changing romance make. (There was a version of the scene where the prince was going to rejoice over the fact that she loved him, which might have been too much, but it at least would have helped sell it.)

The scene of Snow running through the forest and then collapsing in tears did make me feel for her.

It seems like Snow White and the Queen are from a completely different movie from the dwarfs. They've got this whole high fantasy feud going on, meanwhile these guys are living in a sitcom.

The dwarfs were the best part. Forgot how cute those guys could be.

There was not enough story here. 75% of the running time is them trying to stretch this paper-thin story to feature length. There's a big long cleaning sequence. A big long sequence of the dwarfs figuring out who invaded their cottage. A big long introduction sequence. A big long washing-up sequence. Multiple extended gags involving a fly. All fun to animate, I'm sure, but not at all up to modern pacing standards.

(I'd kind of like to compare this to other escapist '30s musicals--is this kind of structure common for movies where the point is just to show up and escape the Depression for 90 minutes?)

As a kid, I had one of those sing-a-long videos with a bunch of Disney songs, and I did not realize that I had a deep emotional connection to it until "Heigh-Ho" made me instantly happy and the Silly Song unearthed memories I didn't even know I had.

A lot of the other songs kind of stink, ngl. There's a reason the washing-up song is not in the public consciousness.

Kind of out-of-line for Snow White to just show up at their house and treat them like misbehaving children.

The skeleton in the dungeon reaching for the water pitcher? Can't believe the movie went there.

(Then they drew too much attention to it and kind of wrecked it. But wow.)

I like that they give a valid reason that the Queen thought True Love's Kiss wasn't going to be a problem.

But the queen cackling over the fact that Snow White's going to be buried alive? When it comes to showing this movie to children, I'm not hesitating about Snow White as a female role model, I'm hesitating because it's dark.

(But also--why not just poison her? I get that living death/buried alive is a worse fate than just plain death, but if she's not actually dead, how does the Queen count as fairest in the land? Especially since she magically made herself as ugly as possible?)

They carved her name in the coffin! Just like the bed! They finally get to make her a bed and it's to lay her to rest! It's almost enough to make me tear up.

The castle in the clouds makes me think of heaven/resurrection imagery, which ties in interestingly to my take on it.

There is so much potential to flesh out this story in a live-action version. Since you can't fill up the runtime with comedy dwarf antics, there's so much space to flesh out the relationship between the prince and Snow White, and give texture to the feud between the Queen and Snow White, and to dig deep into Snow's sweet character and how it affects the dwarfs, which is why it stinks that they're going for just another Not Like Other Girls update.

[perfinn]

the heat that drives the light

aemond targaryen x tyrell!oc - part vi

wc: 4.4k

summary: aemond begins to scratch the surface of understanding his wife's family, and takes her to meet vhagar

cw: NSFW, semi-public sex, oral (f!receiving), sex in front of a dragon (she's sleeping)

masterlist, read on ao3, divider by saradika

Aemond can scarcely believe now that he spent so long agonising over whether he should lay with Cecily. There is little better, to him, than enjoying his wife every night and most mornings. He has found, though, there is but one detriment to sharing a bed with Cecily. A small thing, really, for most every other aspect of it is utter delight. That detriment comes in the irritating, furry form of Bud. Though he spends the night obediently in his own bed, the little creature is fond of joining his mistress in her bed in the mornings and licking incessantly at her face before curling up by her pillow. 

It is the predicament he finds himself in now. The useless little beast having shoved himself between them in the early hours of morning, demanding Cecily’s attention when Aemond is the one that wants it. It's childish, he recognises, but he’s jealous of the thing that Cecily coos at. 

“You should not let him do this,” Aemond mumbles as Cecily rubs at his furry belly. 

Cecily lifts her head, pouting ever so slightly. Her hair, tousled from sleep, falls in dark cascades around her face and Aemond finds himself wishing she would wear it this way more often. “It does no harm,” she says. “It is twenty minutes of the day that he gets to misbehave.”

Aemond grumbles a wordless dissent, reaching out to let Bud lick at his fingers. Perhaps she’s right. But he could be spending those twenty minutes between her thighs. “You are more generous than I.”

Cecily smiles, laying back against the soft pillows. “I’m certain that if Vhagar fit in the bed, you’d let her in too.”

He scoffs. “That’s preposterous. She’s a dragon, not a hound.” She may not be wrong, though. As a child, he had always kept the dragon eggs he was given on the pillow beside him with the hope he might wake up to a dragon hatchling in his chambers. “Vhagar is no more a pet than Bud is a dragon.”

Aemond watches as Cecily listens to him, a contented smile on her face. “Aegon thinks Bud and Sunfyre are similar in temperament.”

He stiffens, searching her face for any sort of discomfort at recalling the memory. If Aegon has been at all improper with her, he’ll… Gods, he can hardly begin to think. “When did he say this?”

“Last week,” she says, giggling when Bud places a demanding paw on her hand, dragging it toward his belly. “He came by whilst I was with Helaena and the children. Bud was playing with them.”

Aemond feels the tension release from between his shoulders, but only a modicum. Love his brother as he might, he is not the most delicate of men. Cecily is delicate. A lady, one of virtue and fair of heart. He wants not for her to be corrupted by Aegon. But idle conversation in front of the children… he supposes he ought not worry for that. “We should rise,” he murmurs after a moment. “Lest we become lazy like your dog.”

Cecily laughs, reaching out to gently poke his shirtless chest. “He is a very fit and active boy,” she says, sitting up and gently clicking her tongue. Obediently, Bud scrambles onto his front and stands up, jumping down from the bed as Aemond grabs Cecily’s robe for her, quietly warning her before slipping it onto her shoulders. 

“Would you like to join me for prayer this morning?” Cecily asks softly. Aemond has yet to say yes to that question– but she asks each morning nonetheless. Aemond supposes it's sweet that she wants to share in faith with him, but he still desires his solitude with the Gods.

“Not today,” he murmurs, and she nods her head, accepting his answer with grace as she always does. Aemond takes her hand, lifting her knuckles to his lips. “I will meet you when we both have dressed for the day. There’s somewhere I wish to take you.”

Cecily smiles, nodding again. “Okay,” she whispers. “Until then.”

He presses another gentle kiss to her knuckles before he releases her hand, stepping away from her and leaving her chambers. They switch each night between one another’s chambers, though Aemond wonders if it might be worth it to move her into his entirely. It would save them both the trouble, and it would help Cecily to not have to remember two different layouts. 

Later, Aemond emerges from his own chambers to meet Cecily. She walks with Ser Rickard, holding onto his elbow as he guides her with gentle footsteps. She wears today a gown of sapphire blue silk, with long flowing sleeves that brush close to the stone floor. Aemond’s heart thumps in his chest at the sight, reminded of something she’d asked him last night whilst he was buried inside her. 

“The gemstone,” she had murmured between sweet moans. 

“What?” asked Aemond, pulling his lips away from her neck to look at her. “What gemstone?”

“In your eye,” she whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek as her face contorted in pleasure. “What is it?”

Aemond, never slowing in his languid thrusts, searched her gaze. “A sapphire.”

A sapphire gown. A colour she can hardly even see, for a silent show of unity with her husband. Aemond wishes he might take her right here against the wall. Instead he manages to contain himself to the smallest of smiles and holds out his own arm for Cecily to hold. 

“I can guide her,” Aemond says to Ser Rickard. She finds him with ease, looping her arm into his far more intimately than she had with the knight. “You look beautiful.”

Cecily smiles up at him. “I asked Janna to find a gown of mine in this colour,” she says, gently lifting it and setting it down again as they walk. “I only have one. But I will have more made, give a few of my older ones to her.”

Aemond smiles, looking forward. “You are frugal for a Tyrell,” he says, earning himself a gentle elbow in the ribs. 

“And you for a Targaryen,” she counters. “Where are you taking me today?”

“Corner,” he warns her gently as they turn, allowing her to acquiesce to the change in direction. “I’m taking you to meet Vhagar.”

Cecily is quiet for a moment, lips pursed in that way they always get when she’s considering her words. “To ride her?”

He opens his mouth to answer her question, but as they leave Maegor’s Holdfast and step out into the courtyard he’s stopped by the sight on the other side of the yard, knowing it will slow them on their progress. 

“Aemond?” Cecily presses, frowning before perking a bit, clearly recognising the voice across the way. Aemond does not much recognise the smile on her face, a type of love in her eyes he’s not certain he’s ever felt. 

“Come,” she encourages, now the one leading Aemond down the way toward her father’s voice. “Good morrow, father!”

Martyn Tyrell turns away from the conversation he's sharing with Lord Beesbury, his own face lighting up as though he hasn't seen her in weeks when Aemond knows for a fact they shared lunch together only yesterday. What wonder it must be for a father to love his child so. Aemond guides Cecily away from a loose paver as she makes her hurried way to Martyn. 

“My girl,” Martyn says, opening his arms as Cecily approaches, gently placing his hands on her shoulders and kissing her forehead. He smiles fondly before pulling away and bowing his head to Aemond. “My prince.”

By right he probably should have addressed Aemond first. But Aemond decides not to comment. He nods his head in greeting. “Lord Martyn.”

Lord Martyn is a handsome man. He is tall, strong even into his forties, and he shares his colouring with Cecily, only his dark hair is streaked with silver. The Highgarden sun has worn shallow lines into his face, particularly around his mouth and eyes. Evidence of a lifetime of smiling, Aemond supposes.

(Aemond wonders if Cecily will age with similar lines carved into her face, if only he may keep giving her reason to smile.) 

He is dressed as opulently as Aemond has come to anticipate, clapping his ringed hands together and turning to Lord Lyman, giving him a warm smile. “We’ll continue this later, my friend,” he says, clapping the older man gently on the shoulder. “Enjoy your morning, Lyman.”

The master of coin, despite slowing in his old age, seems eager to be going. Perhaps for a morning nap after being awake a gruelling two hours, Aemond thinks to himself, amusedly. 

Martyn watches him go for a moment before turning back to the young couple. He sighs, smiling fondly at the both of them. “A wonder they let him sit the council,” he says lightheartedly, but Aemond hears something in his voice he cannot place. “It warms my heart to see you both together. What are you up to today?”

“Aemond is taking me to meet Vhagar,” Cecily says, adjusting her stance and her grip on Aemond. “I think with the sun out so bright, I may be able to see the shape of her.”

Aemond had not even considered that. He knows that Cecily can see masses of colour in the bright sunlight, but he hadn't considered Vhagar to be a mass of colour until now. 

“With any luck,” says Aemond. “Though I fear she’ll blend into the green of the Kingswood.”

Martyn still smiles at them both, clearly quite pleased with himself. “No matter,” he says. It is odd, thinks Aemond, that he carries himself like a plumper man than he is, rocking on his feet as he speaks. “An auspicious meeting all the same.”

Just then, the distinctive clinking sound of someone jogging while wearing armour approaches them. They each turn to face the noise and Aemond feels himself clenching his jaw. Any more Tyrells, and this will become a joust. 

Leo stands before them all with a tired smile and tousled hair, his helmet tucked under his arm as he bows to each of them, Aemond first, then Martyn, then he greets Cecily by name, then he nods to Ser Rickard, who raises a brow at him. 

“Should you be on duty, Ser Leo?” He asks the younger. 

Leo inclines his head to Rickard with deference. “No, ser. I had the night’s watch over Princess Helaena and the children, Arryk has just relieved me.”

Ser Rickard relaxes then, content to let the man speak to his family. 

“I was on my way to have my breakfast when I spotted a squire carrying a letter with the Tyrell seal.” He lifts up the rolled up paper in his hand, the seal unbroken. “Roses and grapes. From my Lady Aunt Alerie. So, I thought I’d bring it myself”

Martyn perks then, surely expecting the letter from his wife to be for him. Aemond assumes much the same, but Leo looks at Cecily. 

“I suspect the silence indicates it's for me,” Cecily says with a wry smile. 

Leo laughs good-naturedly. “Shrewd as ever, cousin,” he says, gently placing the letter in her hand when she offers it. 

Cecily takes it, rubbing her thumb across the wax seal and glancing in the vague direction of her father. “Thank you, Leo. You may go. I am sure this is only news that she has reached home, and sordid details of her dreadful trip there.”

Leo grins. “Very well. Good morrow,” he says, then bows again to Aemond and Martyn. 

Only when they cannot hear the clinking of his armour does Cecily offer the letter to Aemond. She asks him, quite seriously, “Will you read it for me?”

This is not the first time she’s asked him to relay her correspondence to her. Though never has she been so grave in asking him. Aemond glances at Martyn, who looks equally as grave. What? Why are they suddenly serious? Do they expect the letter to say she is in danger? Aemond does not think he’s ever seen Martyn quite this serious, though it's not an unfamiliar experience from Cecily. It disquiets him. Nevertheless, he cracks the seal and reads aloud the contents. 

“The rat plays while the cats are away. A weed is growing strong. - Alerie R.”

Aemond frowns, lifting his gaze to Cecily's face. He notices she’s playing with the embroidery on her sleeve as she often does when she worries, though she hasn't done it quite as much of late. Aemond dreads to think what has caused her to lapse into anxious habits again. He knows quite little of Alerie Tyrell, has only met her at the wedding where she said very little. She seemed an aloof and distant woman, content to let her husband speak rather than to do so herself. Cecily has described her as cryptic. Aemond can now see why. If this is not a coded message, it's simple nonsense.

“It is as I feared,” says Cecily. 

Martyn huffs, looking in the direction Leo had just departed to. “Right you are,” he says. “As always. I had hoped removing Leo might have put a stop to it.”

“You know his ambition sees not beyond his own nose,” Cecily says. 

“I might like to be enlightened on who this rat might be,” Aemond interjects, frustrated that he remains not privy to what they speak of. He has a fair estimate, but he’ll not assume and make a fool of himself. 

Martyn looks at Cecily, whose brow is furrowed. His face cycles through a wordless debate with itself, before his gaze shifts to Aemond. He smiles tightly. “I will allow my daughter to explain, my prince. I must write to my wife.” He bows his head to Aemond and does not wait for leave before departing. He is an impertinent type of man, Aemond thinks. 

Aemond looks at Cecily, face expectant. She smiles at him. “Not here. Come, take me to the Kingswood to meet your dragon.”

It is only when they’ve mounted their horses and left the walls of the Red Keep that Cecily speaks again, her hands gripping the pommel of the saddle tight. Her horse’s reins are secured to Aemond’s saddle, guided by him. 

“My uncle thinks me unfit for my duties,” she says with no preamble. 

Aemond looks over at her, taking in the way she sits sidesaddle with ease and comfort. He thinks she must have been riding horses since before she lost her sight, and continued even after. Reachmen do so love their horses. Hers is an older chestnut mare that had greeted her with familiar affection at the stables. He watches her as they go for a moment. “An opinion shared by many, I’m sure.”

Cecily smiles wryly, brushing her dark hair over her shoulder. “I suppose. But none of those people are in Highgarden’s line of succession,” she says, gazing up at the sky. It is cloudless, a great mass of blue haze. 

Aemond lifts his eye to look at it, seeing for once exactly what his wife sees. 

“It was my hope that in marrying you, and in having Leo swear to the Kingsguard, Moryn might cease in pursuing his ambitions. A fool’s hope, I now realise.”

Aemond looks at her again, contemplating. “You made sure Leo left before I read the letter,” he observes. “You do not trust him.”

“I love Leo,” she says, words careful, considered, as though this is a statement she’s mulled over a thousand times. “Like a brother. I trust him with my life and with anyone else’s. He’s a good man, and I know he has no wish to usurp me. But I cannot wholly trust his discretion on matters of his father.”

Aemond looks forward, spotting Vhagar’s hulking form nestled between the trees. “So your uncle is the rat. The growing weed.”

“Indeed,” she sighs. “The rose’s thorn, as it were.”

Aemond brings his horse to a stop, and Cecily’s chuffs as she slows. Aemond looks back at Ser Rickard on his own horse and asks him to secure the horses before he dismounts, coming up to Cecily and placing his hands on her waist. He grunts softly as he lifts her from the saddle, setting her down in the grass. 

“Mm. Thorns ought to be plucked if they end up in one’s side,” Aemond says as he leads her across the grass. Sensing his approach, Vhagar grumbles, waking from her sleep and lifting her head. “Or they'll fester.”

“Or worse,” says Cecily, pausing in her footsteps as she hears and feels the low rumbling of the dragon. “The wound will close over without the thorn ever being removed. A permanent fixture.”

“Don't be afraid,” Aemond murmurs when she stops, placing a gentle hand on the small of her back. He looks up at Vhagar, whose colossal head is slowly swinging around and lowering to their height. Aemond watches her nostrils chuff as she takes in the new person before her. 

Cecily, to her credit, does not tremble or back away. She does, though, pinch her face into a little scowl, clearly trying her hardest not to. Vhagar doesn't smell the nicest, and though Aemond has grown used to it, it must be worse for Cecily and her acute sense of smell. 

Aemond presses a gentle, affectionate kiss to her temple, a silent apology. “Can you see her?”

Cecily’s eyes search the space in front of her, but she nods after a moment. “I… I think I can. She is green? I am not just seeing the trees?”

“Yes,” he says, reaching a hand out toward Vhagar. She meets him halfway and brings her snout to his hand. Typical of her to not even bother threatening Cecily. She has always preferred the fairer sex. He takes Cecily’s hand, guiding it up toward Vhagar. She gasps softly as her palm makes contact with the rough skin of the dragon. Aemond looks back at her, and she looks more nervous than he thinks he’s ever seen her. 

“Does she dislike it?” Cecily asks. 

“If she disliked it, we’d know it,” Aemond says with a smirk. “I rather think she likes you, in fact.”

Cecily’s eyes seem trained on the hulking form of her, and Aemond’s chest swells knowing he has brought her before something she can see. Her hand gently rubs at Vhagar’s leathery skin. “How can you be sure?”

Aemond rubs his free hand gently over her back. “I can feel it. She can feel that I am fond of you, and she must share the sentiment. Besides, I think she has always had a soft spot for gentle women.”

“Am I gentle?”

“More than most I know,” he says, gazing down at her. “Gentle as a woman should be. But more clever than most.”

Cecily stares silently up at Vhagar for a long second, and Aemond cannot hope to read her mind, or even her pinched expression. “I cannot only be gentle,” she murmurs. “Some part of me must be feared.”

Aemond is quiet for a moment, his nose brushing against her temple. “I will be the fearsome part of you,” he promises in an earnest murmur.

Cecily pulls her gaze away from Vhagar, turning her face to Aemond. Her hand drops from Vhagar’s snout and carefully finds the back of Aemond’s neck. With a gentle tug, she pulls his lips down to hers and kisses him with fervour. 

Aemond is surprised for a only a split second. He grabs her gently by the hips and pulls her closer as he kisses her. Her body presses to his, and he can practically feel the thrum of her heart against her chest. Cecily winds her fingers into his hair at the base of his neck, making a soft noise of desperation as she urges her tongue forward into his mouth. Beside them, Vhagar grumbles and moves her head away, settling down to continue with her nap.

Aemond grants Cecily entrance to his mouth, rather liking this side of her that leads the charge. She licks into his mouth, tongue dragging over his as Aemond begins to walk her back toward a tree. She acquiesces and walks back, but never dares to part her lips from his. He backs her up against a tree, hands squeezing at her hips through her dress. As she sucks at his bottom lip he reaches back, groping at her behind before beginning to tug up the layers of her skirt. 

Cecily gasps then, pulling her lips away from his. Undeterred, Aemond presses his lips to her jaw, dragging his tongue lewdly across her skin. “Aemond,” she breathes. “We cannot-”

“Yes we can,” he murmurs, nipping gently at her skin. “I’ll have my wife if I wish it.”

She whines, so beautifully it makes Aemond’s cock stir in his pants. “But Ser Rickard- and- and Vhagar–”

“Ser Rickard is with the horses,” he says against her skin. “He will be discreet. And Vhagar does not care. She’s already gone back to sleep.”

Cecily closes her eyes as Aemond brushes his hands over the soft skin of her thighs. “Okay,” she grants. “I suppose I did start this.”

Aemond hums, trailing his kisses down her neck as he lowers himself to his knees in the grass. He pulls Cecily’s dress up past her hips, holding it up with one hand so he can knead gently at her thigh with the other. He looks up at her, taking one of her hands and guiding it to her bunched up skirt so she can hold it, taking the other and placing it gently on his head. “Trust me,” he murmurs, feeling the slight, confused tremble in her legs.

With both hands now free, he tugs down her small clothes and slings the leg of it over his wrist so it doesn’t get lost. Cecily presses her thighs together shyly, but Aemond gently coaxes one leg into his large hands, lifting it up and settling her knee over his shoulder. Cecily says nothing, biting her lip and shifting nervously. She doesn't ask questions, trusting Aemond as he’s requested. He presses a gentle kiss to her thigh. “Good girl,” he praises in a murmur, then kisses her thigh again. He trails a path of kisses down the length of her thigh, cherishing the supple flesh before he reaches his prize. 

Cecily’s cunt already glistens with arousal when he reaches it. Aemond cannot help but drag a thumb gently through it, making Cecily sigh and shiver when he rubs the rough pad over her pearl. He leans forward then, granting himself an act of debasement in a moment of debauchery, and inhales deeply. 

(Her cunt does not smell of roses. But he will not grant Aegon the satisfaction of telling him so.)

“Aemond!” Cecily squeals, squirming above him and tangling her fingers into his hair. He can only imagine the blush dying her cheeks bright pink, for he cannot make himself pull away from her sweet cunt to check. 

Aemond chuckles, gently squeezing her thigh in apology. “If it feels strange and you want me to stop, tell me so,” he murmurs.

Without waiting for an answer, he presses his tongue between her folds and laps a long, languid stripe along her, ending at her pearl. She gasps at the sensation, the sound quickly crumbling into a moan when he circles the bud and flicks his tongue at it. She tastes divine, like he imagines nectar to taste. He moves down again, lapping at her slick entrance and groaning. She tightens her grip on his hair, grinding her hips down against his tongue as he pushes it desperately into her. 

The hand that doesn't grip her thigh comes up to play with her pearl as he laps at her hole and Cecily’s hand drops the grip on her skirt to grab at the tree behind her for purchase, moans tumbling freely from her mouth. The silk drops onto Aemond’s head, held up only by Cecily’s hand in his hair. That, she does not let go of. Aemond isn’t stopped or even slowed by the sudden weight of fabric on his head, he keeps his pace and continues to lap at her, tongue curling up against the spot he’s learned drives her wild. 

“Ae-Aemond!” Cecily cries, rocking her hips as Aemond pleasures her from all sides. Aemond, secretly, is a touch impressed, perhaps arrogant, that he can feel her beginning to clench already. He has grown quite familiar with how her body tenses before her climax. He strokes at her pearl, silently encouraging her to let go. She cannot hold on a moment longer, and her noises cut off sharply as her whole body tightens– her cunt feels as though its locked Aemond’s tongue in place, grip vice-like. She pulls on his hair and Aemond can only groan as her silence ends and she melts into sweet whines. 

“Gods be good,” she whispers when she seems to regain control of her tongue. Aemond pulls his own from her, licking at her once more before pulling his head back and looking up at her.  She’s panting, eyes closed, and smiling. Aemond gently lowers her leg, holding her hips to keep her from buckling to the ground. Cecily loosens her grip on his hair, gently smoothing down the tousled strands. “How did you think of that?”

“I wish I could claim to have invented it,” he says, moving to help her get her smallclothes back on. “It was good?”

Cecily lifts her legs one at a time and lets him pull her smallclothes up and drop her skirt. When Aemond stands, she finds his face to hold it. “Strange at first,” she admits, leaning up on her toes to kiss him gently. Aemond wonders if she can taste her own essence on his lips. “But very good.”

Aemond smiles, happily returning her gentle kiss as he helps to adjust and smoothe her skirts. “Good. You were loud. I like it when you’re loud.”

Cecily blushes then, that beautiful shade of pink Aemond loves so dearly. “How humiliating,” she murmurs, winding her arms around Aemond’s waist to hold him, resting her cheek against his chest. “How might I return the favour?”

“You needn’t,” he says. 

He can practically feel her pout. “Someday you must let me.”

“Someday,” he promises. "But not today, not here. I would not put my wife on her knees in the dirt. Not unless she begged me.”

Cecily giggles, reaching down to squeeze at his arse. “Do not tempt me. I just might.”

[dreamlandcreations]

• chapter 1 • ñuha dāria • my queen •

Daemon Targaryen x Stark!Reader

Summary: Daemon is about to meet his match...

Warnings (and some ramblings): physical description vaguely (?) described and implied by relation, not gonna spoil the plot but there's gonna be targcest (come on, it's Daemon), other canon stuff (violence, death/murder, sex, misogyny, calling children bastards), Daemon is about 21 (according to canon, you'll see what I mean), reader is younger by at least two years; twisting up canon: Alyssa died within the year of Daemon's birth, Queen Alysanne is still alive and the Daemon-Rhea wedding has not happened yet, the fight is basically the Geralt vs Renfri fight (if you want visuals bc I suck at describing it 😅), bit of insta love, enemies to lovers (sort of), it's mostly from Daemon's POV, not proofread at all

Series masterlist • next chapter

• 102 AC • Winterfell • The tourney

Daemon was warned to behave before most of the House of the Dragon parted from King's Landing but he was called the Rouge Prince for a reason.

The tourney was held on the second day of their stay and he had not shown himself in public until then, content to spend his first day in the North reading under the heart tree.

Daemon always loved dramatic entrances, always seeking attention that he seemingly only gets when he is misbehaving. So he was ready to wreak havoc during the event that was supposed to be a friendly match between the great houses.

As a prince, he got to choose his first opponent, and who else would it be than a Hightower. He spared a smirk to that cunt of a Hand before he marched ahead to win with brutal precision, sending his opponent's horse and the knight himself to the ground.

The horrified gasps and then the loud cheering from the crowd only made his smirk wider. Daemon looked over the high seats from where the Targaryens, Velaryons and Starks watched the show. He immediately noted three empty seats, two besides Lord Stark - no doubt one of them was his brother's or cousin's whose helmeted figure Daemon had seen in the line of knights - and one by the King.

Since his grandmother, the Queen, was not present due to her illness, the only one who was sending him scolding glares was his brother, Viserys. The old king just sighed at the scene, while Corlys and Rhaenys sat there, amused, like parents watching a naughty child.

The next challenges were won just as easily as the first, although none of them was even remotely close to that savage end the Hightower boy had to suffer.

While the Prince usually didn't bother to watch the others, this time that Stark was drawing attention with his effortless wins. Prompting the people to make guesses and bets if a wolf could win against a dragon. Well, they were about to find out.

The first round shattered his opponent's shield but, to his astonishment, he stayed upright in the saddle. Daemon was smirking as usual but this time a tiny bit of admiration made his eyes glint in a softer light.

He could tell the little wolf would go down in the next round but he didn't expect to be taken with him too. The dragon prince's blood was singing at meeting a worthy opponent who was just as determined to win, no matter the cost.

The boy must have known he had no chance to stay on the horse, so instead of attacking Daemon as would be proper and expected, he somehow hooked his spear under his arm, yanking him back with the force of his own fall.

Both of you heavily landed on the ground, the impact crushing the air from your lungs and making it unable to move for a long moment. The spectating people were holding their breath, waiting to see if you were, well, alive or not.

The cheering was deafening as you got to your feet and proceeded to fight with swords.

Without wasting another second, you marched forward. Stabbing in his direction, aiming for his head and swinging at his neck with the same momentum once your initial blow missed its target.

The prince leaned away from each attack and his sword met yours at the third strike. He let you lead the fight for a few more clashes but he paused to assess you as he blocked a blow that meant to hit his legs.

Daemon straightened and stepped back, pushing your sword away with his and striking down with a high swing of Dark Sister. Your sword met his again, protesting under the finer steel.

To spare your weapon the worst of the hit, you focused on meeting the side of the blade while avoiding the edge and rolling the swords, trying to dislodge the weapon from his grip.

To unsuccessful stabbing attempts later you made a move at his head again. He ducked down, then didn't hesitate to use the opportunity of the few seconds you left yourself open.

You didn't expect a hit by his other hand and certainly not the following kick that sent you to the ground. Unfortunately, this resulted in losing your helmet.

Daemon paused at the sight.

It was no brother or cousin of their host, not even a boy as he suspected from the lighter build of the armour but a girl with the features of a Stark, the infamous wild beauty of the North, Lord Stark's niece by his late sister.

For the second time during this event, a unanimous scandalized gasp was heard from the crowd right before loud the protests of his brother and your uncle reached the two of you as they forbade you to continue the fight.

At that, your still bewildered expression turned into something Daemon was extremely familiar with. Blinding, all-consuming, untamed rage at being denied.

The Targaryen prince grinned wickedly at you but before you could turn your anger on him, he tore off his helmet, throwing it away and subtly nodding at you, giving you the approval to attack him and continue the fight. The answering spark in your eyes before you charged at him made his heart skip a beat.

It was similar to how you started the first time. He let you advance, then half-heartedly attacked back, ending the session with another backhanded slap before he pushed you backwards until your back met the edge of the fighting arena.

"You are holding back." You practically spat the accusation at him through gritted teeth while holding your sword to block his. Although with the way he took hold of your hand, making sure that your blade did not cut into your throat proved that you might as well let go altogether and would still be safe from any harm.

The world around you seized to exist as the prince pressed a little closer. Answering with an infuriatingly smug grin. "It would be unforgivable to hurt a little lady like you."

"You just hit me," you scoffed.

"You'll live."

"If you won't start fighting properly, you will not." The menacingly low threat made chills run down his spine, eliciting a low chuckle out of him that was definitely a mistake.

Then 'the little lady' pulled a knife on him.

Daemon grunted at the pain of being stabbed in his side. He looked at you with disbelief, the blade went through his armour like it wasn't even there. Valyrian steel.

It was enough distraction. You pushed him away, attacking with the dagger and the sword simultaneously and if you were a little less aggravated, you'd be impressed with the way he blocked your attacks with not just his sword but bare hand fight combined before he started to use his sword more like a shield.

Swords crossed, you paused.

Daemon could have swiped your legs, and you could have stabbed him with the dagger again but you were too busy trying to make it a show that you could overpower him and he was just too pissed to let you go easy.

In a blink of an eye, you were kneeling on the ground with your opponent's blade digging into your shoulder. Although he was careful not to cut too deep, he was not above the pettiness of giving you a scar in return for his.

A half groan, half gasp sound was the only indication of your pain and Daemon felt a moment of regret before he was consumed by flames from deep within that seemed to be seeded in the pull he felt towards you from the moment he laid his eyes on you. He found your rage and your inner fire, which was clearly visible in your determination and anger at the present, mesmerisingly beautiful.

He became distracted again. It was enough for you to be able to move and swipe at his leg, cutting him with the dagger before you stood and faced him with a challenging stance.

A few seconds of silent discussion followed, with him letting you know he will give you what you wished for if you continue, warning you that he will not hold back anymore.

You grinned, attacking him, again using both weapons, with some moves applying them like a single extended weapon.

Then he put you in a difficult position. Stopping the dagger by grabbing it, he was forcing you to stay still not by strength but by thrusting you that you would not want to permanently damage him.

If you pulled away now, he would lose at least a few fingers if not his hand altogether. Both of you gritted your teeth, mostly in pain but it showed more like anger, which made it seem like you were practically snarling at the other.

With barely clutching the handles, you pry his hand off enough to only graze him. And it leaves you vulnerable.

You almost lost your weapons when he immediately attempted to disarm you. Then he truly advanced, forcing you to defend yourself and back away. He was relentlessly stabbing and swinging with Dark Sister in your direction.

Then it was over, he took your sword. Holding you at the end of his blade, telling you to yield.

It was only then that you heard the crowd again. Cheering at the incredibly fast and hard-to-follow battle they just witnessed.

Despite the loud audience, Daemon still heard as you sighed with annoyance, keeping eye contact with him as you threw your dagger to the ground, refusing to do more or say the words.

He smiled, this time with pure amusement only. He stepped away, letting you breathe freely and to his further entertainment dropped to the ground to sit and rest or pout like a child. It was hard to guess and that made him enjoy the scene even more.

You were so busy with pealing away the suffocating armour where you could reach and the impending scolding that you knew was coming the moment you tied up your cousin and took his place, that you didn't pay attention when the prince received the flower crown or what he was planning to do with it.

Feeling the crown of winter roses placed on your head, you look up, wide eyes meeting with the Rogue Prince's mischievous gaze as he offers his hand and helps you stand. Without letting go, he bends a little, kissing the back of your hand as he murmurs, "My queen."

Series masterlist • next chapter

[consciouscarrot]

just a quick context, blackchurch is for rich/famous/well-known people’s misbehaving (adult) children. without giving away too many spoilers, in the book ‘nightfall’ by penelope douglas, it’s only shown to be used for men as an alternative to prison, as a way to not draw attention to the general public of their children’s crimes/actions. this ranges from crimes like murder to drug abuse. they’re basically kidnapped and are sent to ‘blackchurch’, a house in an undisclosed location in the middle of nowhere, where they are giving supplies once a month. if anyone has any questions, or wants to know more but isn’t interested in reading the book, ask away in the comments or my ask box !!

[the-badger-mole]

I find it so fascinating the way folklore cycles. I hadn't heard about the Dirt Man in years. Since I was a kid and my great grandmother was around to tell me the stories.

The Dirt Man is one of those figures that pops up in multiple cultures, the way vampires or the boogyman or mermaids exist in the folklore of several different countries. The way my great grandmother told me, it seems that the Dirt Man as he exists now is a mix of folktales from slave communities and native communities, but just doing a little digging I found that there are different versions of a similar figure in Asian and Eastern European folklore.

In the version I grew up hearing, he didn't live under the mountains, necessarily. He favored cemeteries (I think this might have been my family trying to make him extra creepy, though. I haven't seen it mentioned anywhere else, but I just started looking). The one thing that remains fairly consistent is the fact that his victims are men. That isn't true across the board. I found one version of the story from Sweden where he took misbehaving children, regardless of gender, and another version from Pakistan where he took people based on drunkenness, but generally, in most stories that I've seen so far, he takes men. In some versions, he eats them. In others he keeps them as slaves in his mines. In my great grandmother's stories, he steals their souls because he's trying to work off a debt to the devil. This version, where keeping dirt under your pillow to ward him off seems to be newer, but I don't know for sure.

Anyway, the fact that this song is bringing back this figure into public conscious makes me wonder who else grew up hearing these stories. If you know another version of this story, reblog and let me know. I think the birth and global spread of myths is fascinating.

[wordstome]

i’m here to encourage you to please elaborate on singledad!könig

also, do any of their kids have any scuffles with each other? how do the parents and children deal with it?

This ask was sent 10 minutes after the dream daddy post went up. Anon, I adore you.

I was going to put single dad König in this same post, but then it started to go on and on, and I want to take my time with the second half of your ask as well, so all my König thoughts will go in a separate post. Thank you for enabling me :3

(also this is the post I lost 3 paragraphs worth of writing on. It was literally all of Price and Ghost's sections, so forgive me if they're not up to par).

Price: With three kids, there are bound to be spats. Brianna taking something of Alice's without asking, Clara ruining one of the older girls' possessions, etc. etc. People see Price with all girls and remark how peaceful his house must be, but Price (and anybody who has a sister) knows that is NOT true. The Price home is chaos interrupted by periods of peace. Luckily, their dad is a literal military captain, so he's able to whip them into shape. All manner of crying, yelling, and shrieking can be silenced with one singular "GIRLS!" from the man himself. Then after that comes the soothing and the stern talking-tos.

Ghost: I think Simon was great with kids pre-Roba, he had Tommy and then his nephew Joseph. But post-Roba and his work in the special forces, he's much more rough around the edges. Like I said in the main post, Caden is a pretty quiet kid, so I can't see him starting or getting into any trouble. But he is still a 10 year old, so I can see him throwing a fit when he's frustrated or uncomfortable. If this happens in public, Simon will pull him aside and talk to him quite sternly, especially if Caden is making a ruckus as an emotional outlet. In private, he gives Caden space to let it all out, and then talks to him afterwards. However, if Caden can articulate what's upsetting him, he's very gentle and understanding. One way or another, I can see Simon getting help with his PTSD, so he uses a lot of techniques that his therapist taught him with Caden.

Soap: I imagine Elodie as about 6-7 years older than Thomas, who is a literal baby, so I can't see that they get into any fights. Mostly Elodie getting cranky about Thomas getting all the attention, at which point Johnny has to reassure his daughter and give her some love as well. When they're older, Elodie is a classic older sister who fucks with her little brother. She's never truly malicious, but there are definitely times when Johnny's standing in front of them sighing and pinching his nose because Elodie's played a nasty prank on her brother. Johnny's a very picks-his-misbehaving-kid-up-like-a-doll-and-gives-them-a-noogie kind of parent. He's never raised his voice at his kids, but instead has an "if what I think is happening is happening, it better not be" tone that instantly strikes fear into his kids' hearts. I can hear it in my head. I know you guys can hear it in your head too. 'Nuff said.

Gaz: It's hard to say what it's like when Kyle's kids fight: I can see Violet being the sort of girl who is quite close with her younger brother, so I can't really imagine a lot of scenarios in which they would fight. But Elliott is a younger brother and Violet is a growing teenage girl, so there have probably been a few times when Violet got mad at Elliott and screamed at him or said something that she regretted. Kyle and Emily will both scold the kids when they step out of line, and they both do their part when it comes to discipline. Kyle in particular is a very "I'm not mad at you, I'm just disappointed" sort of parent. He expects a lot of Violet, but sometimes that pressure can get to her.

König: This man is overwhelmingly soft for his daughter. The calmest, most gentle giant. I think out of all the dads he's most susceptible to spoiling her, which obviously could become a problem. He's incredibly lucky though, because Ava is an angel. She is spoiled, being an only child on her daddy's colonel salary, but she gives more "kind rich girl" vibes than "inconsiderate little brat". I'm going to elaborate more on this in the upcoming König post, but he's got this deep sadness to him because he lost his wife. Ava is a pretty perceptive child, so she doesn't act out unless she's having a really hard time, in which case König is nothing but soothing and reassuring.

Horangi: If Ryujin (Hong-jin's daughter) has beef with you, he's kicking your ass right alongside her. When she was young, she was fully capable of both starting and finishing fights, and Hong-jin was an incorrigible enabler who was more likely to double over laughing than scold his daughter. Her mother usually had to be the disciplinarian. Hong-jin and Ryujin have a complicated relationship, but in adulthood, they're pretty even keel, and have grown even closer since the death of Ryujin's mom.

Keegan: Jason and Cecelia have been through a lot together, so they don't really fight. When they do though, it's nasty, and Keegan serves as more of a go-between than a disciplinarian role. Both of them will seek advice from him, but he understands that they know each other better than he does. Not for lack of trying, of course, but it's inevitable with older adoptions. His role comes from having more life experience, and he's got a kind of impenetrable chill that makes everybody a lot calmer.

[autisticjoys]

“You know, I envy your job sometimes.” Villain grumbled in the middle of an epic fight.

“Excuse me?!” Hero looked visibly offended “YOU envy MY job?!”

“Yeah. I mean, you’re not the one who’s being hunted 24/7, never knowing when your place is going to get raided.” Villain’s usual smug tone was seemingly getting irritated.

“Your face isn’t plastered on every poster with Wanted Dead being emphasized . You’re not being used as a tale to scare children into not misbehaving ” Villain’s voice seemed to tremble.

“You don’t have to worry about whether or not you’ll be able to get food on the table at the end of the day or if you’d even still have your freedom”. Hero could swear he saw tears in Villain’s eyes.

“You don’t have to constantly look over your shoulders in fear or worry about whether you can trust anyone.”

“Wow.” Hero seemed to be in utter disbelief. “You really have no idea what it means to be a Hero right?” Hero made a scoff and Villain started feeling a bit uneasy by how condescending he sounded.

“You think I have it easy?!” Hero was practically shouting at this point and for the first time during their rivalry, Villain felt genuinely terrified of their adversary. “That my life is some perfect fairytale? Well news flash: it’s fucking not! Between the government monitoring, the regular debriefs, the press conferences, the theatric public appearances, the fans swarming me at every possible place, including my home, I have zero privacy or a life outside of running after you and other low life scums!”

Villain took offense to the last part of the statement, but seeing that Hero was clearly not in the right mindset, they elected to stay quiet about it. “Do you have the slightest sliver of idea of the pressure of my job? No sick days, no days off, no room for mistakes or human error, because lives depend on me! If I’m anything less than the perfect and powerful symbol for peace and hope, I’m done for!” Hero was breaking down more and more with each sentence.

“I can’t confide in anyone, I can’t show weakness or fear or anything other than my life being a happy and perfect wonder and I’m sick and tired of it all!” Hero was out of breath, panting, tears streaming down his face. His vision was too blurred to see Villain’s expression of genuine concern and pain. Villain silently moved closer, and Hero hung his head in defeat. Once they were only about an arm’s length from each other, Hero mumbled…

“Just make it quick, will you?” Villain seemed to hesitate, before taking the final step, pulling Hero into a really tight hug.

“I’m so sorry.”

[respocked]

I'm thinking about work anyway so fuck it

Star Trek Public Primary School AU 🛸 !

Kirk

-the headmaster!

-went into education because of his own unfortunate childhood

-has an uncanny ability to tell which student has a bad home life

-remembers everyone's name, even if you went to his school 5 years ago for 2 months

-misbehaving teenagers send to his office get some candy and a motivational speech that changes the course of their lifetime

-most days can be found hovering suspiciously outside of spock's classroom

-way better with older students, 12-13 - has absolutely 0 idea what to do with young children

-which is awkward when while waiting for spock outside his classroom he tries to make small talk with them (-so... son... read any good books lately? -i can't read!)

Spock

- teaches early education, 6 to 9 year olds

-greatly overqualified for the position, had a human psychology degree, interspecies child development degree, highly regarded in scientific community

-could be teaching university but prefers to spend his time sitting on carpets with children drawing clouds

-his class is extremely nontraditional - no desks, sitting on the floor, tons of meditation, classes in nature

-does not adhere to the program at all but somehow his classes always score the best on all exams

-turned down a position in a trendy montessori school for a public one

-parents either go out his way for their child to attend his class or request someone else - either from homophobic or xeniphobic reasons

Uhura

-the school's cultural assistant!

-also runs student exchanges with other countries and planets

-speaks every minority language that has representation in the student body

-also a substitute teacher

-she can give a super interesting lessons

-but takes 0 shit from students who won't respect her

-runs an extracurricular activity with spock when she teaches immigrant and refugee students to express their emotions with music

-is the best at pitching a project idea for funding, which is why her office and spock's classrom are the best equipped ones in the school

-spock's bestie, they hang out after work (gay/lesbian solidatity)

-still lives with her parents, they're super close

-wants to date but it's too boring compared to writing another lesson plan

Bones

-the school nurse! & in charge of nutrition

-teenagers are afraid of him

-small children absolutely love him

-takes his daughter to work and lets her draw with crayons on his important papers

-also constantly in spock's classroom, but to complain

-"damnit, spock! give them all the vulcan cuisine you want, but don't send them crying to me after they get an allergic reaction!"

-"meditation? maybe have them meditate on doing some real work for once"

-but when parents with pitchforks come to complain abt spock's methods he defends him like a lion

-he sends them piles after piles of scientific proof of why spock's method are actually the bestest and most efficient

-when kirk thanks him for stepping in he pretends like he doesn't know what he's talking about

Chapel

-teaches sex ed!

-the sweetest teacher ever

-one of those teachers that noone is intimidated by but noone disobeys because noone wants to makes her upset

-uses her Blonde White Straight Pretty Woman priviledge to convince reluctant parents to sign up their kids for sex ed

-goes All Out on halloween tho

-you know she is there, dressed like a witch, running an educational halloween themed activity! paper bats hanging from the ceiling!

-has gluten free and vegan candy in case the winners have a food sensivity!

-has a secret crush on Uhura and Spock both

Chekov

-teaches IT

-burned out miracle kid

-graduated university when he was younger than his current students

-lets students play roblox on the computers

-and teaches them how to torrent

-somehow noone from the faculty knows where he lives

-background check turns up nothing

-"did you know computers were invented in russia?"

-puts 0 effort in but somehow his students love him

-little girls take sneak photos of him to edit in a flower crowns

Scotty

-teaches a woodworking & engineering class and does janitor duties on the side!

-like kirk, absolutely 0 idea on how to treat younger kids

-strict

-has to be, no joking around power tools!

-but you know praise from him hits different

-will tell students he's proud of them when they make theit first little table

-can fix everything

-say "this interactive blackboard is broken!" three times to summon him

-marries to his career, teaching fulfills his paternal calling

Sulu

-teaches biology!

-rule follower

-stressed out about exams 3 years before his students

-not very inventive but everyone wants his class because there is a hamster in the classroom

-classroom full of houseplants

-if you agree to water them when he's away you will receive a 50 page manual on proper misting techniques

-not strict at all but will give a dressing down to a student who is seen treating a living thing badly

-can be bribed with plants

[theconcealedweapon]

Parents use public humiliation as a punishment, often by forcing their child to dress in an embarrassing way. They're often applauded for it, sometimes without even having to say what the child did to deserve the humiliation. Even just saying that the child is "misbehaving" or "acting up" is enough to get widespread support.

But when a little boy chooses to wear a dress because he likes it, the parents are considered abusive. The parents are assumed to be forcing their agenda on their children, even though there's clear evidence that they'd be getting massive approval from society if they actually were forcing it.

[sassyfrassboss]

Apparently Meghan goes ballistic when Archie and Lili get even the slightest mark or dirt on them that their nannies are constantly bathing them both and changing their clothes repeatedly throughout the day so that Meghan won’t go off at them AND the kids. My cousin actually used to work for them in an area without a NDA but now works for a much better family in the area with much better connections…

The kids are only allowed in a certain area of the house alone, they are not allowed to eat or drink in certain areas of the house, the dogs are not allowed in the house and any instances that either child or dog has been it is just for show and kids aren’t allowed to play with any of the dogs.

The kids follow a strict diet of everything being free - vegan, gluten-free, sugar-free, nut-free fat-free and organic foods are only to be given to them. Lollipops are sugar free and organic, Archie is said to hate them but eats them because they’re candy and fun looking. None of them get anything sticky or that can spill or melt like ice cream, that whole story about Archie in the car getting picked up was utter baloney.

At school as well Archie freaks out about getting dirty or doing anything messy. He likes getting out in the garden at home but the whole Archie and his chicken story is also baloney, it’s just Meghan wanting to compete with how outdoorsy the Wales kids are and how they have animals. Archie and Lili are only allowed to be around the chickens if it’s photo-op time. But back to Archie at school, he doesn’t like sharing and steals other kids lunch items from them because it’s something he wants and looks better than the gruel he gets from home.

Meghan is desperately wanting Archie to be known as Prince while at school but the board and heads disagreed but all of his items have HRH Prince Archie labelled on them and it’s also known that Meghan doesn’t allow him to have any friends that she hasn’t approved and won’t allow him to play with them. Archie doesn’t talk about home often though and doesn’t speak about Lili, and neither Harry or Meghan pick him up from school, it is a burly big man who chauffeurs the children and their nannies around.

Harry does spend a lot of time away from home and Meghan has a lot of parties, when this happens Archie and Lili are sent to the cottage to sleep and be. When Meghan is drunk she is combative and she is angry so staff usually lock the gates and don’t let her out the estate.

Doria is such a bitch and is literally so degrading towards everyone even Harry and the kids. She is no happy go lucky grandmother and like Meghan feels Archie and Lili should be seen and not heard and basically be perfect statues nonstop that do not misbehave or not do what they are told. The whole salt and pepper together is the tip of the iceberg as if Archie and now Lili don’t do anything exactly how Meghan wants, and Doria wants then they are punished. But it’s also staff too, a maid was fired because she didn’t clean exactly how Meghan wanted. Nannies are belittled and basically abused by Meghan and work basically 24/7 every day.

My cousin says that Meghan has got no friends in Montecito and she has become Public Enemy Number One because she won’t stop flirting with husbands, this is one of the reasons why David Foster doesn’t want anything to do with her. Meghan apparently had something going on with a Russian man who is linking them up with South Africa, interviewing Putin etc. Nacho’s wife hates her too btw, pwife as Delfina says now means puta wife.

HOT TEA ALERT

None of this really surprises me, except for the kids having to be tidy and clean because there for a while Meghan looked like a hot mess every appearance she made...

[kingalex0]

-listening to “No one Mourns the Wicked” and had the URGE to analyse the entire song for some meanings and this is what personally stuck out to me. There are Wicked Part 2 spoilers so dont read it if you don’t want to be spoiled on a piece of media that’s old enough that you can look the ending up on Google dot com.

In the beginning nothing really sticks out in terms of hidden meaning as its basic “good news and did you hear” till Glinda appears

“Let us rejocify that goodness would subdue the wicked workings of you know who”

Already it kind of draws that eyebrow raise for me that Glinda doesn’t call her either Elphaba or “The Wicked Witch” as munchkins SHOULD know her name Elphaba is not old enough to where most adults in Munchkin Land wouldn’t know her name as she is daughter to the former governor and probably would be governess after his death. But choosing to say “you-know-who” rather than the moniker Elphaba has been using is rather weird and using this as a moving point its also strange that Glinda would say Goodness (Singular) and Subdue, subdue means to make quiet/ bring under control as if Goodness had to quiet something or bring control to something but she doesn’t say anything explicitly saying that Elphaba has been killed simply that shes been brought under control or quieted.

Glinda’s next line really feels like its pandering to the munchkins but the one after rings bells for me “The truth we all believe’ll by and by. Outlive a lie” What does Glinda mean by “truth we all believe’ll” is there a lie that needs to be brought to the public’s attention and does she plan on telling this truth to the entirety of Oz at some point the line “Outlive a lie” saying that a lie will be put to rest before Glinda or rather the people of Oz grow old because she extends this by saying “For you and I” showing that its more important to her that other people know this information before she gets it off her chest.

They really Shade Glinda by cutting her off during her speech like ugh raise your hand but the first two lines really feels more pointed at Glinda narratively no one mourns the wicked, no one cries that they won’t return, no one puts flowers on their grave. These are all things that presumably Glinda has done in secret upon hearing about Elphaba’s death before her public address and assess.

BUT AFTER THEY’RE DONE BASICALLY MOCKING GLINDA WHY DOES IT PARALLEL WHAT HAPPENS IN THE MUSICAL SO FAST

“The GOOD man scorns the wicked” is the parallel thats drawn in Glinda between being kind and being good later on in the story and this I’ll circle back to.

“Through their (The Wicked’s) lives our children learn, what we miss when we misbehave” AGAIN drawing parallels between Elphaba’s penultimate disagreement with the wizard, her “Misbehaving” ex. Running away from the wizard, calling him a phoney, stealing the grimorie and ultimately not aligning with his world views (Animals shouldn’t speak and should be caged). But the What we miss part is also important because because what Elphaba misses out on is what Glinda’s life is, being labled a good witch being loved by Oz being an important political figure with power. This line also starts showing the connection that those who are deemed “Wicked” are not singular but plural though on surface level it can be seen as both Elphaba and her sister the next lines refute this

BACK TO GLINDA who has more knowledge than the munchkins who are singing says “And Goodness (Singular) knows the Wicked’s lives (Plural) are lonely, Goodness knows the Wicked die alone. It just shows when you’re wicked you’re left only on your own” and when Glinda says Goodness (singular) vs THE/WHEN YOU’RE Wicked (PLURAL) she’s talking about the people in Elphaba’s life including herself, claiming that Elphaba is the only good person in this story hence why Goodness is singular everyone else in this story is a bad person EXCEPT FOR Elphaba This also further cements the reasoning for the good vs kind argument that’s woven throughout the story moving back to the “A GOOD man scorns the wicked” a good man would scorn the wicked because he has been told its good to do so but a kind man would be told this and NOT scorn the wicked

But then the Munchkins repeat Glinda’s words without knowing the meaning behind them then adding on “The Wicked cry alone” there are no scenes where anyone is breaking down crying or crying at all EXCEPT for Elphaba during the Ozdust Duet and also Elphaba during the moment where Glinda and Elphaba split during Defying Gravity. But its only Elphaba crying. And this is because that line is ment to be literal noone who is “wicked” is shown crying because they cry ALONE, and that sentiment includes the audience who are considered a person in the room

Then “Nothing grows for the wicked they reap only what they’ve sown” again the parallels for the plural wicked but every character besides Elphaba gets exactly what they deserve there arent any character’s who are miraculously given an opportunity they work in some way shape or form for that opportunity. Glinda is accepted into the sorcery class because Elphaba put her own knowledge on the line thanks to Glinda setting up Nessa with Boq

And moreover on Nessa and Boq because Nessa does not love Elphaba unconditionally and it blatantly obvious in scenes where Elphaba is being ridiculed in the beginning and she never speaks up a singular time for her sister so through a karmic deserved fate she ends up with Boq who loves her conditionally but she love him unconditionally. Boq is paired with Nessa though he doesn’t truly love her and conditionally loves her because he was chasing after someone who did not want him and got that same fate turned upon him being paired up with someone whom he does not want.

Essentially the dynamic is that Elpahaba unconditionally loves Nessa who only Conditionally returns this love, so through Karmatic fate Nessa Unconditionally loves Boq who only Conditionally returns this love. Boq Loves Glinda who does not want him so again through Karmatic fate Nessa Loves Boq who does not necessarily want her.

This sentiment also extends to the last couple in this friend group Fiero, as he actively attempts to court Glinda when he first comes to Shiz using the f-boy persona but when Elphaba says that she sees through his facade he grows GENUINE feelings for Elphaba but only gets with Glinda as he was being a playboy and earned his playboy reward but he does get his true pick at the end of the musical. However for Glinda her karma and reaping is more in the fact she tries ENDLESSLY to never be lonely surrounding herself with people who only see her for her outwardly personality much like Fiero but where she and Fiero split Glinda is never able to fully shake that people pleasing outward snooty personality, forsaking her morals on numerous occasions just because she thinks it will make someone like her more thus leaving her completely alone at the end of the story with no one who will see her for who she is because she’s hidden this underneath so many layers of popularity and people pleasing.

And the scene where the Munchkins start trying to catch Glinda slipping. But she counters with “Are we born wicked or do we have wickedness trust upon us?” which again refers to how the story believes that Elphaba is the only character that should not be labeled wicked and draws more lines in the sand that the actual wicked people were born like that while Elphaba was given that title of wicked unfairly.

Then the big part of the song where not much that draws true meaning is really said. A bit of irony on the Munchkins part where they sing “we know what goodness is” because they are simply echoing Glinda’s words and are unable to draw the actual meaning from Glinda’s usage of “Goodness” (Elphaba) and “the Wicked” (The rest of the cast).

Then the last really important part of the song are sung “Woe to those who who spurn what goodness they are shown” and this is where it foreshadows some events that happen later on in the story basically saying that anyone who spurns goodness (Elphaba) does not end with a happy ending or the happiest they can be, saying they they’ll always have troubles just because they spurned the goodness they were shown (The IMMENSE Kindness that Elphaba displays throughout the story)

For example woe comes in the form of a house on Nessa Rose, curses placed upon both Boq and Fiero, Glinda ending the story with none of what she wants (Her husband is gone and her best friend dead to her knowledge), The Wizard returned to his home after decades of disappearance with likely his entire subset of belongings that weren’t in the balloon either sold, or destroyed in some way so he’s not returning to the life he previously had and Madame Morrible likely dead idk but the point is made

So literally nobody is happy at the end BUT Elphaba because she is freed from the entirety of OZ because she leaves and is never seen again (She fakes her death and runs off with Fiero) Which is absolutely crazy that the first song of this Musical not only clearly draws the parallels that are shown throughout the musical but foreshadows damn near all the events

Theres also the theory that Glinda sings higher when she’s lying which I support but its easier for me to pick apart the words because she is hitting whistle notes during the entire damn song