#even if the High Court accepts the appeal

[aminul-24]

Reblog if you’ve spent at least one night reading fanfics until daybreak.

[backwardsbread]

Hazbin Hotel:

Human!Alastor x Housewife!Reader

~Understanding Asexuality~

Warnings‼️- Established relationship, angst to fluff, mentions of pregnancy, fem!reader, maybe OOC Alastor??, mentions of cannibalism but only for like one sentence.

Setting is Alastor’s time period, 1900-1930s.

A/N: I hope I did Alastor’s character justice! He might be slightly out of character?? I can’t imagine him actually getting in a relationship, I mean man is literally a serial killer- so I tried- ENJOY

~I would also like to say, I am not asexual or aromatic myself. This is just my take on Alastor’s sexuality/how he handles it. If I made any mistakes, please correct me but I tried to be as respectful as possible. I tried to do some research on the history of asexuality during the time period, but remember I am not perfect and this is a FAKE scenario with a FICTIONAL character.~

You like to think you know your husband like the back of your hand.

The two of you got married young, falling hard for the young radio host was easy. Many other maidens had, their affections for Alastor painfully obvious. All the while Alastor had no plans on perusing any of the women who fancied him. He was love blind, not really understanding the amount of people attracted to him, or why they were.

What wasn’t to like? He was an attractive young man, charming, and a true gentleman. But the idea of settling down, having to commit himself to one individual the rest of his life, didn’t appeal to him.

Especially with how tainted his brain was with his little hobbies.

He never got the special feeling everyone spoke about. Butterflies, increased heart palpitations, sweaty palms. The mere thought of it was enough to have his face contorting in mild disgust.

That opinion didn’t change when he met you. There was no ‘love at first sight’ feeling for him. You were polite and put together and that was something Alastor could appreciate. He didn’t quite understand your advances towards him. Seeing your interest towards him as friendly banter, while you saw his reactions to it as rejection.

You accepted his dismissal of your feelings, knowing you had given it your best shot. It didn’t stop Alastor from adoring your company. Whether it be on the dance floor or attending the diner you worked at. You were an incredible friend to him, nothing more.

Safe to say, Alastor didn’t suddenly catch feelings for you. There was no sudden change in his feelings.

But there were whispers

Unwanted Attention being brought on Alastor.

Gossip was high. Many mouths questioning Alastor’s true intent with you. Why was he always along side such a pretty thing without courting her? Were the two of you involved in secret affairs?

The theories grew, and while Alastor loved the attention being a radio host brought him, gossip was bad if he needed to keep his personal life under wraps. Besides, what kind of gentleman would he be if he let others tarnish your good name? Getting with you was more of an effort to fit into norms rather than it being for ‘true love’.

Slowly he showed signs of affection towards you. Holding your hand in public, taking you on more proper dates, even kissing your cheek once or twice when he saw hushed whispers from nearby crowds. The affection was sudden, but not unwelcome to you. Your feelings had never truly gone away for the radio host, and you pinned his original rejections on him being shy.

It wasn’t long after his advances he asked your official partnership. To be frank, you were easy and Alastor needed a cover. His true intentions were cruel, but you were blindsided by your longtime crush and friend being interested in you.

But you weren’t completely naïve.

While yes, you loved Alastor with all your heart, you knew in the back of your mind he had ulterior motivations. Every chaste kiss, every hand hold, every hug, felt rushed and nervous. Your whole relationship with Alastor felt fast paced, as only a few months after having the gall to ask you out, he was asking you to marry him.

It felt forced.

The feeling you tried to ignore, hoping it was just your insecurities causing the sinking feeling in your gut. You of course said yes to Alastor’s proposal. Knowing deep down you loved him and should not question if he did so in return.

Before you knew it, you were dressed in white in front friends and family, listening to wedding bells chime gleefully.

You could recall joyous laughter and dancing, talking about your soon future with the radio host whose last name you had now shared. Sharing drinks with friends to celebrate you ‘winning’ over Alastor. It all moved so fast yet you were happy with the results.

Alastor couldn’t have agreed more considering the chatter about the two of you had died down ever since his proposal. (Besides a few heartbroken maidens who heard the handsome host was officially off the market) Less eyes were on him which was good for the estranged hobbies he would indulge in.

You and Alastor moved in together and it felt like smooth sailing.

Until the next thing people expected from the two of you. That of course being children.

Alastor and you would constantly hear all about the subject from your mother, who was desperate to have some grandkids running around. At the mention of children you felt flustered and embarrassed, considering you and Alastor had yet to be intimate with one another.

It was through the subject, however, that sinking feeling returned. As your mother rambled on about grandchildren, you occasionally piped in with your own opinion. When your husband realized having children was something you actually wanted, you caught him grimacing at the idea.

The look he gave made your heart feel heavy in your chest. The sinking only worsened when he begrudgingly agreed with your mother, saying how the two of you would provide her with grandchildren with time.

Forced.

You felt guilty. You knew Alastor was lying with his words. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to seduce your husband before. It was actually something you expected to happen and for the radio host to initiate.

Alastor would be lying if he said he didn’t start to feel genuine fondness towards you. You knew him well, better than any other friend he had.

You knew his schedule, his habits, his preferences. It scared him how much you could read his mind like a book. All the reason more to keep you sheltered away from how cruel of a man he truly was.

You were simply too good for him. Too innocent.

But when it came to intimacy, the radio host showed absolutely no interest. Coming up with one excuse after another to not be intimate with you. His rejection left you feeling unwanted and almost abandoned. Your own husband didn’t seem to enjoy your affections and it hurt your heart. You started to question if you were the cause of his discomfort. Was he just not attracted to you? Were you being too pushy?

Your mind even wandered to the late nights Alastor would stay out. Was he seeing someone else, perhaps? He could have anyone he wanted really, despite your marriage, there were many women who would still flirt with him. Had one caught his eye that he favored over you?

Anxiety and insecurity riddled your body for a long time before you started to search for possible answers. After work, you would head to a library of the outskirts of town. You didn’t want anyone you knew possibly catching you wildly scanning through books for possible answers.

The library didn’t provide much comfort. You found unsatisfactory answers, many of which ended in advice on how to ‘properly seduce a man’.

You didn’t want to force your husband to be intimate with you. Making desperate attempts that would ultimately be denied as they had been in the past.

You dug a little deeper, with a lot of the same results. You were just at your wits end with all the repetitive failure to find anything that felt right. However, one article caught your eye. A book that had dusted over from the lack of acknowledgment. Out of luck you reached for it, hoping to find any answers. Reading through the contents, it opened a whole new world of terminology and knowledge about a community you didn’t know existed.

You found comfort knowing there were possibly other people like your husband. That his rejections could possibly be the cause of something else other than you. You decided to take the article home with you, along with a few others, to read into it more at home.

————————————————————————

Through your research, you had started to understand your husband’s behavior more and more. You wouldn’t truly know the answers unless you had simply asked him, but at the same time, it felt better to consider this an option than to believe something was wrong with your marriage.

There were other people who exhibited traits your husband showed when it came to intimacy. Those who didn’t enjoy such pleasures or desires. It was a spectrum, one that you had never heard of. But it all made sense the more you read into different people’s experiences.

Some people’s stories you read stated how intimacy rarely crossed their mind. Before, you had only heard stories of friends being hyper sexual, with high sex drive that would oftentimes cause high gossip. It made sense that there were bound to be people at the other end of the stick, who felt the opposite. Of course they could acknowledge it was a thing. However the need/want to experience such things would rarely and sometimes never spark. It didn’t make these people strange or less human, it was simply how they felt.

You hear the door swing open, interrupting your thoughts. You swear to yourself silently, hurrying to close the books and articles you were reading up on. You shove the disorganized papers into the large book, then shove it underneath the table, out of view. You stand, brushing off your dress, and quickly go over to the stove.

“Hi honey! You’re home early.” You shout across the house to your husband. You grab your apron, messily tying the back of it.

“Oh I finished up early today, thought you would enjoy the surprise.” Alastor’s voice responds, his footsteps approaching the kitchen.

Grabbing a pot, you fill it with water as Alastor enters the room. He approaches you, putting a finger under your chin and bringing you closer. He gives your cheek a small peck, his fingers barely grazing your hip.

Forced.

You smile towards your lover, setting the full pot over the unlit stovetop. Adrenaline runs through your veins as you watch Alastor go and sit at the table. You clear your throat, avoiding looking at your husband. You open up the cabinets, looking around for ingredients to start on supper.

“How was your day, love?” You ask, trying to be as casual as you could. Alastor caught on to your anxiety, but decided to ignore it. He hummed, adjusting his glasses on his face.

“As normal as any other, dear. There was actually quite the crazy story, today about-..” Alastor went on about his radio show and the topics he had covered. You nod occasionally to show you could hear him, but his words didn’t really process in your head. You couldn’t focus with you heart drumming in your ears. Pulling out random ingredients from the cabinets, trying to think of anything to make for dinner, Alastor continues to speak. His voice a source of comfort despite him unknowingly being the cause of your anxious behavior.

“..they apparently continued their actions anyway! Don’t these men have any class? I swear to you the nerve of… some.. folk..” You tuned back into Alastor’s rambling just as he hear him start to trail off. You hear his seat pull back, making a creaking noise as he leans back and looks under the table. Feeling his gaze on you for a moment, you don’t dare to look back at your husband. He had seen what you tried to poorly hide.

Alastor leans down, grabbing the book with articles sticking out of the side. He hums, opening the book a skimming over the contents of what he found.

“Darling, what’s all this?” He asks, eyebrows furrowing as he read through the article. Tensing at his tone, you avoid looking towards him and keep quiet. Your mind racing almost as fast as your heart. Your voice was caught in your throat, trying to come up with an excuse. Any excuse.

It takes a moment to gain your composure. Eventually you speak, after clearing your throat in an attempt to get rid of the lump stuck there.

“I was just.. doing some reading.. on uhm..” Gosh, this was embarrassing to admit. Your face flushes to pink as you continue, “I just had some concerns.. I suppose I was feeling a bit insecure about our relationship-..”

“Our relationship?” Alastor questions, staring daggers into your back. His tone showing signs of irritation and discomfort. You turn towards your husband. There was no hiding how you felt now. You couldn’t lie to him when he had the evidence in his hands.

“I.. suppose I was worried.. for my own selfish reasons. I got to wondering why you didn’t seem attracted.. to me.” Alastor glares slightly at your words, drumming his fingers against the table. He knew exactly what you meant with your words, his nose instinctively cringing up in mild disgust. He opens his mouth to speak again, but is cut off quickly by you.

“I know it’s something silly to be concerned about, it shouldn’t be a concern at all. I shouldn’t have questioned you. Dare I say it was wrong of me.” You quickly tried to explain to ease your husbands silent anger.

Alastor stayed quiet, teeth gritting as his all too fake smile cracked at the seems. He felt on edge. He couldn’t have you questioning him like this, opening him up and making him vulnerable. You made him question how well he was really hiding his true identity. You could tap in to what he was feeling and it irked him. He cleared his throat, interwining his fingers together to create a cradle for his chin to sit.

“I don’t see how your concerns are important, dear. Our relationship is fine without such activities. Do you not believe that to be true? I love you, do I not?” Alastor asked, a small smile plastered on his face.

Forced

“Do you?” You find yourself asking before you can process the question yourself. Alastor’s wide eyes make you replay your words. You gasp, covering your mouth with both hands. What were you thinking??

Both you and your husband stay quiet for a period of time, staring at each other with wide eyes. Alastor breaks his gaze, looking towards the wallpaper design in the kitchen that suddenly interested him. Your voice catches in your throat. It felt like you couldn’t speak for what felt like forever. Heavy weight on your chest when you uttered the question you’d been keeping inside since you said your I do’s.

Taking a breath to regain yourself, you look towards the stove. Scattered abandoned ingredients of what dinner was supposed to be left there. You glance towards Alastor, voice barely a whisper as you speak to him.

“I understand..” Your muttered voice doesn’t reach him, causing him to look at you and turn his head. You see him in your peripheral vision, then repeat yourself;

“I understand if you don’t.. or if you don’t want to partake in any.. intimate actions with me..” You start, grabbing a potato that had been abandoned on the counter. You start to rinse it under the sink water.

“From what I’ve read, you’re not alone. There apparently are men and women alike who don’t share an interest for sexual acts and behaviors. You’re not the only one..”

“I’m not accusing you of anything.. I’m not trying.. to make you feel bad. I just wanted to understand.. and I do. Please let me.”

Alastor stares at you while you speak. His silence feels like rejection. The same rejection you felt when you had first met him, but this was worse. Your heart ached, your chest felt tight, and your eyes felt like they were drowning in welled up tears.

You loved Alastor.

But never would you force him to return it.

You hear your husband stand from his place at the table, slow steps walking towards you. You feel his presence behind you. You silently prepare yourself for an onslaught of ‘how dare you’s and ‘who do you think you are’s.

Instead you feel warm hands hook underneath your arms, pulling you back towards Alastor’s body. Your body tenses, as you drop the vegetable you were once washing into the sink. Alastor leaned forward, resting his nose in the crook of your neck. Leaning down and hugging you tight.

Flood gates open as soft tears spill down your flushed cheeks. You gently hold onto Alastor’s arm with one hand, trying to stay perfectly still as if your husband were a stray animal. As if you move, he’d flinch away.

Alastor pulls away from your neck, looking at your face. His hand reaches up, standing straight, as he caresses one of your cheeks. He smears the tears across your cheek in an attempt to wipe them away, before leaning into you. Breath hitting yours before his lips meet yours.

Authentic

You’d never felt such a gentle and loving kiss from your husband. It felt so genuine and kind. You kiss back weakly, only hoping to make him feel the warm feeling he gave you.

Alastor never truly did understand his admiration for you. He never regretted marrying you. Of course you were always a good friend for him, one that he would work hard to keep safe. To keep you hidden away from who he was. Your happiness was always in the back of his mind as an essential. Sure he hated how you read him so easily, like it was second nature. But he hated it because if you knew the truth, you wouldn’t be safe.

He hated it because a part of him did love you.

Pulling away from the kiss, Alastor keeps you close to him, watching more soft tears fall down your face. He brings his other hand up, letting you face him while he grabs out a handkerchief from his pocket. Gently dabbing away the tears on your face, he looks at you with such soft eyes. Such genuine eyes.

“Thank you.” Is all he says. It wasn’t a satisfying answer. You wanted more than anything a long list of answers to all your worries.

But invisible weight lifts off your shoulders. Closing your eyes and letting out a breath that felt much deserved to let go. It was a solution, an answer no matter how much it truly did explain. You had made an effort to understand your husband, when most would force their ways through the barriers he set around himself. That was something Alastor could appreciate.

He never understood why you took the time in your life to be patient. Be understanding. How an angel like you ended up with the demon he was.

But he hoped you wouldn’t regret it just the way he never regretted you.

——————————BONUS———————————

“…and I told her, if she ever had a problem with him again, take it up with me! And just like that, her husband was on a platter! Such a shame, his body was almost as disgusting as his behavior!”

Alastor sipped his tea as he listened to Rosie ramble. He never broke his gaze away from her, hanging on to every word she had to say. He delicately set down his cup on the porcelain saucer. Everything about Rosie.. her charm, her personality, her humor.

It all lead back to the thought of you. Someone he admired and felt comfortable with.

“Are you alright, Al? You’re kinda gawking over there..” Rosie asked, practically seeing the gears turning in Alastor’s head. Alastor blinked out of his thoughts, watching Rosie give a smile at him and tilt her head.

“I’m fine, dear, it’s just..” Alastor glanced to the side, his signature smile softening into something genuine. “You remind me of someone.” He explained quietly.

The mention raised Rosie’s interest, ready for any gossip Alastor had to spill. She leaned in close, grinning ear to ear. “Ooo! Don’t be shy, who do I remind ya of?”

Alastor looked at Rosie and he could’ve sworn that in her midnight eyes, he could see yours. Staring back at him through his soul. How could he describe you? Someone who just knew him despite how hard he tried to hide. Someone who acknowledged him over and over again despite his own uncertainties.

“She was the dearest darling to ever grace the earth.” Alastor found himself muttering. Rosie melted at the compliment he not only gave you, but her as well. She saw genuine adoration in the radio demons eyes when he spoke of you.

While what you had with Alastor wasn’t entirely real, he wouldn’t have exchanged your marriage for anything. After all, when everyone else didn’t and refused to.

You understood.

[crusty-chronicles]

Hiei Courting Headcannons

In honor of the Live Action series (Even though I don't Have High Hopes For It)

Now, we all know Hiei is a very stubborn demon. Especially when it comes to his feelings. When he realized he liked you and didn't just tolerate your presence, he fought hard to deny it.

So what if he spent most of his time with you? Who cares that the first place he goes to after coming back from the demon world is your house? It didn't matter that his eyes seemed to soften whenever you were around.

No not one bit.

But the second Kurama threatened to court you himself, well Hiei couldn't just sit down and let that happen. Didn't that fox understand he shouldn't touch what wasn't his.

1. Showing off to see if you're interested

Hiei may be a demon, but he has some semblance of manners. His pride wouldn't allow him to claim you until you accepted his advances. Any creature who dared force themselves onto another was the lowest of the lowest.

So, his first step is showing off during fights.

Letting the enemy bloody him up more to show that injury didn't affect him.

Using more spirit energy than was needed to end another demon with just one blow

Stopping you from fighting because he'll "take care of it. You humans are too fragile."

He'll also use his Jagan more frequently.

You lost something?

Well look no further, he can track it down precisely and easily.

Praise him even once or say in passing he's really strong, and he'll take that as you being interested.

Even if you're just trying to be nice.

2. Wearing Richer Colors

I firmly believe Hiei courts more like a crow than the usual beast. He's sleek like one anyways.

Now if you didn't know, most birds attract mates with their bright feathers.

In Hiei's case, he'll start to wear dark, yet rich colors to get your attention.

Strength is one thing. Any low-class demon can demonstrate strength and be happy about it.

What Hiei is looking for is to see if you're attracted to him. If you find him visually appealing.

Though he's not a vain creature, he still yearns for the confirmation that him and him alone captivates you.

He'll start with darker blues. Maybe change up his cloak a little.

And when that doesn't work, he moves onto purples. Getting teased by Kurama for 'changing up his style.' But he stays determined.

Eventually moving onto a burgundy. And the way you were immediately drawn to him then made it worth it.

Relishing in your compliments on how 'the color really suits him' and 'it matches his eyes perfectly.'

Letting you grab at the fabric and inspect it until he asks why you like it so much.

"Well I always thought your eyes were pretty. It's nice to see something that reminds me of them."

He's a prideful smug bastard after that. Not even comments from Yusuke can tick him off that day.

3. Bringing You Shiny Objects

Once again, he courts like a crow.

Now that you've shown interest in him, it's time to properly start showing his affections.

Hiei isn't one for flirting or compliments. He's more prone to showing rather than telling. And in this case the way to do that is to bring you little trinkets that catch his eye.

Usually, it'll be small gems he stumbles across in demon world.

Rubies, diamonds, and emeralds. All things he knows where to find thanks to his prior occupation as a thief.

He's not trying to buy your affection. He knows you're not that vain judging by the pushback you always give when he presents you with a jewel.

No, rather he's trying to show that he can provide for you. That you'd never have to worry about scrounging around to survive as long as he was with you.

A protector and a provider.

He also notices how you treasure the less valuable items with as much fondness and care as the others.

He had asked you why you slept with a chunk of pyrite on your bedside one time. And your response let him know he wouldn't give up on pursuing you anytime soon.

"Because it was one of the first things you gave me. Don't you remember? You said something along the lines of fool's gold for a fool's heart. I think it's sweet you even got me something at all."

You didn't care about what he brought you. All that mattered was that it came from him.

If that didn't mean you accepted his advances, then he didn't know what would.

4. Scenting

Ah, yes. Back to the classics

Once you've accepted the gifts he's continuously given you, Hiei takes it as you liking him back.

He's aware human and demon courting processes are very different from one another.

But he's exactly not human, is he?

When it comes to demons, once you've accepted their advances, your mates.

In a sense, it's like dating. Only except a dissatisfied partner will kill the other in most cases.

With this in mind, Hiei happily accepts the fact you're his and immediately moves onto the final stage of courting.

Scenting you so that other demons know to back off.

Think of it as your last out if you realize what's happening and actually don't have feelings for him.

The scenting process will start with Hiei showing up to your place of residence and staying with you.

Not yet following you around, but making sure to spend time in each room.

If he has to leave somewhere, he'll leave either an article of clothing or his sword.

It confuses you at first and you think maybe he just trusts you.

But you start to think otherwise when he starts getting touchy.

Laying in your lap and ordering you to stay still, only to find out he's fallen asleep on you.

Or letting his face rest against the crook of your neck. Which you didn't mind all that much.

It was quite funny to see someone as tough as Hiei become completely docile around you.

You weren't too worried until he followed you out when you went to buy groceries.

"You don't like being around people. Don't you wanna stay home until I get back?" You asked him.

"I've already shown you that you're a very fragile creature compared to me. It's best I accompany you so you don't hurt yourself."

Usually you would have argued back, but it was clear something was off with him.

These past few months had been strange with him either trying to get your attention or trying to stay directly next to you.

You wouldn't figure out what it was until your other three friends showed up.

Kuwabara wanting to have a movie night and you offering your home to do it.

When the three of them arrived, you noticed Kurama and Yusuke hesitate by the entrance.

"Something wrong?" You questioned.

" I can't put my finger on it, but something's telling me I shouldn't go in." Yusuke responded.

Unawares it was Hiei's scent warding him off.

But Kurama knew. He'd known since you opened the door.

It seems Hiei had staked his claim on you.

Yet judging by your calm demeanor, you didn't know that yet.

"Have you noticed Hiei acting strange lately?" Kurama asked.

"Yes! I thought I was the only one. He's been really clingy. I mean at first it was odd he kept bringing me stuff like gems, but then he started following me around like a house cat. It's endearing, but honestly what's going on with him?" You ranted. Prompting a laugh from the redhead.

"I see. Good luck on your new relationship."

Before you could question him about what he meant, a gentle grip around your waist stopped you.

"What're you doing inviting these fools to our home. You know how long it took me to get rid of their scent the first time? It's like you want me to start the whole courting process all over again."

Courting?

Oh.

Oh.

You couldn't say you minded now that you knew what was actually going on.

[robertreich]

Are Presidents Above the Law? 

Donald Trump thinks presidents should be allowed to commit crimes. Rubbish.

Trump claims that quote, "A PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES MUST HAVE FULL IMMUNITY” from prosecution for any crime committed while in office. His lawyers even claim that a president could be immune from prosecution for having a political opponent assassinated.

Trump says anything less than total immunity would quote, "incapacitate every future president." Baloney. It would incapacitate him! He’s the only president who's been criminally charged with trying to orchestrate a violent coup on January 6th, 2021.

Trump wants to turn the U.S. president into a supreme ruler — who is not bound to the same laws that everybody else is — the very antithesis of the bedrock values this country was founded on. A president shouldn’t be above the law.

In reality, this is all part of Trump’s plan to avoid accountability. He wants to gum up the legal system to delay his federal trial until after the 2024 election. If he really believed he was innocent, wouldn’t he want to have a trial as soon as possible?

Just as bad, the Supreme Court is abetting his plan by dragging its feet.

Trump’s criminal trial in the January 6 case was supposed to begin in March. But now, it’s on hold until Trump’s immunity claim is resolved by the Supreme Court. Who knows how long that will take?

The high court could have ruled on Trump’s immunity claim immediately — which Special Counsel Jack Smith asked it to do last December. Instead, the Supreme Court accepted Trump’s request not to expedite a ruling. Trump’s immunity claim then went slowly through the lower courts, which, not surprisingly, found that, no, presidents DO NOT have carte blanche to commit crimes.

The Supreme Court then had another chance to expedite a ruling on this, but it took weeks even to set a date for arguments.

The Supreme Court can move quickly when it wants to. When Trump appealed Colorado’s decision to keep him off the state ballot, the Supreme Court rushed to get a ruling out before the Colorado primary. Shouldn’t the court move with the same urgency on Trump’s immunity claim? Otherwise, Trump’s January 6th trial may not be decided before the presidential election.

Voters are entitled to know before casting their ballots whether they are choosing a felon for president.

[aminul-24]

´Tis the season(ing)!!

[recklessfiction]

The Many Happenings within the Palace

The Queen has given birth to a wolf. Her screams had echoed through the halls, only to be joined, after a moment, by the high, pitiable cries of the animal. He is a good lad, named Roderick by his grandfather. You wonder at the father, who, indeed, it could be, as the king died many years prior and was, decidedly, not a wolf.

A lord from a neighboring kingdom visited in the winter. His manner was jolly and his behavior most cordial. Many a lady had their eye on him, and you could see, through his swagger, that he knew it too. His face did nothing to deter them, as you had perhaps thought a skull might, but the ladies saw no issue with his lack of flesh. Indeed, they seemed to find the empty pits of his eye sockets most appealing.

A witch has put a curse on the princess. She sings, night and day, for hours on end, standing at the window of her boudoir. At first it was pleasant, a sweet voice rising over the city. All would stop to listen, enraptured by the sound of her songs. Then the fighting broke out, among heroes and kings, their minds lost to her voice like she was a siren. War would have broken out had the Queen not stepped in. The princess still sings, but her voice has become a mere croak and painful to hear; you cannot imagine the pain she goes through. The physician says she has done such damage to her throat that she will soon lose the ability to speak entirely if the curse is not reversed. You are still looking for a knight brave enough to go after the witch.

You have been given a quest to gain the favour of a dragon. On paper, he is no king, not even an earl or a lord, however he has claimed much of the land to the West as his own and the people have made no move against it, rather they seem to have accepted their strange new ruler with open arms. The Queen has asked you go to him, present yourself as an emissary of this court and ingratiate yourself with him. It is expected that you will be gone for some time but you have yet to start packing.

As it so happens, the court's jester, Harriett, has just pronounced herself to be Bjorg, the great goddess of Death. She did so during the new wolf-prince's christening, bursting into flame during a comical rendition of Ave Maria. Her face after this was a struggle to look upon, but her quips, though spoken with the voice of a dying old man, still had the court in shambles.

Another man has been lost to the woods, an old farmer just down the road from the Monastery. You saw him standing at the treeline when you went to look into it, but you did not dare approach, not when he was looking at you in that way, and certainly not when you saw the child standing just behind him. You told yourself you would not fall for their tricks, their temptations, again. But their attacks are beginning to move dangerously close to the Abbey. You will need to mention it to the Queen and the Bishop before you leave.

The Lady Carolina has finally presented herself to the court! You had heard that she had arrived perhaps four months ago, a ward of the Queen but no one had seen her. She had arrived in the dead of night and had been hastily brought to her rooms. There has been no concrete word of why she had come, only gossip to which you pay no mind. A fortnight ago, she joined in the anniversary celebration of the King's death. She is just as you thought she might be; lovely and with eyes that, while bright and bewildered, were intelligent and watchful. The rumours of her bright blue feathers and fine golden talons were not amiss either and you found yourself watching her for much of the night. It is a shame you will be gone on your quest before you have another opportunity to be introduced but perhaps when you return, you might inquire as to her health.

[lovelykhaleesiii]

I love Egg/chubby Aegon. I feel that it is so attractive. 😭 But hey, this morning at university I came up with a TOTALLY DISTURBING AND GROSS idea. I would love for you to accept this request and write to my tough, horny, BIG DICK Aegon together with a young wife (Helaena lives happily in the country with a man who loves her) redhead and "fragile" high on Dornish herbs begging her husband totally horrified at the idea of ​​sharing a bed with her husband's brother in the face of his lord's infertility. ‼️I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE.

I'm so sorry for my English, it's horrible.

we are the same, chubby Egg is god-tier to me 😫🥵 getting flustered just thinking of him!!

apologies this took me forever to respond to, I appreciate you sending in the request (& your English is fine) 💖 hope you enjoy x

Splendid Husband, Obedient Wife.

PAIRING: chubby!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader x Aemond Targaryen.

WORDS: 3,864.

WARNINGS: mentions of infertility, oral (female) receiving, p in v sexual intercourse, swearing, hint of cheating (?), mentions of alcohol abuse, NSFW.

A/N - gosh I hope you really like this, I got sooo carried away in the fic so apologies it turned out long, but I found my way back!!! idk why but since having a mini hiatus, I feel a little nervous writing, but here we are!! enjoy lovely x

These past few, joyous months had been memorable yet fleeting. Betrothed to the Prince himself, Aegon Targaryen, Second of His Name, neither of you could've imagined how overly satisfied you would have been with each other upon meeting. Aegon was breath-taken by you the moment he caught you lonesomely wandering through the stony, ancient castle corridors, meeting you hours before the scheduled feast. You were taken aback by your husband to be, having heard viper-quick whispers, his notorious reputation preceding him, initially made you doubtful the union would survive prior to having met the man. Although, Aegon had quashed such vile allegations with much determination.

He was tender when it came matters relating to you, not wishing to cause unnecessary haste and spectacle, he was surprisingly quite grounded. If he could avoid conflict, he would, you both rarely got into arguments since he always listened to your opinions, always probing and advocating for your to speak and voice your concerns or judgements. His persona quite charming and meek with you, exterior wise, he did impose more of an oppposing effect, which also could've explained why you remained so guarded during the initial acquaintance stage. He seemed rather ruggard and rough, his Targaryen blonde hair remained short and unkempt, unlike his younger brothers. The Prince over the years had also developed a larger frame, despite having kept up with regular combat training, his gluttonous appetite to feast and drink was far more impressive, than any other young man in court. If you were being frank, it was actually appealing to you: it made him look brute, convincing you he was a force not to be reckoned with, and it seemed many shared this mutual belief, for no one dared to openly spare with Aegon in the training yard nor during council meetings.

He was rather a splendid husband, and an even more seasoned lover.

He did confess, during his youth and prior to meeting you, he did spend most of his lonely nights in the carnal company of whores and prostitutes. Hearing widespread rumours, even before your betrothal, of the Prince having sired bastards with these unknown women, you'd never come to see of any 'proof' for Aegon did not relish in speaking nor rekindling of such desolate memories.

"I was in a terrible place, my dearest. And I know, that is no valid excuse for how I acted nor carried myself, and yet I somehow ended up so lucky... With you."

He was not proud of such dark endeavours, upon thorough reflection and now being a married man devoted to his wife, Aegon was regretful of his youthful decisions. Although, during such a dark time in his life, he did not think it possible for someone to love him. To genuinely love him, without any political agenda nor catch to the arrangement. And despite, your betrothal being arranged between two highborn houses, undeniably, your love naturally blossomed like a lily in the spring.

However, unsurprisingly, people often spoke quietly, amongst themselves, yet harshly of your union. Always eager to stir the pot, and with time having passed since the exquisite marriage ceremony, the target was you.

"It has been three long months, Aegon, and your wife is still not yet with child." His discerning mother provoked: Alicent conditioned from a young age, believed this to be a serious concern that she'd often expressed amongst you three in private.

Since the viscous rumours began to spread like sprouts of weed amongst the court, Alicent had been even more persistent with her eldest son to conceive an heir with you. And although, the sex with Aegon was far from scarce, you had not yet fallen pregnant, which eventually made you anxious, as to whether your body was capable to breed. The question that poisoned your mind, was whether the culprit of infertility was Aegon, himself, or you…

“And how are we to figure this out, Aegon? For all I know, I may be the rotten spouse, useless in performing her wifely duties. They’ll have you marry another, more vibrant, more fertile lady, as you toss me aside out of sight and mind,” You tensely spat, carefully seating yourself down by the foot of the king-sized bed, your mind anxiously pondering over your dreaded future. You had an awful habit of picking and biting your nails, and Aegon had grown familiar with this, a blatant sign of distress.

Hastily he knelt before you, his large, rough hands gripped over yours, to stop you from picking at yourself, his touch halting your haste train of thought.

“We shall figure this out, my dearest. Trust… I will find a solution. You need not to worry of what others think, nor would I ever think to discard you in such a way. You are mine, as I am yours. I am bound to you till the end of time.”

A faint, half-hearted smile beams against your tender face, as you focus and cup Aegon’s portly, familiar face. To think of the possibility, that you might be the reason hindering Aegon from having children of his own, pains your heart achingly and yet, through the adversity, he remains still unfalteringly by your side. The fears settle for now, as a warm calm washes over your body, tears that had initially swelled in your eyes from sadness, now shed with the relief of joy, as you plant a soft kiss on Aegon’s forehead. You have faith in your husband, as he remains devoted to you. You trust that Aegon’s determined nature, he will find a way to give you a child, whether the Gods deemed it natural or not…

****

“Aegon, dearest, you cannot be serious? I truly hope you realise, what you are asking of me!” You frustratingly shout, as Aegon storms towards you in a haste, his hands gesturing for you to quieten down, as he takes a quick glance towards the main door, before focusing his attention solely on you.

“Y/N, you and I both know this is the only way we could ever really know if either I am the problem or there may be something hindering you from carrying. It’s either this or I sleep with another woman. And I swore even before our marriage, I would never even think to look at another... And besides, if you happen to fall with child, the resemblance would be uncanny! No one would ever know besides us three, and it shall remain that way, right brother?-”

Instinctively, both Aegon and yourself gradually turned to face Aemond, who remained silently and comfortably seated on the opposing end of the room, near the active fireplace. He seemed distracted in his own deep thoughts, as his gaze lingered across the dancing orange flames, the shadows and light perfectly outlining the sharp details and silhouette of his face. Aegon called for him again, managing to snap the younger back to reality facing your direction. A stoic look remained donned across his handsome face, although his eye remained fixated on you.

"Yes. Of course. Not a living should shall hear of such... Treason," Aemond teasingly uttered, a sly smirk appearing on his face, as he playfully fiddled with some sort of stone in his long fingers. His eye turned from Aegon, to you before resuming the direction of the flames once more. He seemed unphased and yet he did not disagree to such an unlawful scheme.

Why that was, you could not say with certainty. Perhaps this could be something he could hold over Aegon's head, which only infuriated you more. Potentially passing his bastard son as Aegon's rightful heir... It was dangerous, although the only viable option. The pressure of the realm, the tiresome burden of the expectations felt all too real these past few weeks, and this option was the only source of relief.

"And what if I do not fall pregnant, then what, Aegon? You would have no use of me, I would mean nothing to you. You have sired bastards before with unknown women, why not yet with me-"

"Don't say that-" One hand immediately stretched out reaching over towards yours that dangled hopelessly by your side, and his other reaching over towards your flustered cheek, his thumb grazing over your soft skin.

His height, although not as tall as his youngest, still towered over your polite frame. The distance now closed, you could examine the heartache struck across his face, as his glistening, lilac eyes lingered over you.

"Don't you ever speak those words again. You mean everything to me. With or without a child, Y/N, I shall love you always. You are mine. Mayhaps I have had a few children, although that was when I was young and futile, perhaps the drinking has rendered me impotent..."

You remain defeated in silence, engraining Aegon's sincere words into the core of your troubled mind, although feel another lingering gaze peering towards you. Hesitantly you turn ever so slightly towards Aemond direction, only to notice he'd been observing you both intently the entire time, his head slightly tilted in your direction, you'd caught him watching from his peripheral vision. You couldn't help but notice a sorrowful hint across his face, the smirk that had once eagerly occupied his lips, now disappeared, remaining pursed, before his eye dropped towards the view of the stony, cold floor.

"Y-You promise you'll stay with me," Your voice softly broke, as you choked against your words. Hot tears began to swell in your eyes, for you felt the guilt of betrayal fester in the pit of your stomach. Aegon would argue that this be a lesson for his past transgressions, and yet he did not disprove nor fight... He accepted what needed to be done.

"I promise, baby. It'll just be like how we always do it, okay?" His hand that cupped your face, now gently gripped your chin, as his thumb traced over your bottom lip. His sweet, upturned smile gleaming on his face, as he stroked away the few tears that managed to stream down.

"You may prepare yourself however you need to brother, I'll get her ready."

****

Aegon stayed true to his word, he mindfully eased you into the act. Wanting to warm your body up for the hopeful conception, undressing you, soothing you into the mindset to fuck.

"Such a good, good girl for me, so obedient."

He breathlessly whispered, in between each passionate kiss. His larger frame hovered atop of yours sprawled against the wide, soft bed. His trousers remained on, however his chest bare, his fleshy tummy pressed against your own, weighing you down as one hand glid gently across the sides of thigh, whilst the other supported your neck, shoving your face deeper into his as you kissed. Aegon being slightly heavier, he often succumbed to his weight, pinning himself down even more against your smaller body, and in this precise moment, you could feel his throbbing cock hardening against your exposed cunt.

"Hmm, Aegon-" You carelessly moan, the heat of your breath leaving a small, fade of moisture against his plump skin, as his lips escape yours.

He begins to leave a soft, wet trail of kisses down your neck line, making his way slowly towards the cleavage of your breasts, causing your body to eagerly shudder against his suckling motion. Hitting your sensitive spot, a small giggle escaped your lips, and moments after, you could feel Aegon's smile appearing against your skin in response.

"That's it baby, be the good girl that I know you are for me-"

As he repositioned his body further down, aligning his face towards the entrance of your now moist cunt, your gaze from the ceiling, as you opened your lustful eyes, down towards Aegon, you momentarily glimpsed as he gestured for his brother to join, tilting towards your direction.

Aemond now stripped naked, his body far more slimmer and lean than his older brother, you easily noticed the trace and outline of his prominent muscles. Although you greatly favoured Aegon's body and layer of fat that molded against his muscles, you could not deny that Aemond was a handsome figure also. It seemed the image of the Targaryens, regardless of shape nor size, were created authentically and yet so perfectly, by the favour of the Gods.

Laying himself cautiously down by your side, as though not to tease the risk of startling you, your unphased focus remained reciprocated towards each other, and yet there was no hesitation on Aemond's part, as his hand reaching over towards your face, as his long fingers gently seeped their way into the strands of your hair.

"Do not fret, Y/N. I am only here to perform my duty to the realm-"

And without a second to spare, Aemond's defined lips plummeted down against yours, where Aegon's once met. You felt that dreadful feeling beginning to entice in the depths of your stomach, an uneasy feeling churning as his tongue managed to peak its way through the gap of your mouth. Although, the sudden, reassuring squeeze of Aegon's hand in yours, as he looked up towards you, a small, warm smile reappearing on his face, your felt yourself beginning to give into the kiss.

"My sweet, sweet girl," Aegon's familiar, deep voice proclaimed, before his face began to comfortably nestle between your inner thighs. His mouth now agape at your entrance, his warm, wet tongue now began to lap at your wet folds, licking up the wetness that began to seep through, shoving himself deeper and deeper as he ate you out.

"Hmm", a low growl escaped your beloved husband's ravenous mouth, as Aegon's hands each snaked around your soft thighs, firmly pulling your legs further and further apart, in an attempt to widen the space to accomodate for his broad frame. Although he also felt the primal urge to widen your entrance more, as he delved his thick tongue deeper into your cunt, burying his face into the sensitive crevice of your wet entrance. He was known for his large appetite and that never stopped with feasts, he was always starving for your sweet, delicate taste.

As Aegon remained occupied below, Aemond found himself beginning to gain confidence and familiarity up top. Remaining by your side, slightly higher above you, his lean arms now snaked around your waist, in a poor and slight attempt to turn your body more towards him, as his lips remained encased against yours. Although, with Aegon's weight below, pinning you down from turning completely, your upper body remained slightly tilted towards him, one of his hands supporting your back from beneath as to not strain you, whilst the other began to firmly massage the swollen cup of your breast.

"A-Aemond-" You pleasantly whisper, uncertain of whether you wished for the moment to cease nor continue, you could not say. Aegon's tongue encircling your clit, whilst Aemond massaged the sweet spots of your tender breast, you lost the power of your own consciousness, helpless against the actions of the Targaryen brothers.

"Say it, Princess. Say my name, just like that-"

"Aemond" You moaned again, obedient to the younger brother's stern words, that he growled against your ear, it naturally sent a thrill of shivers coursing down your spine. Instinctively, a visceral reaction to the electrifying licking of Aegon's tongue between your inner folds, often grazing over your clit, your hips thrust forward, as your back arched, craving for more.

The oozing remnants of your cum that escaped Aegon's eager, ravenous mouth, would drip through the gaps and crevices down your inner thighs. Traces smothering against Aegon's plump cheeks form the jerky movements the sprung between you two.

"Okay brother, she's ready when you are-" And without a minute to spare, as though the brothers miraculously communicated telepathically, they jumped into action. Aegon breathless, stood himself up from the bed, leaving his younger brother to finish his mess. He attended to himself, hastily wiping his mouth clean with his hand, licking your sweet aftertaste from his fingers, as though he'd just devoured a succulent roast, savouring the moment, as he seated himself by the vacant seat near the dim fireplace. Aemond on the other hand, now positioned himself swiftly over you, his tip hovering over your entrance, before easing himself in. You'd closely noticed he was not as thick as his brother, as you easily took his mass between your folds, he did not stretch you out as his eldest brother would, however his cock was long and veiny, able to bury himself deeper into you.

"Are you okay?" He uttered, his eye fleeting over your tender, flustered face. You hadn't realised the precise moment he'd removed the notorious black, leather eye patch, as now a sapphire gem glistened back at you, in replacement of his lost eye.

"Y-Yes, I'm okay."

Slowly, ever so carefully, Aemond began to pace his thrusts, adjusting to your walls naturally clenching around his cock, you were unaware of whether Aemond had previously laid with a woman or not, although he seemed knowledgable enough to know what was required of him and how it needed to be done...

"Fuck-" He lowly moaned, as he shut his eyes instinctively, gradually beginning to fasten his pace. Aegon was often sloppy and slow when it came to fucking you, occasionally when he was close to his climax did he manage to gather some speed, although being a larger man, his endurance was easily exhausted, and he required periods of rest. Otherwise, he much preferred you working for it.

Aemond on the other hand, was eager to gain momentum himself, rather him putting in the effort. His body began to weight itself down against the forces of gravity, shoving and readjusting himself between your legs. Your arms had instinctively wrapped around Aemond's back, clinging to his muscular shoulders, for steadiness. You took his readjusting as a sign to bend them further up, bringing your knees up forward, as many woman had advised you in private councils, this to be an effective method to successfully take a man's seed.

You ashamedly couldn't bring yourself to turn to face Aegon, uncertain if he watched on closely as his younger brother fucked himself inside his own wife, or if he dared not burn the image into his memory. Regardless, it was happening, and if he wanted to he could've stopped it in a heartbeat, although no protest came from his end.

"Ugh, fuck-" Aemond repeatedly uttered, his breathing more shallow and fast, his head now resting against the side of your head, his grip on your hip and the other behind the crook of your sweaty neck tightened naturally. You mustered all the possible strength and will power you could, to not moan in response to Aemond's penetration, your lips pressed and pursed tightly, against the feeling of his cock throbbing intensely from within, occasionally managing to hit your sweet spot. His long, platinum hair had been he'd tied back into a low ponytail, as to keep it away from irritating your face, although your fingers found their way towards the back of his scalp, eagerly tugging at its roots.

"I'm so fucking close-" He panted, before groaning audibly, you were certain Aegon heard... Almost a bashful look struck across his chiseled, sweaty face, as he failed to maintain eye contact with you, turning to look up towards the head of the bed. It made you blush to think that you were causing such a visceral, feral reaction from the younger Prince.

The feeling of his warm load coating your insides, caused a much anticipated exhale of breath to escape your moist mouth, leaving your chest to heave in exhaustion, as your tits jiggled with each breath. Aemond's remained inside for a few minutes, making sure you took all of his seed well enough, he took the moment to compose his breathing too, as his hands stretched out on each side, cowering over you.

"The deed is done, brother-" Aemond breathlessly, uttered, as now he removed himself from within you, standing himself up off the bed, whilst Aegon returned to your side.

Hastily, he grabbed a set of fluffed pillows, from the head of the bed, positioning them just below your hips and bottom, causing your lower body to incline.

"Stay like this baby, it will help let the seed travel through you." He'd also managed to gather a blanket for you, as he covered your naked self, seating himself by your side, as he prepared a wet cloth to wipe over your forehead.

Still slightly breathless, you couldn't help though feel the hot tears begin to swell and fall from your eyes, as you examined what you had assumed was a dejected look on Aegon's face. You felt immensely guilty, and had wished he had not witnessed what he'd witnessed.

"I-I'm so sorry Aegon, how could you ever look at me the same."

His brows furrowed in haste, saddened once more by your words, he edged himself closer towards you, shushing you easily like a babe.

"Don't you ever think that, Y/N. This was my plan, my decision. I need to know if I am truly the problem, and if so what is to be done. This had to happen baby, do not think otherwise... Be thankful, Aemond was a willing candidate, he will not speak a word of this rest assured."

You stifle your cries, as Aegon parallel wipes away your fallen tears, and the strands of mottled hair. Aemond in the meantime, remains quiet and reserved, occupied with redressing himself, perhaps he too, feels ashamed.

"You promise to stop the drinking, no more ale, or wine or beer. And that you'll see the maester for some cure or remedy?" You persist, as you reach to grab Aegon's hand in yours.

"I promise I will," Aegon utters, leaning down towards you as he plants a soft kiss on your warm forehead, exchanging soft smiles with one another.

You turn to face Aemond with a thankful look, although he immediately cowers his gaze towards the floor.

"Perhaps I should leave-" Aemond awkwardly suggests, his focus fleeting from his brother to you, only to return back towards the ground, the faint sounds of his feet shuffling anxiously.

"Aemond-" You stretch out a hand over towards the mattress, and hesitantly Aemond returns the favour, holding your hand in his.

"I, well- We both do genuinely appreciate you for doing this. I understand it's an unimaginable thing to ask of someone, especially the secrecy that is to come with it, but rest assured... If the Gods do bless me with a child, I shall be honoured for you to remain present in the babe's life."

Aemond slowly nods his head in agreement to your words, a shy smile forming over his handsome, young face as your grip of him tightens reassuringly.

"The honour was mine, that you both entrusted me with this responsibility. I would wish for nothing more than that, thank you, Y/N. Although, I trust you both shall make dutiful, happy parents, by the efforts you both have gone to... The babe shall be blessed with a loving family, indeed."

[theshadowsingersraven]

this nyxlin drama lowkey reminds me of the time a zutara artist was run off tumblr because they drew aged up katara/zuko romantically, but I think it was actually angry kataang’s or e/riel’s -because they also drew gwynriel and e/riel’s were jealous- who were stirring up shit 😭

That would honestly make a lot of sense for how/why I didn't see many posts from them or overall in the Nyxlin tag when I was catching up on what happened. Pretty much every person (notably largely Elriels) who supported Elain Week's censorship got an insta-block from me if they weren't already. And I'm sure a decent amount of people blocked me from my stance on Elaingate, Rhys Week, and Nyxlin Week.

And good! You should block me. Seriously. Art has the right to be celebrated and appreciated, especially in the circumstances designed to do that for a specific character and dynamic! Character appreciation and celebration will never look the same to everyone, and just because it's not what you enjoy doesn't mean it stops being appreciative or celebratory. If you can't grasp that, you don't deserve access to my art anyway. You certainly don't deserve to be in my space, that's for damn sure. Kindly, get out.

Honestly, it kind of makes sense considering the overlap of canon rigidity, purity culture, and morality policing of fiction coming from sides of the fandom that generally can't accept criticism about their faves, or even things that go against what they want for their faves. They are terrified of creativity that doesn't give them what they want and it shows. It's the most Evangelical-ass shit ever, and it's fucking weird.

Like...for all intents and purposes, Nyx is an OC in any works that feature him. And I'd know, because I wrote an adult Nyx for my ongoing ACOTAR D&D campaign set 20 years after ACOSF. So yes, Nyx is twenty in my timeline, because it's writing and I can do what I want lol. I have no basis to write Nyx off of other than Rhys and Feyre. Which means...I'm still doing my own character-building to only less than I would for a completely new OC.

Let's compare, shall we?

Writing my OC Solara's backstory: Writing her parents from scratch ✔️ Writing her early childhood ✔️ Writing her trauma ✔️ Writing her adolescence and relationships ✔️ Writing her interests and adventures as she became an adult✔️ Writing her dynamic with her love interest and how she interacts with Prythian as a whole ✔️

Now obviously these are all at minimum influenced by/will be derivative of aspects of ACOTAR because, y'know, transformative works. But still, I made her.

Writing Nyx's backstory and how he is as a twenty-year-old adult: Writing his parents from scratch ❌ Writing his early childhood ✔️ Writing any trauma he might have ✔️ Writing his adolescence and relationships ✔️ Writing his interests and adventures as he became an adult ✔️ Writing his dynamic (collaboratively) with his love interest and how he interacts with Prythian as a whole ✔️

And this is a version of Nyx that I made. Yes, it's still influenced by canon, but if I put in 90% of the same effort to write him as an adult as I did a complete OC, we can acknowledge they're functionally the same.

It's not that people look at Baby!Nyx and instantly think he's perfect to be shipped with someone and there's something to be gleaned from canon about him in particular. We know nothing about Nyx as an individual. That applies to any Nyx ship.

The appeal, at least in my experience, to Nyx ships, including Nyxlin, is the dynamics at play around Nyx, i.e., his role as an eventual leader and powerful figure in the Night Court, the dynamics that affect Rhys and Feyre also extending to him, how the rest of Prythian/Illyria might view the first offspring of High Fae, Illyrian, and Made parents. It's about his circumstances, not him as a character because he is not a "character yet", he just exists!

People are just creative enough to consider those long-term effects on who he could become and how that interplays with other characters. I don't mean to be cruel, but genuinely, have these people never created an OC before? Have they never shipped anything outside of canon? Have they never read any fics featuring time travel, for example, as a plot point to get characters in the same era at the same time when otherwise the ship would not be able to happen? Are they that unfamiliar with making circumstances outside of SJM's canon to allow things to happen for fun?

Genuinely, the lack of creativity for all of us being in this for reading and writing is concerning.

Even just saying this and advocating for Nyxlin's right to be celebrated as well as Tamlin as a whole pretty much puts me in the position of having to tag this as pro-Tamlin. And I wouldn't even describe myself as anything other than Pro-Azriel and probably Pro-Nesta and Pro-Elain because I don't really dislike any characters. I'm equally as critical to all of them and if their good parts just sort of cancel out the bad or are only a bit outweighing one or the other...I don't actively dislike them, I'm just neutral about them.

But this fandom is so fucking polarized because of the toxicity and the Us v.s. Them, Morality Policing culture that's been festering, people can't even neutrally address something. People are harassed so quickly just for not understanding or being familiar with something, and then in the other court people do the harassing because they don't understand or aren't familiar with something the other party likes/dislikes. If don't utterly despise Tamlin, it's somehow considered supportive enough to qualify as "pro" to antis.

Too many people in this fanbase create this parasocial-adjacent attachment to these characters like they're real and have real feelings/boundaries that need to be protected. They are not! Characters can't be hurt by anything happening outside the narrative. Just because you personally do not like something/don't find it appealing or even find it discomforting does not mean it's morally objectionable. It's just not for you, and understanding that experiencing content not made for you is not an attack on you is kind of a necessary life skill.

This rant ended up way longer than I expected it to be, but anyway...y'all stay safe out there.

[anonymousewrites]

A Study of the Heart and Brain (Book 4) Epilogue

Father Figure! Sherlock Holmes x Teen! Reader

Epilogue: Brave Heart and Clever Brain

Summary: It's time for the rest of (Y/N)'s life to begin.

Mouse Note: And it's a wrap for A Study of the Heart and Brain. Wow. I can't believe so many years of this story have already gone by! Purple, Sherlock, and John have been so close to my heart for so long that it's sad to say goodbye, but I'm happy to say that they have happy lives in front of them. Thank you so much for all the support you've given to me over the years! I'll miss you all and hope to see you back for future projects! Thank you! This has been an amazing experience!

            “John’s calling,” said (Y/N) as they put a new skull on the mantle of the rebuilt 221B. It had taken time and effort (and money they blackmailed Mycroft into getting), but the flat was back. Their home was back.

            “I hate answering calls,” said Sherlock.

            “I’m going to answer it,” said (Y/N). They pressed the accept button. “Hello, John.”

            “Sherlock, (Y/N),” said John. “I think you better get round here.”

            Sherlock and (Y/N) exchanged a look.

l

            John held the disc that read “MISS YOU” on the top. Solemnly, he put it into the DVD player, and the TV turned on.

            Mary’s face greeted them once more. She smiled. “P.S,” she said.

            It was the next part of her original message. Sherlock, John, and (Y/N) leaned forward.

            “I know you three,” said Mary. “And if I’m gone, I know what you could become. Because I know who you really are. A junkie who solves crimes to get high. The doctor who never came home from the war. And the teenager who is too smart for their own good. Will you listen to me? Who you really are, it doesn’t matter. It’s all about the legend, the stories, the adventures. There is a last refuge for the desperate, the unloved, the persecuted. There is a final court of appeal for everyone. When life gets too strange, too impossible, too frightening, there is always one last hope. When all else fails, there are three people sitting, arguing in a scruffy flat, like they’ve always been there and they always will. The best and wisest people I have ever known, my Baker Street family, Sherlock Holmes, (Y/N) Holmes, and Dr. Watson.”

            (Y/N) smiled.

l

            “Congratulations!” cheered Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, and John. Rosie babbled in John’s arms. Mycroft lifted his drink but didn’t cheer.

            (Y/N) grinned and proudly held up the signed adoption papers. They had already been part of the Holmes family for years, but this just made it even more official.

            “That’s my kid!” said Sherlock, smiling ear-to-ear.

            He hugged (Y/N) tightly, and they hugged him back. Their home was whole once more. 221B was rebuilt. John was back. Even Eurus had started to smile when playing, and Mr. and Mrs. Holmes had gotten to hear her play with Sherlock and (Y/N).

            They were going to be okay. They were okay. The Holmes family was together.

            A knock at the door. (Y/N) turned to it.

            “No one else was invited,” said John, frowning.

            “I’ll send off the client,” huffed Mrs. Hudson.

            “No, no, it’s a guest,” said Sherlock.

            “Who?” (Y/N) tilted their head.

            “I invited them to dinner.” Sherlock smiled.

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened, and they moved to the door in a moment.

            “Who—” John watched (Y/N) throw the door open.

            “Good evening, everyone.” Irene Adler smiled, dressed in purple dress and heels.

            “Irene,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “Oh, god,” groaned Mycroft.

            “You texted her back,” said John, grinning at Sherlock.

            “For (Y/N),” said Sherlock.

            John shook his head fondly.

            “Thanks for coming,” said (Y/N) as they walked to the living room with Irene.

            “Of course,” said Irene. She looked at them. “Are you doing alright? I heard about what happened. I thought the call was strange.”

            Mycroft sighed, knowing one of his men had been compromised and told her everything, but (Y/N) was just happy.

            “I’m doing fine,” said (Y/N).

            Irene patted their cheek. “Good.” She leaned in briefly. “And I meant every word.”

            (Y/N) ducked their head. “I did, too.”

            Irene smiled at them. “I’m glad.” She turned towards the table. “How is everyone feeling?” She looked at Mycroft and smirked. “I’ve heard your position as the ‘clever one’ of the family has been usurped.”

            “It has not,” said Mycroft indignantly.

            “I’m smarter than you,” said (Y/N), looking at him and smirking. “I’m the smartest Holmes.”

            “I agree with them,” said Sherlock.

            Mycroft rolled his eyes and looked at Irene. “You are quite daring to return here.”

            “Am I?” remarked Irene innocently, sitting down.

            (Y/N) watched their family begin to interact with one another and smiled. They looked at Sherlock. “You actually invited her.”

            “Your whole family is here,” said Sherlock, smiling at them.

            (Y/N) hugged him. “Thank you, Dad. Thank you so much. For finding me, for teaching me, for loving me.”

            Sherlock hugged him back. “I’d do it a thousand times. I love you, (Y/N).”

            “I love you, too, Dad,” said (Y/N). They had everything they needed. Love, family, a brave heart, and a clever brain. They had everything they ever wanted.

l

Years later…

            “You be good for Mrs. Hudson, alright?” John looked at a now toddler Rosie with a smile.

            Rosie nodded. “Uh-huh.”

            “And if Sherlock told you to see what would happen if you do…anything…don’t do it,” said John.

            Rosie just smiled, and John groaned. Unfortunately, he couldn’t help looking at her fondly.

            “(Y/N), you ready?” said Sherlock.

            An adult (Y/N) nodded as they entered the room. They pulled on a long purple coat. “Of course.” They smirked. “I’m always ready. After all…” They tossed Sherlock’s deerstalker to him. “The game is on.”

Taglist:

@stilesstilinskiforlife-blog

@im-making-an-effort

@ilse235

@schrodingers-intelligence

@awsedrftgyhujikol

@lxserthxngzzz

@forever1313

@mentallyunstablemanlover

@roo024

@ohimjustagirlidrathetnotbe

@snowy-violet

@jaguarthecat

[feminist-space]

"Two landlord lobbying groups are petitioning the Supreme Court to overturn New York City’s rent stabilization law, which would allow further countrywide challenges to rent control. Real estate billionaires friendly with court justices are backing the move.

...

Samuel Stein, a housing policy analyst at the Community Service Society, an anti-poverty organization in New York, said that if the Supreme Court were to overturn the rent stabilization law, “It’s the end of New York City.”

“Rents would go up significantly around the city,” he continued. “There will be a tremendous amount of displacement. You will have a lot of people leaving New York City, you will have a lot of homelessness, you’ll have a lot of overcrowding.”

A high court ruling wouldn’t just reshape New York, but would also pave the way for legal challenges to the dozens of rent control laws that exist around the country, and many more currently being considered. For example, in 2024, Californians will vote on a ballot measure to repeal the state’s ban on rent control.

At least one group petitioning the court to take the case has substantial ties to both Harlan Crow, the GOP megadonor and Justice Clarence Thomas benefactor, and Paul Singer, the hedge fund billionaire who provided an undisclosed private jet flight to Justice Samuel Alito.

...

The challenge to New York’s rent stabilization law was brought by two major New York landlord lobbying groups: the Rent Stabilization Association (RSA) and the Community Housing Improvement Program (CHIP).

The two organizations spent a combined $4.7 million lobbying as they pushed to block the passage of a sweeping tenant protection law in 2019. The law, which expanded rent stabilization from just New York City to any locality in the state that chooses to opt in, made it more difficult for landlords to remove units from rent stabilization and added new protections to rent-stabilized units.

Just after the law passed, the groups sued the city and state, arguing that the new law and New York City’s existing 1969 rent stabilization law are unconstitutional.

The lawsuit from RSA and CHIP was dismissed by lower courts, most recently the federal Second Circuit Court of Appeals. But the groups claimed that their intention was always to reach the Supreme Court.

...

O Over the summer, a flurry of corporate lobbying groups and conservative think tanks submitted amicus briefs urging the Supreme Court to take the case. One of these think tanks has close financial ties to the Supreme Court’s billionaire benefactors.

The ties to Crow, a Texas real estate mogul, are salient as Congress urges the Justice Department to investigate Thomas’s alleged repeated violations of federal ethics laws, in part by accepting a series of undisclosed luxury gifts from Crow over two decades.

...

CHIP and RSA themselves represent major corporate landlords in New York, even as they have often claimed to be the voice of mom-and-pop landlords. (The two groups are reportedly considering merging.)

Major real estate and corporate lobbying groups are urging the high court to hear the case, including the California Business Roundtable, the Real Estate Board of New York, the US Chamber of Commerce, the National Apartment Association.

The Supreme Court will decide on the petition on September 26. If they accept it, justices will decide the case during their 2023–2024 term."

[comeonamericawakeup]

"If you're rich enough," said Moira Donegan, "you can now pay off state and local officials." That's the astonishing message sent by the conservative Supreme Court majority in Snyder v. U.S. The case centered on an Indiana mayor who'd been found guilty of corruption for taking a $13,000 check from a trucking company after he had awarded them a $1 million contract. He appealed, arguing he hadn't accepted a bribe, since the payment came after he awarded the company a contract, not before. "Absurdly," the high court agreed. Justice Brett Kavanaugh stated in the majority opinion that gifts given to an official could be seen as a "gratuity" for good service, like tipping a waiter. Kavanaugh contrived a difference between explicit quid pro quo deals and "mere tokens of appreciation," even when those tokens are worth thousands of dollars. To see how modern influence peddling works, look no further than Justices Samuel Alito and Clarence Thomas, who've accepted lavish "gifts" from Republican billionaires delighted with their far-right rulings. It's no coincidence these justices have now given a green light to other public officials to embrace "exactly the sort of corruption that they partake of so conspicuously themselves."

THE WEEK JULY 19, 2024

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Peter Montgomery at RWW:

Christian nationalist leaders want to force Americans to live in accordance with their religious and political beliefs, and they have a plan to make it happen. They are demanding that future Republican presidents and senators consider only potential Supreme Court justices who meet the American Family Association’s “biblical worldview” standard. Yes, it is that brazen. Religious-right leaders who have endorsed the project want to impose a de facto religious test on the Supreme Court, a violation of constitutional principles and the American values of religious freedom and pluralism.   Right Wing Watch broke the story about this Supreme Court scheme last year after Phillip Jauregui presented it during a breakout session at the Family Research Council’s 2023 Pray Vote Stand conference.  Jauregui, a longtime activist in support of right-wing judges, now runs the Center for Judicial Renewal as a project of AFA Action, the American Family Association’s political advocacy arm. 

At this year’s Pray Vote Stand conference on Saturday, Jauregui presented the Supreme Court plan from the main stage, with a giant screen showing the name of other religious-right leaders that have endorsed it, including FRC President Tony Perkins, former Rep. Michele Bachmann, First Liberty’s Kelly Shackelford, and relentless purveyor of false Christian nationalist history David Barton.  When it comes to the Supreme Court, it’s not good enough to get conservative justices, said Jauregui, they have to be “great.” So the Center for Judicial Renewal has spent “thousands of hours” evaluating people whose names have been floated as possible future justices.  The first criteria Jauregui uses to evaluate a possible nominee’s potential for greatness as a “constitutionalist” justice is their “biblical worldview.” 

Otherwise conservative judges who don’t meet AFA’s “worldview” are put on Jauregui’s “red list” of unacceptables. Jauregui suggested that he is publicizing AFA’s “red list” to try to keep Donald Trump from including any of the four judges on the list of potential Supreme Court nominees Trump has said he will release before the election.  Among the things that have landed conservative judges on that list are using a transgender person’s preferred pronouns. The dossier on Judge Neomi Rao characterizes her “faith and worldview” as problematic, noting that she was “raised in an immigrant family of Zoroastrian tradition and converted to Judaism when she got married.”

[...] To be clear, this is not just a demand for only conservative Christian justices. It goes even further. “Worldview” is a hot topic on the religious right, and was the focus of its own breakout at Pray Vote Stand. The Family Research Council’s Center for Biblical Worldview, which employs evangelical pollster George Barna, makes it clear that a tiny fraction of Christians—even a small minority of church-going evangelicals—meet their exacting standards for having a “biblical worldview.”

[...] In June, AFA Action asked supporters for money to expand the project to include lower federal court judges, but at Pray Vote Stand, Jauregui kept the focus on the Supreme Court. Jauregui noted that Justices Clarence Thomas and Samuel Alito are the oldest sitting justices, which he said makes his team’s work even more important. “God’s done work at the court, and it’s not time to lose that ground.”  AFA’s list of acceptable potential justices includes three right-wing appeals court judges, along with Kristen Waggoner, president of the religious-right legal giant Alliance Defending Freedom, and Mark Martin, former dean of the law school at Pat Robertson’s Regent University and now dean of the law school at High Point University. Right Wing Watch has previously noted that one of those AFA-approved Judges, Fifth Circuit MAGA Judge James Ho, “has become notorious as a virtual parody of a right-wing activist, whose extreme opinions read like far-right ideological diatribes.”

Christian Nationalists seek to impose a biblical worldview test on future judicial nominees for the highest court in the land by imposing a very narrow definition for acceptable court nominees by their standards.

[ventingfanfics]

OMG I LOVED YOUR PLAYER SHURI X READER FIC THANK YOU FOR WRITING IT!! would you make a part 2 please? maybe some fluff?? maybe the reader is shy cause she has never been in a relationship before ?

Thank you bby, love the request, hope you enjoy!

Tag list: @shinsousliya @tchhairbandhere

First part

Don't Wanna be a Player No More Part 2

Shuri waited until you were out of ear shot and completely out of the cafe. She leaned forward, eyeing Riri who sat across from her. “Aye, whatever you have Y/N doing today, cancel it. I’m taking her somewhere.”

“Well, alright then, boss.” Riri and M’Baku exchanged playful intrigued expressions. 

“Missing work for a date? That’s new,” M’Baku said before dipping his carrot into the container of ranch. Riri gave a long high-pitch hum in agreement. 

Shuri waved a hand dismissively. “It won’t matter. Y/N is always ahead of the game.”

“That she is.” Riri was in the middle of chopping her steak. “Don’t be distracting my girl.”

“Your girl?” 

Riri addressed an amused M’Baku. “You see her? Getting territorial already. I said what I said.”

“Oh, please, Y/N has herself together,” Shuri said, albeit trying not to smile. This was a habit whenever you were mentioned. She wasn’t very good at hiding it. “When others are trying to court someone it’s respected and considered  romantic, but when I do it it’s a distraction. How is that fair?”

M’Baku shook his head, partly amazed. “Wow. When the player gets whipped—hey!” His gaze turned into a glare when Shuri snatched a carrot from his plate. 

As you returned to the cafe, you found Shuri and M’Baku getting into it while Riri was enjoying her lunch unbothered. You noticed she had changed her seat and you couldn’t blame her because you wouldn’t want commotion—whether it was playful or not—to surround you as you were eating.

“Put me down, old man!” Shuri said as M’Baku had her over his shoulder. 

“Why is she acting like she’s not Black Panther?” Riri asked herself. Your laughter pulled her attention and she smiled. “Hey Y/N, you’re back.” 

M’Baku put down Shuri and seated himself again. “Don’t mind us, Y/N.”

Shuri seemed a little embarrassed. She was blushing and barely looking at you, which was new because her eyes normally stayed on you. “How—how did your call with Nakia go?” 

“Good, she just wanted to touch base about the project. Oh, and she’s looking to send over another referral that she wants me to train.”

“Look at you!” Riri called proudly. 

You grinned. “Thanks, love.” 

Suddenly you felt yourself being pulled into Shuri’s arms as she hugged you close. “You’ve been beasting since you’ve been here. We’re lucky to have you.”

You could have melted in her embrace and her words were like a caress. “Awww, Shuri. Well, when you have a supportive team, it helps.”

Shuri laughed some, piquing your curiosity.  She moved some of hair from her eyes, your own gaze tracking the movement. “I just think it’s adorable how you can’t take compliments without giving them back.” 

You giggled lightly, understanding her observation. It was also appealing that she was paying attention to you even when you couldn’t see it. “I mean, if the shoe fits.”

“They’re cute,” Riri glanced at M’Baku with a pout.

“Agreed.”

“We would be cute together. Don’t you agree?” said Shuri, her smile widening as she noticed the warmth show in your features. She glanced at her kimoyo beads, checking them before she lightly touched your arm. “Lunch is technically over, but I want to show you something.” 

It was a no brainer to accept this invitation.

“Does Riri know?” You looked at the genius. 

Shuri chuckled. “Yes, she does. I spoke with her.”

You smiled. “Okay. Lead the way, my queen.”

~

Garden paradise seemed to accurately describe the location you now inhabited. The skies were a beautiful purple mixed with blues and surrounded by ethereal greenery. It looked too good to be real, like these kinds of things only existed in paintings.

“Wow. This is otherworldly….” You spoke your mind. 

Shuri smiled. “Yeah, a part from its beauty, it’s a good place to come and re-ground myself.”

You stared at her, taking in this information. Your thought drifting towards Wakanda’s very own, the late T’Challa. Like many, you had mourned his passing, but you couldn’t begin to imagine how it had impacted—and still impacted his loved ones. And then on top of it, Queen Ramonda had transitioned.

“By the way, I’m so sorry…for your losses…” You said carefully. Until now you hadn’t been able to give your condolences directly. It felt like you’d be remiss to not do so when you had the chance. 

Her smile was small and she inhaled and exhaled. “I appreciate it, Y/N.”

You waited to see if she’d add anything more. Either way, you already planned to tell her your next statement. “If you ever want to talk, vent, or anything, I’m here.” 

She had an unreadable expression on her face now but the warmth in her eyes was unmissable. Truthfully, she sensed this about you. You seemed like the type she could come to about anything. Thinking this made her smile to herself.  “I do want to talk, while you’re here. Tell me about your family.”  She tapped your hip and started walking. 

You spent three hours just talking, further getting to know each other. Shuri even told you about the heart-shaped herb. 

~~

The next morning before you left for work, you received a delivery. Whatever it was must have been clothing because of how it was secured in thick coverage. You attempted to take it but was unprepared for its weight. 

“No worries, miss, we are bringing it in,” The delivery man said with a kind smile. His co-worker brought in the rolling hanger and then the outfit was hung up on it. 

“Who is this from?” You asked.

“The Queen.”

You wished each other a good rest of the day and then you unveiled the unexpected gift. Your lips fell ajar at what was revealed to you. A gorgeous evening gown. There was a note attached. 

Neatly written it read:

Entle Y/N,

I hope you will join me for one of my network’s business launch. 

Yours,

Shuri 

P.S: Use the card.

Card? What card? Upon looking around you noticed it on the bottom of the clothing rack. Your eyes enlarged at the very generous amount (imagine.)

Realizing you were going to be late for work, you hurried out the door, giving Shuri a call.

“Shuri!” You said when she answered.

“Yes, my love!” She matched your tone. 

“You sent me that dress and gift card?”

“I sure did. How’d I do?”

“The dress…Bast, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen! I’ve never owned anything like it before.”

“Well, it is yours to keep. Especially made for you.”

“So you did design this?”

She hummed in the affirmative. “Now, I didn’t know what kind of jewelry you prefer, so I’m leaving that up to you.”

“Shuri, this is so kind. I will be sure to repay—“

“I’m sorry, what? The line’s breaking up…”

“Ha-ha, very funny. Doesn’t matter what you say, I am repaying you.”

“Nonsense. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“But Shuri—“

“But, nothing. Seeing you wear it is payment enough."

~

Your shopping experience was going well what with excellent customer service, but like some things in life, it took a turn. As your time lengthened at the stores, you noticed some females staring at you. Some wore blank or curious expressions while others seemed hostile. You could only guess that it was related to Shuri. 

People were beginning to talk, noticing that the Queen held you in high regard. Naturally, this would come with some tension. You’d seen as much from the times you’d gone to the club with Shuri and how some of the women had reacted to you. 

As long as they didn’t try you, all would be okay. 

You went to another merchant and cleared your head, taking an interest in some of the pieces. They had an even better selection. But this time, you decided to find something for Shuri. You took comfort in that, wanting to do something nice for her. But then you got distracted by a not so-whispered conversation. 

“Is that her?”

“Yeah, that’s her…”

“She’s cute…”

“Yeah, she alright.”

Then there was a male voice, “She’s pretty. Just gives off innocence.”

“That’s what I’m saying! The queen needs someone who can handle her.”

The earrings you’d been looking at fell to the floor. The merchant went to pick it up as you had turned around to look a small group of friends who already had their eyes glue to you.

You raised an eyebrow at the two girls and one guy. “Can I help you?”

One of the girls was visibly amused.  “Are you dating the Queen?”

“Who wants to know?”

“So, that’s a yes.”

“Can you call her?” The guy asked with a dopey smile. 

“Maybe if you show some respect, I will.” You held eye contact just a little longer before facing forward again. 

“Here you go miss, I gave you new pair,” said the merchant. 

~

For the first time, you weren’t jazzed up to see Shuri. Even when you’d been avoiding her those weeks, you’d still liked being able to see and hear her. However, solitude was what you were seeking at this time.

But you wouldn’t turn her away, especially not after the gift she’d given you. 

“My favorite girl.” Her face was brightened when she saw you. You almost felt better from her greeting and hug.

You offered her the dinner you’d made, which she gladly accepted. You smiled softly, watching her eat in your kitchen nook. If she hated your cooking, she was a good actress because she was chowing down merrily.

“Are you just gonna stare at me or talk to me?” She teased. 

Your shoulders shook in humor. “I’m in a staring mood right now.” 

“I see.” She wiped her mouth with the cloth you’d provided her. “Speaking of staring, have you tried on the dress yet?” You could see the excitement in her eyes.

“No, but even if I had, something tells me you would want me to do it again.”

You could tell she was a little taken aback but she chuckled. “That is right.” She licked her lips. “Did you get the jewelry?”

Your smile faded and you quietly nodded. 

She tilted her head a bit, eyeing you curiously. “Okay. How did that go?”

You furrowed your eyebrows wondering if she knew. It wouldn’t surprise you. 

“I did get the jewelry, which, by the way, thank you.”

Now, Shuri definitely knew something was off. It was all in your body language and tone. She caged you in by where you leaned against the counter. You looked into her gentle yet probing eyes. 

“Usana…” She frowned in concern.

You sighed softly and traced her hand tat. “It was good, until some people started noticing me. I guess some people know we’re seeing each other.” You intertwined your hands with hers, hoping to calm her as you felt the stirrings of a storm.

“How foolish of me, I should have protection for you. Don’t worry, next time and every time after that, you will. Did someone bother you?” 

“No,” You shook your head, immediately wanting to dispel such a notion. Shuri’s eyes were becoming wild now. “Nope, nothing of the sort. Just some cattiness.”

“Cattiness?”

You smiled lightly. “Yeah, you know. It’s to be expected.” She waited for you to expound. “Just some immature comments about whether or not I’m cute and me not being able to handle you.” You chewed on your inner cheek, hating that your tone was becoming watery. 

Shuri released your hands, backing up. “What? Where was this?”

“One of the stores—“

“Which store?”

“I don’t even remember, but the store is not the issue, it was the patrons.” You chuckled. “And get this, this is the funny part. One of them had the nerve to ask if I could call you.”

Shuri rolled her eyes. “Believe me, if I spoke to them, I wouldn’t be kind.”

“It’s fine, though. No one tried to hurt me.”

“Doesn’t matter. You did not deserve any of that.” She sighed, pulling at her short curls a little. “I knew something was wrong.”

You looked at her inquisitively. “Hm?” 

“I just felt something wasn’t right, but I dismissed it.” She tensed her jaw, visibly going through a self-loathing. “This will NOT happen again. I can assure you.” 

You wrapped your arms around her waist, swaying her. “Like I said, I know there’s gonna be haters…I just hope you don’t feel the way they do.” You could feel Shuri releasing you again, a frown etched on her features. “Sssh, let me finish. They mentioned that I seem innocent and that you need someone who can handle—“

“That is the dumbest shit I’ve heard.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “But, what if they are right? I don’t have a lot of experience in certain departments…maybe you would rather someone who knows what to do—“

“Y/N!” she interjected firmly. “Stop the madness. I don’t care if you’ve never been kissed, everything we do together is a first for the both of us—it doesn’t matter who or what was before. This is about the memories we create together. Do you hear me?”

Between her words, conviction, passion, and frustration on your behalf, your heart fluttered and so did your sex. “You’re right.”

“People will talk reckless when they are jealous. Fuck them.”

There were a few times you would have liked to have kissed Shuri. Right now, that desire was at an all-time high.

“I’m gonna try on the dress,” You said, tearing your eyes away from her mouth. “And you can help me choose the jewelry. I also got some stuff for you.” 

You turned to leave the kitchen first but were smoothly stopped. Pulling you to her and holding your lower back, Shuri planted a kiss on you that was full of life and love. 

[beardedmrbean]

WASHINGTON (AP) — In a busy term that could set standards for free speech in the digital age, the Supreme Court on Monday is taking up a dispute between Republican-led states and the Biden administration over how far the federal government can go to combat controversial social media posts on topics including COVID-19 and election security.

The justices are hearing arguments in a lawsuit filed by Louisiana, Missouri and other parties accusing officials in the Democratic administration of leaning on the social media platforms to unconstitutionally squelch conservative points of view. Lower courts have sided with the states, but the Supreme Court blocked those rulings while it considers the issue.

The high court is in the midst of a term heavy with social media issues. On Friday, the court laid out standards for when public officials can block their social media followers. Less than a month ago, the court heard arguments over Republican-passed laws in Florida and Texas that prohibit large social media companies from taking down posts because of the views they express.

The cases over state laws and the one being argued Monday are variations on the same theme, complaints that the platforms are censoring conservative viewpoints.

The states argue that White House communications staffers, the surgeon general, the FBI and the U.S. cybersecurity agency are among those who coerced changes in online content on Facebook, X (formerly Twitter) and other media platforms.

“It’s a very, very threatening thing when the federal government uses the power and authority of the government to block people from exercising their freedom of speech,” Louisiana Attorney General Liz Murrill said in a video her office posted online.

The administration responds that none of the actions the states complain about come close to problematic coercion. The states “still have not identified any instance in which any government official sought to coerce a platform’s editorial decisions with a threat of adverse government action,” wrote Solicitor General Elizabeth Prelogar, the administration's top Supreme Court lawyer. Prelogar wrote that states also can't “point to any evidence that the government ever imposed any sanction when the platforms declined to moderate content the government had flagged — as routinely occurred.”

The companies themselves are not involved in the case.

Free speech advocates say the court should use the case to draw an appropriate line between the government's acceptable use of the bully pulpit and coercive threats to free speech.

"The government has no authority to threaten platforms into censoring protected speech, but it must have the ability to participate in public discourse so that it can effectively govern and inform the public of its views,” Alex Abdo, litigation director of the Knight First Amendment Institute at Columbia University, said in a statement.

A panel of three judges on the New Orleans-based 5th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals had ruled earlier that the Biden administration had probably brought unconstitutional pressure on the media platforms. The appellate panel said officials cannot attempt to “coerce or significantly encourage” changes in online content. The panel had previously narrowed a more sweeping order from a federal judge, who wanted to include even more government officials and prohibit mere encouragement of content changes.

A divided Supreme Court put the 5th Circuit ruling on hold in October, when it agreed to take up the case.

Justices Samuel Alito, Neil Gorsuch and Clarence Thomas would have rejected the emergency appeal from the Biden administration.

Alito wrote in dissent in October: “At this time in the history of our country, what the Court has done, I fear, will be seen by some as giving the Government a green light to use heavy-handed tactics to skew the presentation of views on the medium that increasingly dominates the dissemination of news. That is most unfortunate."

A decision in Murthy v. Missouri, 23-411, is expected by early summer.

[nikethestatue]

Hi , I saw your previous post and I'm wondering if you exactly tell us why Gwyn and Azriel don't work as a ship?

I think it's an extremely broad question, with many possible answers.

Personally, for me, and it's been true from day one, from when I first heard of this thing called Gwynriel, is the ethics of it.

As I said in my previous answer, I don't condone the thought of someone like Azriel, a trusted, much older, very experienced, very suave member of Rhys's Court and Inner Circle, and Cassian's personal invitee and guarantee, getting inside a sanctuary which was created specifically for traumatized, often raped and severely abused women--created by Rhys and Mor, kind of in response to Mor's own trauma--a place which Cassian himself said Azriel's mother might have benefited from, having been essentially enslaved and raped and separated from her child, a place where Rhys spent time himself after being sexually assaulted for 50 years, and where Nesta worked (purposefully sent there, so she could feel safe and be allowed time to heal), and going after a Priestess who was placed there because of her own severe emotional and sexual trauma (not to mention the trauma that he himself witnessed).

He was TRUSTED to be there. To care for these women in a specific way, by teaching them how to fight back. He was trusted by his High Lord, by Cassian, by Clotho, even by Nesta. He is trusted to be always aware of these women's feelings and emotional well-being and what they'd gone through, to be cautious with unnecessary touch, with how he addresses them 1:1, even in front of witnesses.

Honestly, it's unthinkable to me that this man would try to get with a resident of the Library. Because he what? taught her some moves?

And btw, this has nothing to do with Gwyn herself. Her readiness, her lack of readiness, interest or disinterest play no role in this.

The responsibility here lies with Azriel.

The burden is on Azriel.

It might be okay in 500 years. But right now, it's not acceptable in any conceivable way. That it could EVER be okay for him to insert himself in any romantic or sexual way into this situation, with one of the priestesses.

We know from ACOSF that the priestesses that he trained directly definitely found him quite appealing, and mooned over him and sighed when he passed. But NO ONE here would ever say that it's okay for him to go after Deirdre or Ananke or Ilana just because they batted their lashes at him. Something, btw, that Gwyn never even did herself. If he suddenly started to put the moved on any of them, we'd all collectively shudder and be like, WTF?

Gwyn is in exactly the same situation.

It's unethical and inappropriate in every possible way. It just is.

[julietasgf]

I'm pretty much restless and started to write something on the swap au I mentioned here, where lucy gray lives in the capitol and sejanus is a tribute. I intend to post it in three-chapters, but because of the holidays I highly doubt I'll be able to post it soon (also I love writing long stuff and there's a high chance this first chapter will have more than 10k words ☠️), so I wanted to post a part of what I already wrote below if anyone is interested :)

When Coriolanus Snow entered the ceremony hall and saw the Covey on stage, his genuine and profound desire was to stick a knife in his own neck.

Coryo had lived in the Capital his entire life. He was, in his purest essence, in his purest self, Capital. But apparently, he didn't know the people of the city as well as he thought, considering he still didn't understand the appeal they saw in the Covey. A group of country folks who had the pathetic luck of being in the vicinity of the Capital at the end of the Rebellion, and for some unknown reason, the president saw something special in their music and country attire, allowing them to stay in the city. And people loved their music. And, worst of all, people loved Lucy Gray.

Corny, was the first thing that crossed his mind when he saw the girl on stage, wearing those ridiculous and colorful clothes that children liked precisely because they resembled clown costumes.

"Are you having fun, Capitol?" she finished a song and exclaimed into the microphone, receiving applause and cheers in response. "Because this is just the beginning of the party! Tonight promises, huh!"

Liar girl. Deceptive girl.

Coriolanus knew her opinions about the Reaping well, no matter how much she tried to disguise it with those smiles and those colorful dresses.

"They're great, aren't they?"

Beside him, Clemensia had appeared with a slight smile on her face. She loved the Covey. She and all her classmates. All without any kind of taste, of course. Granted, after the war, musicians and performers in general became scarce; when that strange group without a fixed place was around, playing cellos, guitars, and harmonicas, everyone was amazed, like someone eating a mediocre meal after a long time without eating. Coriolanus knew how that felt, but he was never amazed at eating cabbage soup after hours without eating.

It made sense that he was the only one who didn't fall for the Covey's charm.

Still, he had appearances to maintain.

"I'm always impressed by how good they are," Coriolanus said, sipping his fancy drink, one hand in his pants pocket. "How can musicians like them come from the Districts?"

"What can we do if most of our best musicians died with the bombs?" Clemensia shrugged. "And in their defense, they technically aren't from a District. They traveled all over the country, and, well, if they're in the Capital, it's because they also spent time in the Capital, right?"

Coriolanus had heard this same excuse thousands of times in various forms, about how the Covey wasn't really from a District, about how they were and always had been Capital, and it annoyed him. How can a lie told so many times convince so many people, right? Or maybe the citizens of the Capital only accepted this argument because they wanted to lessen the guilt of enjoying District music, of District rats. When the first news of the Covey's success spread through the city, Coryo remembered what his grandmother had said.

"We wouldn't have to listen to District music if they hadn't killed our musicians with those bombs."

War really did things to people, including making them forget common sense, all for a bit of questionable entertainment.

"Coriolanus Snow!"

Coryo hadn't noticed that the Covey had already finished their performance, and he also hadn't noticed that Lucy Gray had traversed a crowd of people asking for a photo just to get to him. Up close, her makeup looked even more like that of a clown; if it were other times, or other occasions, he would say she looked like a court jester. But it wasn't other times or occasions. Lucy Gray, probably the Capitol's favorite subcelebrity, stood in front of him, hands on her waist, a smile on her made-up face, and there was a whole group around the two paying attention to every word she said. That's why he smiled too.

"Lucy Gray Baird," he spoke with the same charming voice he had trained in front of the mirror for years. "Beautiful show, as always."

"Oh, darling, you know it's not just me," she laughed, shaking her head a bit; there were colorful clips in her long, brown, wavy hair. "I may have the face, but the Covey does it all." She now turned to the crowd, a huge smile on her face. "A round of applause for the Covey, everyone!"

The group of people around her and Coryo applauded while the Covey was still in the process of leaving the stage. Coriolanus, very reluctantly, applauded. He had to admit, despite everything, that Lucy Gray must be one of the only people besides himself who knew how to play that game better than anyone else. Those who looked at her with her embroidered clothes and rainbow skirt would never guess what was going on inside that head. But Coriolanus knew. Just as she knew that his stomach was growling.

They had this implicit agreement, you see. That one wouldn't expose the other. They met at events, at parties, smiled. The venomous little snake always made sure to greet him. They exchanged a few words and didn't speak again.

They understood each other, in a way.

If Lucy Gray weren't a District trash, maybe he would consider her in another life.

She was a performer. Just like him. In different ways.

"This year, I heard that the top students from the Academy are going to be mentors... whatever mentoring a tribute means," she picked up one of the glasses that passed on trays, sipping the liquid. "I hope you figure it out quickly, though. It was a good incentive for the Academy to send the mentor of the winner straight to college. You'll make good use of that, won't you?"

Coriolanus gritted his teeth. It was taking too long.

"Of course, I will, Lucy Gray," he forced a yellow smile. "Who wouldn't, right? Not to mention the renown."

"What renown, huh?" she murmured quietly, almost just to herself, while sipping from the glass. "Congratulations on mentoring a teenager to kill twenty-three others, champion." Another commotion was arising in the hall; Lucy Gray smiled, placing the glass on another passing tray, and patted Coriolanus on the arm. "It's time, isn't it? Go there, Coriolanus. Good luck, dear."

She smiled at him, the same smile she gave him at one of her shows in the Capitol, the same smile when they met at these parties, the same smile when she caught him storing food in his pockets at a party. Coryo smiled back.

They weren't so different, after all.

"Oh," she spoke in a whisper before leaving for good, "there are snacks on the buffet on the left side of the hall. If your pockets are still empty, maybe you'll make good use of it. I'm sure your grandma will like it."

Coriolanus wanted to strangle her.

"Thanks for the heads-up, Lucy Gray," he replied in the same tone. "You should take some to your friends from District 12 when your tour passes by there."

And he knew she felt the same way about him.

***

The cargo train arrived in the Capital, and Coriolanus was the only one among the Academy students waiting for it.

To be honest, he didn't judge his classmates for not going to meet their tributes, partly because, as some of them stepped out of the train cars, the first thing Coriolanus thought was how some of them reeked of poverty. Coriolanus would never admit it out loud, but he was accustomed to that horrible smell, reminiscent of old potatoes and cabbage nearing expiration. Many of his peers, especially those wealthy enough to afford perfume, would faint at the sight of a tribute with a face covered in soot. Coriolanus was certain that Arachne Crane would collapse if she saw the bat that emerged from some of the cars when they were opened.

Coryo wasn't particularly interested in all that, it should be noted. He didn't care about those other tributes at all. He was only there to see his own, and his tribute was the only one that mattered. He even managed to get one last white rose, a small and fragile thing.

Then, he finally found the carriage he had been looking for.

And he saw his tribute descending from it, extending a hand to help the girl from District 2 get down too. Sejanus Plinth, Coryo repeated to himself the name that took a while to memorize; he wasn't in the habit of memorizing names, not when he believed that most people who carried them were irrelevant. Sejanus Plinth. Don't forget.

"Sejanus Plinth, isn't it?" Coryo spoke aloud before he forgot altogether, and he couldn't forget, he couldn't make a bad impression; the boy looked at him with wide eyes, as if he had been startled. "Nice to meet you."

The boy (Sejanus) watched him for a moment without saying anything, furrowing his brow, exchanging glances with the girl next to him. Both were dressed in simple and similar clothes; Coriolanus imagined that there must be some dress code in District 2 that made them dress similarly. The same brown vest, the same beige button-up shirt, differing only in a few discreet details. His eyes were a little swollen. Maybe he had cried on the train too.

"And should I know you?" Sejanus asked uncertainly, a nervous tone.

"Well, congratulations," Coryo extended a friendly hand to shake, reminding himself to wash it as soon as he got to a bathroom. "You are the first of the tributes to meet your mentor."

Sejanus didn't shake his hand. Just looked at him the same way.

"Mentor?" the girl next to Sejanus asked, opening her mouth for the first time to say something. "What do you mean?"

Coriolanus wasn't in the mood to answer questions, especially from people from Districts. He was only there to talk to his tribute and try to make a good impression, but making a good impression also involved being polite in front of Sejanus, and being polite in front of Sejanus meant answering tiresome and irritating questions like this.

"This year, the games will have a little novelty," he said with a wink, his charm already perfected. "Each tribute will have a mentor. Someone to help them survive in the Arena. Academy students, of course."

"And where are the others?" she asked, turning her head, looking for others in the same glaring red uniform as Coriolanus.

"Only I had the inspiration to come and meet my tribute, dear," Coriolanus forced a smile; he was already fed up, so he turned again to look directly at Sejanus this time. "Don't worry, you will soon meet your mentor. But I came to welcome my tribute to the Capital. Do you like roses?"

Coriolanus handed the rose to Sejanus, who did not accept it, just continued to stare at him with the same furrowed brow.

"Mentor, huh?" he murmured, crossing his arms. "Did you really think it was a good idea to bring a rose for someone who is about to die?"

Sabyn seemed to hold back a laugh. On another occasion, the color might have drained from Coryo's face; but he had already prepared for this kind of interaction. Coriolanus just widened his most charming smile.

"I understand it might be a little offensive, but roses were my mother's favorite flowers. She loved them, so I thought my tribute might like something that was so dear to the most important person in my life."

"Your... mother?"

"A sweet woman. Probably the person who loved me most in my life. Sometimes I wonder what her reaction would be if it were me in your place, so I'll try to protect you at all costs, just as she would want them to do with me."

Sejanus's gaze softened, and he seemed to melt.

This was much easier than Coryo expected.

"That's... kind of you."

"There are still many kindnesses to come," why the hell hadn't this kid accepted the damn rose yet? "My name is Coriolanus Snow, by the way."

"Well, Coriolanus Snow," the boy had his hands in his pockets, and Coryo began to think that maybe it had been a waste of time to come there in the first place. "Thank you for coming to greet me," he smiled, and it was such a genuinely sad smile, "but I'll spare your time and effort. I don't have many intentions of coming out alive from the Arena."

Perhaps that was the first time in ages that Coriolanus lost his composure. The air escaped from his lungs, his brow furrowed, and he lowered the outstretched hand toward Sejanus.

"You're not going to die, Sejanus," Coryo said, forcing a smile, a nervous laugh escaping from his mouth. "You're from District 2. In the last two years, it was... a tribute from District 2 who won, and I'll be here to guide you, not to mention that..."

"Coriolanus Snow," the boy spoke much more firmly this time. "I don't want to come out alive from there. I want to die."

Of course. Of course, nothing would be perfect for Coriolanus. It never was. If any deity existed or if his father took care of him from hell or if luck could really change sides, all these things were against him. Yes, Coriolanus was fortunate enough to be drawn with a boy from District 2. A strong, well-fed boy, who in other circumstances would be the best candidate to win the games that year. Yes, his colleagues congratulated him, patting him on the back and applauding. Yes, Coriolanus was the mentor with the best chances of winning that year.

But, of course, his tribute was fucking suicidal.

Coriolanus wanted to kill that boy himself at that moment. But the boy couldn't die. Not when he was his best ticket straight to university.

Coryo didn't think twice when he entered that disgusting truck.

He was going to have to convince that boy to live.