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[adragonprinceswhore]

The Commune

Cult Leader!Aemond x Niece!Reader

Summary: A modern AU where Aemond, power-hungry and high on hubris, is the leader of a commune with a peculiar affection for the Seven.

Warnings: 18+, dark themes (mind the tags!), AFAB reader, depictions of depression, manipulation, coercion, dubcon/noncon, targcest (no description of appearance), fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving), facefucking, humiliation, (noncon) spanking, semi-public sex, P in V, breeding kink

Word Count: 19k

A/N: I've wanted to edit this for a while and finally got around to it! It took all week 🫠 I definitely feel like the fic got a face-lift! Enjoy ✨

Leaving

Your heart is beating fast and hard when you wake up.

The shrill sound of your alarm clock does little to ease your tense state, abruptly ruining the quiet calm that had previously occupied your bedroom. Without fully opening your eyes, you reach for its usual spot on the nightstand and press snooze, hoping for a little more serenity before you have to get up and face yet another insufferable day at work.

How could such a dull job cause you so much stress?

Why did it make you wake up each night with a heavy swirl of dread and anxiety tightening in your chest, rendering you unable to fall back asleep?

You’ve never been this tired before, yet you’ve never found sleep harder to obtain.

With a sigh you push yourself out of the warm comfort of your bed. It is so soft and smells like home; laundry detergent and the scented candle you keep on the nightstand.

The forced separation almost makes you cry as your body shivers in your chill bedroom.

Each day as heavy to bear as the next.

You grab the robe you have hanging on the back of the bedroom door and head for the kitchen with slow, heavy steps; dragging your feet behind you.

When had life turned so monotone?

When was the last time you truly enjoyed yourself without thinking about work?

Why did you find yourself in an existential crisis before you’d even had your morning coffee?

You load the small coffee maker, pull out a carton of yoghurt and dump some into a bowl before reaching for the packet of granola standing on top of your fridge.

You grab a mug, pour some coffee into it, and shake up your oat milk before adding a splash.

Same fucking breakfast each day.

Moving to the living room, you curl into yourself on your sofa, turning on the same morning show you always watch as you sip your coffee and feel a tiny bit of relief at the comfort that the warm liquid offers as it slides down your throat.

The unnaturally cheery hosts on TV are in the middle of some segment about reusing egg cartons when your phone vibrates. You already know who it is, tapping on the screen to see “mum” and her usual morning text, asking you how you're feeling and what you have planned for the day.

It's harder to pretend like everything's fine when it's her asking. She can always tell that you're faking it; that whatever you say is just an empty, repetitive attempt at assuring her that you are fine.

You don't really mean any of it.

And she knows.

You shoot her a quick reply, trying to ease her worries but not really having the energy to fully commit,

“I’m good, going to work and meeting up with Sara after”

A small lie, though you are planning on sending a text to see if Sara's available later. Regrettably, your weekly dinners had been reduced to monthly ones, but still.

Do it for mum.

“Have you finished checking the reports I asked you to look over?”

Gwayne does not even spare you a glance as he comes up to your desk in the office, eyes glued to his phone and thumbs violently tapping the screen. He wasn’t the worst boss to have, but he certainly wasn’t nice or understanding either, promptly ignoring any signs of distress you were showing. You know you have been looking worse and worse as the stress of the job has settled in; skin going duller and bags under your eyes becoming more prominent. Yet, he stubbornly says nothing, relying on you to finish work swiftly without ever talking back or asking for some guidance.

“Yes, I just have to glance them over one last time before I forward them to you”, you answer, noticing how tedious your voice has become.

He hums, eyes still on his phone,

“And then I’ll need you to double-check that you’ve replied to any urgent emails before going home today. Would really fuck up my schedule next week if I’d have to keep track of your inbox as well”

“Yes, sure”, you reply before even taking in what Gwayne had told you,

“Wait, what do you mean? Next week?”, you question, seeing him briefly scrunch his eyebrows together before finally looking up from his phone, locking eyes with you,

“Yes, you have next week off, remember? Last chance to use up those paid days off you’ve accumulated, and the union has made it quite clear that we cannot give you a bonus instead”, he rolls his eyes at the last part.

“Week off? But I have meetings lined up next week, deadlines closing in”

Despite knowing that you probably need the break, you feel the familiar tightening in your chest as you consider all tasks you were planning on doing next week.

Gwayne, seeming to be done with the conversation, turns and walks away from your desk, eyes again locked on his phone as he replies, “Then you’ll just have to get it sorted today”

“Well that’s lovely, sweetheart!”

Rhaenyra’s voice sounds relieved when you tell her the news of your unplanned week off. You had been forced to stay at the office for two additional hours just to make sure that you finished up any urgent business, resulting in you cancelling the dinner plans you'd made with Sara and consequently spending another evening by yourself at home.

“Why don’t you get away for a bit? You might enjoy a change of scenery?”, she asks.

You were too exhausted to even think about planning and booking a trip, replying “Yeah, sure” dispassionately as you stir the pot of pasta cooking on the stove.

All you want to do is lay in bed, listen to music and try as best as you can to turn your brain off; to not think about anything.

Contently brainless.

You don't want to think about how you’d gotten your dream job, just to realise that you despise it.

You don't want to think about how every day felt like a repetition of the one before, nothing exciting ever happening.

You don't want to think about the strong suspicion you have that every fucking choice you’ve ever made has lead you to a life that you detest.

“Why don’t you go visit Helaena? I know she’s misses you”, your mothers voice pulls you away from the negative thoughts spiralling in your head,

“I think the place is about two hours by train from Oldtown, out in the country. Maybe some fresh air would do you good?”

You knew Helaena had moved out to the country about a year ago, exhausted and overstimulated from the suffocating drain of the fast-paced city that King’s Landing is. She’d sent you a letter, not a text or a call, some time ago to let you know that she was okay and she’d love it if you came by to visit her.

“Mm, I do miss her…”, you mumble into your phone, thinking of the last time you’d seen her. It was Aegon’s birthday almost one and a half years ago. She’d seemed lost and sad. Like she often did.

Like you often did, nowadays.

“Yeah, maybe that’d do me some good”, you finally agree, hearing Rhaenyra let out a sigh of relief at your words. You know she's worried you’d stay home all week, doing nothing but dwelling in sadness.

“That’s lovely, dear! I’m sure she’ll be ecstatic to see you. You know Aemond lives there too, right?"

You’d heard that Aemond had left King’s Landing shortly after finishing his PhD as well. You’d been with your mum when Alicent called her, filled to the brim with worry over her overachieving son turning down a position at Oldtown University in order to move out to the middle of nowhere, claiming that he’d be "conducting private research".

You had actually been excited for him to move to Oldtown. Having some family close by would’ve been a nice escape from the loneliness of the city.

Besides, you and Aemond had drifted apart as you both grew older, despite being thick as thieves in your childhood.

Maybe it’d be nice to see him too.

You lean your head against the train window, watching the city landscape make way for the lush greenery of the Reach in late summer.

Being trapped in the city you’d almost forgotten how beautiful it was here; a stark difference from Dragonstone, where you’d spent most of your upbringing.

It's not that you don't miss the sea. As a child, you'd loved the way the harsh, salty winds whipped at your face, leaving you wet and impossibly refreshed as you stared out towards the horizon, thinking of everything awaiting you there.

The potential of what your life could've become felt a lot more comforting than the reality of it.

You hadn't been able to call Helaena to inform her that you’d like to visit. Apparently, she didn’t have a mobile phone anymore, but after sending a text to Alicent you’d gotten a hold of her new number; a landline.

You didn’t know how she managed without a smartphone, but figured that the stress of constant notifications might have made her decide to ditch it.

Grabbing your bag from between your legs, your hand rummages through it in blind search for your pocket mirror.

You pull it out, open it and check your reflection.

Still the same tired face, with dark bags permanently residing under your eyes. You hadn’t slept well last night either, despite having some much needed rest from work.

Why was your body seemingly incapable of relaxing?

You feel around for some concealer, dotting a bit on your finger and patting it under your eye; a useless attempt at hiding the fatigue prevalent on your face.

Defeated, you lean back in your seat.

The train ride's nice. You spend the entire 2 hours and 12 minutes listening to music, watching the scenery flash by.

Thoroughly zoned out, you nearly miss the conductor announcing your station.

You hastily grab your bag and rush out of the door. The station, if you could even call it that, is small; just two tracks going opposite directions.

It's closer to a bus stop, a place where people get off and quickly make way to their final destination.

You spot Helaena immediately. She's standing on the platform in a lilac summer dress, her silver hair shining in the sunlight.

Although you can only really make out her silhouette, she seems different. As you come closer, the wide smile that she sports comes into view.

Gosh, she looks radiant!

So different from her gloomy, distant self back in King’s Landing.

“I’m so happy you’re here!”, she squeals, wrapping you in her arms.

She hugs you tightly, and you hug her back, burying your nose in her hair. It feels good to hug someone you care for.

When was the last time you did that?

“Thank you for having me”, you respond as Helaena pulls away, still holding you in her arms, eyes flickering over your face.

Her smile falters for a second before it returns and she starts talking excitedly about her new home, telling you that it’s only a 20 minute walk from the station and you could catch up on the way.

You follow her down the steps from the platform, answering a few questions about work and your life in Oldtown.

She leads you away from the small station, down a path where a few houses lay scattered sporadically.

You can hardly call this a town; far too minuscule. Still, you notice what seems to be a little supermarket, a pharmacy, a gas station and what looks like an elementary school, facing the tiny town square.

“I’ve been hoping you’d come visit ever since I sent you that letter”, Helaena gushes, taking your hand in hers as she led you down a small path going off the main road,

“I just know you’ll love our commune. Aemond thinks so too!”, she continues while squeezing your hand in hers.

“Commune?”, you ask and turn to face her.

She met your eyes and nods, face breaking out into a wide grin once again,

“Yes, Aemond’s research project! You know he specialised in philosophy when he did his PhD in Political Science, right? Well, he got really into the idea of having people live in smaller communities instead of the impersonal and detached lifestyles people pursue in modern cities”, she explains, eyes once again inspecting your face, only to land on the bags under your eyes.

You hum in response, seeing if she’ll continue.

“So, he used some of the money he had stored away in funds and created our commune; a small community where everyone knows each other and we get away from the stresses of city life. We grow our own crops, spend time outside and work together to keep the place running”, she explains, eyes gleaming with adoration,

“He said he did it for me, since he saw how bad my depression had gotten back in King’s Landing”, she adds, and you squeeze her hand affectionately. Aemond had always cared for Helaena, no one else seemed to truly understand her like he did.

“So, you feeling better now? Out here?”, you inquire, gesturing towards the green field you walk through, hand in hand.

You're not really paying attention to where you're going as Helaena guides you. Looking up, you find yourself surrounded by nature; not a building in sight.

The sun shines brightly, illuminating the beech trees towering over you, creating a roof of light green luminance.

“Yes, much better”, she replies with a smile. She seems so at peace here, encapsulating a kind of beauty that comes from within and hypnotises anyone laying eyes on her.

“And this, ehm, commune. How many people live there now?”, you ask, not knowing you’d be spending your time with a bunch of strangers.

Truth be told, you really didn’t feel up for it.

You barely have energy to hang out with Helaena and Aemond. Entertaining and getting to know new people would be especially draining.

“We’re already about 50 people. Most of them met Aemond when he was still in school”, she replies.

As if she could sense your uneasiness, her eyes search yours as she adds, “You’ll love them, I swear! Everyone’s super nice”

Together, you continue your path, walking up a small hill. As you look down, the commune comes into view.

You see small, cottage-looking houses, with large flowerbeds between them, filled with everything from herbs to vegetables.

There's a large building the middle of the field with walls much taller than the cottages. The building's made out of wood; a dark tone that contrasts against the light trees and green fields you’d passed on the way over.

Above the large entrance of the building is a large carving, resembling the seven-pointed star of the Faith.

Helaena, still excitedly chatting next to you about how lovely life is out in the country, pulls you towards the large building in quick steps,

“Aemond's dying to meet you! It’s been so long. I bet he’s in the Sept”, she explains, leading you through the tall, open door.

Your parents aren't particularly religious, which means you hadn’t spent much time in Septs and the like. Alicent’s family, however, were rather devoted; an integral part of the many faith's many fractions in Oldtown.

When you were younger, both Helaena and Aemond had spent a lot of time studying The Seven-Pointed Star. Still, the fact that they'd chosen to construct a Sept in such a small community shocks you.

Maybe they're more dedicated than you’d thought?

Entering the Sept, you recognise the back of a tall man with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and long, silvery hair, tied in a low bun.

Helaena calls his name and he turns around, finding your gaze in an instant. His lone, purple eye crinkles slightly as he smiles at you, calling out your name in greeting.

Just like Helaena, he looks radiant; pale skin glowing, dress shirt and dark slacks perfectly ironed, and not a hair out of place.

As a child he was always so moody; volatile and sensitive.

Now, he seems so calm.

Too calm.

Like he was faking it.

“Welcome to our home. I hope the trip here wasn’t too draining?”, he asks, inspecting your fatigued face.

Seven hells, did everyone think you looked like the walking dead?

“It was a lovely ride out here. I’d almost forgotten how beautiful the country is” you answer, trying your best to sound cheerier than you look.

He hums at your answer, placing a hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly. You can't make out if it's supposed to be an attempt at a greeting, or a way to comfort you.

His eye bores into yours,

“We’re so happy to finally have you here. Helaena will help you get sorted in one of our rooms and then I’ll introduce you to everyone”

His hand swiftly leaves your shoulder before he turns around, striding out of the large wooden doors of the Sept.

Reconnecting

After a few hasty greetings, you retreat to the room Helaena and Aemond have assigned to you.

You're exhausted from being bombarded with impressions, and collapse on your bed, finding uninterrupted sleep for the first time in months.

Hours later, you wake up to the sun illuminating your room, a low knocking sound by your door.

As your groggy mind slowly realises where you are, you hear Helaena call you from the outside, informing you that breakfast will be served in a few minutes.

You get up and move to the basin placed in the corner of your room, splashing some water on your face, checking your sleepy reflection.

You instantly notice that the heavy bags that had seemed to be a permanent feature under your eyes have faded slightly, and you look better and brighter than you had in a long time.

Mood elevated, you move to throw on a flowy, knee-length skirt and a linen blouse, reasoning that something loose-fitting would match the sunny, late-summer climate.

Stepping outside, the air is crisp.

The sun provides warmth as it makes contact with your skin, a welcomed relief to the slight chill still lingering.

You notice that the residents of the small community have gathered by a long, wooden table placed in the middle of a field not far away from where you stand. You quickly make your way there, spotting Helaena. Her eyes light up as she sees you approach, greeting you with a wide smile,

“We always have breakfast together”, she explains as people move around you swiftly, placing plates of bread, yoghurt, pastries, fresh fruit and vegetables on the massive table.

You spot Aemond, hands behind his back and posture straigh as he observes the people scurrying around him. He glances at you, giving you a small smile and a nod before he returns to his previously stoic state, observing the residents while they prepare for breakfast.

Helaena reappears next to you, arms wrapped around 5 glass vases filled with wildflowers. You help her place them on the table, admiring how utterly beautiful the set up looks.

The commune, as you'd heard one resident call it, has a simplistic aesthetic. Most rooms are only occupied by whatever furniture’s necessary to maximise functionality; tables, chairs and beds made out of wood, decorated with nature-toned linens.

Yet, there is a beauty to it you’d hardly seen before; an appreciation for a simple charm that's often lost in the hectic mess of cities like Oldtown or King’s Landing.

You take a seat next to Helaena, eager to devour the delicious-looking food in front of you.

Though most residents are seated by now, no one moves to touch the various plates filled to the brim with mouth-watering food.

You look over at the end of the long table and notice Aemond standing, hands still clasped behind his back. He softly clears his throat, and the cheery chatter dissolves in an instance, all eyes shifting to watch the tall, silver-haired man standing before them,

“Good morning. I hope you all slept well and feel ready for a day of prosperity”, Aemond starts, eye moving across the table to acknowledge everyone present.

Most of the residents are older than both you and Aemond. You even heard that a handful of them used to be his professors back in King’s Landing.

You're still not sure how he’d managed to get them all to move out here, but as he speaks, you notice how intensely everyone observes him, taking in every word that leaves his lips,

“Let us pray”, he orders, and each one of your tablemates bring their hands up to clasp over their empty plates before closing their eyes.

Aemond sends you a look you can’t really decipher. You assume he wants you to partake in the prayer, so you lower your head and clasp your hands together as well.

Aemond pays tribute to all seven faces of the new God before thanking all residents for attending, voice calm and steady.

As the prayers end, everyone shifts their focus to the food. You feel unsure of what to try; everything looks so good.

Helaena makes the decision for you, grabbing your plate, loading it with bread and various spreads and toppings for you to try.

“You’ll love this”, she urges as she places the plate in front of you, lilac eyes eagerly awaiting your reaction.

She's right. Everything tastes divine and you eat until you feel like your stomach is about to burst.

Meanwhile, you try to engage in some small-talk with the people sitting closest to you around the massive table.

To your right sits Jayne, a woman you’d guess to be in her early fifties, with sun-kissed skin and kind, brown eyes. She tells you about her tasks at here, mainly growing herbs and flowers.

She shoots a quick glance at a dark-haired woman sitting by Aemond further down the table, explaining that she grows and tends to various plants which are grown at the request of the woman she’s observing; Alys.

After breakfast you offer to help collect and wash up the dishes, feeling a strong need to be useful as you see all residents retreat to their respective tasks for the day.

As you circle the outside table with an already overfilled tray in your hands, you spot a tall figure appear beside you.

“Would you like to go for a walk?”

You look to the side and see Aemond standing there. He's wearing a dress shirt and dark slacks today as well, though his hair is left untied, cascading down his shoulders and reflecting the light of the sun.

He offers you a timid smile as he asks, mimicking the way he used to look when he was younger. It's a stark contrast to how he appeared during breakfast; authoritative and intimidating.

You return his smile and nod. Perhaps a walk would do you good.

He instructs one of the residents to take over your work and they do so without protest. You send them an apologetic look and mumble a "thank you" as you follow Aemond, who’s already set sight on the small path leading away from the settlement and towards the compact trees of the surrounding forest.

The two of you walk in silence, basking in the lovely scenery surrounding you. The light green trees seem to shimmer in the sun, and as you make your way into the forest, you spot a small river; surface reflecting the lush greenery of the leaves.

“How is life in Oldtown? Has my uncle been giving you a hard time?”, Aemond asks, eye looking forward as he breaks the silence.

You swallow and mentally prepare yourself before answering, not wanting to let him in on how miserable you’ve been.

“Yeah it’s been interesting. A lot of new challenges but I’m hanging in there”, you answer, and despite your attempt at sounding casual, the sadness residing within you drips through and stains your voice.

Aemond abruptly halts and turns to you, eye boring into yours as he contemplatively licks his lips.

“There's no need for that here”, he states, voice suddenly sterner than before.

“What do you mean?”

Your cheeks grow hot and your palms feel clammy as you grow embarrassed over how easily he sees through your fake cheeriness.

“You don’t need to lie to me. It’s only us here, I won’t judge you”, he replies, maintaining the intense eye contact between the two of you.

It feels like a dam bursts within you; a force so strong you're helpless to it, and your sight turns blurry.

Any attempts you’ve made to appear strong have failed and all that is left is the truth; that you'r stuck in a permanent state of misery.

Broken.

You feel your throat close up and you desperately try to swallow before answering,

“I ha-, have been feeling a bit, ehm, lost”, you admit, and as you finally utter the words, admitting to yourself and confiding in him that you feel disoriented, tears spill out of the corners of your eyes.

You try to take deep breaths to soothe yourself and regain some control over your emotions, but it's too hard.

Why can’t you pull yourself together?

Aemond regards you for a moment, allowing you time to process the sudden crash of emotions overcoming you, before he places a hand on your upper arm, gently dragging his fingers over the fabric of your blouse.

“You’re allowed to feel lost”, he looks into your eyes and there is something there; a tenderness you haven’t seen since you were both much younger.

You can’t stop the tears from flowing anymore as you weakly nod at his words, the lump in your throat leaving you unable to properly answer him. His seeing eye is so gentle as it gazes into yours,

“Many of us here felt lost, hopeless even. But the community we’ve built allowed us to reconnect with our inner selves; helped us feel happier”

He moves the hand that had been on your arm to your face, experimentally stroking your cheek. You lean into his touch by reflex, relishing in the feeling of his warm hand on your wet cheek.

“You don’t have to pretend here, not with me”

As he speaks you move closer to him, pressing your body against his and wrapping your arms around his torso, hugging him tightly, just like you did so many times in your childhood.

He understands what you need and hugs you back, holding you against his chest, softly stroking your hair. And despite the agony in your chest and the lump in your throat, you feel okay; escaping into his warm embrace to momentarily forget all your sorrows.

You stay like that for a while, bodies interlocked with each other as Aemond lets you cry. He doesn't say anything, continuously stroking your hair. It feels emancipating; crying your heart out in the arms of your uncle.

As your tears dry, you gently push yourself away from Aemond’s embrace and run the back of your hand over your cheeks in an attempt to remove some of the wetness. Aemond’s eye still looks gentle as he regards you,

“I know that life's not always what you thought it’d be, and leaving home is scary. But you’re with family now. Me and Hel are so pleased that you’re here with us”

You smile at him, saying a quiet "thank you" as he motions for you to carry on with your walk.

You continue to talk and catch up on what’s been going on in your lives since you last met.

Aemond tells you about his research project; how he believes that modern capitalism renders people mere objects utilised for profit by companies, consequently leaving them lacking agency and without a belief in higher powers, generating a generation of depressed, lost souls.

You take in everything he says. He speaks with such confidence that you feel yourself agreeing instantaneously.

In truth, you also felt like an object at work; a machine there to execute tasks, without any possibility to change your condition.

You listen to him talk so intensively you don't even realise you’re back at the residence.

What sounds like a fight in hushed voices pulls you away from your conversation with Aemond as you look up to search for where the voices are coming from.

You see one of the residents you had breakfast with, Jayne, kneel down in front of Alys, grasping at her apron and pleading to her in a quiet, desperate voice,

“I didn't mean to, please believe me!”

Shocked, you look over at Aemond who suddenly looks stern, wrinkles forming between his eyebrows. His eye's set on the scene in front of you, yet he does not intervene.

As you open your mouth to ask him what's going on, he grabs your arm and promptly leads you into the Sept, closing the door behind you.

“Helaena will meet you here, she wanted to show you her insect farm. Do not leave until she collects you”, he commands, voice stoic but intimidating, leaving no room for argument.

Before you have a chance to reply he quickly opens the door, and leaves.

You spend the afternoon with Helaena, exploring her insect farm and listening to her tell you of all the benefits the farm provides.

Afterwards, you still feel the unease from earlier vibrate within you, causing you to feel restless. In an attempt to be useful, you offer to help some of the residents as they prepare the large outdoor dining space for supper.

You chat with one of the younger people there, a man who appears to be in his early 20’s called Jon.

He tells you about how he met Aemond. As part of his PhD programme, Aemond held some lectures for first-year students, and Jon had attended his class on international conflict and crisis.

They’d started talking outside of Aemond’s lectures and found that they had much in common, especially in regards to their view of the world, and what was wrong with it. Aemond had mentioned his wish to move out of the city with his sister, and Jon was intrigued in an instance.

You continue your conversation with Jon, finding him easy to chat with. He's surprisingly funny too, joking and making you laugh, easing your anxiety. Feeling yourself relax and grow more comfortable, you decide to pry a bit, confiding in Jon,

“I wasn’t brought up with the faith, so I have to ask. Why did you decide to build a large Sept in a small settlement like this?”, you ask as you help Jon place cutlery by the plates on the table.

His relaxed and cheerful demeanour stiffens at your question. His eyes leave the silverware on the table to meet yours,

“You don’t know?”

His face appears genuinely surprised, and his eyes are wide in question. Before you get a chance to answer, a raspy voice interrupts your conversation,

“Jon! How lovely of you to entertain our guest”

The woman who you’ve learned goes by Alys appears, emerald eyes locking with yours as you turn to meet her.

“I’m Alys, it is so nice to meet you”

She stretches out a hand and gives you a practised smile. Her features looks pleasant; far from how harsh they'd appeared when Jayne had been kneeling before her.

You try to smile back at her and tell her your name, though you suspect she already knows exactly who you are. You look over at Jon who appears nervous, hands fidgeting with a fork.

“I believe Aemond wants to see you, in his office”, Alys sight does not leave Jon, eyes boring into him, but you both know she is addressing you.

You can’t come up with anything to say or do; anxious to find out what it is that Aemond wants from you and desperate to get away from the intense, silent fight between Jon and Alys taking place before your eyes.

You shoot Jon a quick apologetic glance before moving toward the Sept, leaving him with Alys.

Aemonds office is located behind the large altar in the Sept. As you approach, you feel yourself grow tenser; stiffer.

You quickly try to run your sweaty palms over your skirt before raising one hand and softly tapping your knuckles against the heavy wood.

Aemond calls for you to come in and you enter, standing awkwardly by the door.

What does he want with you?

Had you overstepped when you spoke with Jon?

Or will he let you in on what had happened between Alys and Jayne when you came back from your walk?

Something about this place and Aemond makes you unexplainably uneasy, but you're unable to pin-point what it is that reduces you to a mess of nerves.

Your eyes keep flicking up at Aemond and down at the floor. You can't maintain eye contact with him, his stare too intense.

Fiery.

“I heard you offered to help Jon prepare supper?”, he inquires. His voice is completely devoid of any emotions, making your uneasiness grow.

He had an eerie calmness to him that did little to soothe you; rather, it made you grow even more restless.

“Y-, yes, well, I only helped him with bringing out plates and such”, you rushedly explain, words pouring out of your mouth, “I'm so sorry if I overstepped or made a mistake, that wasn’t my intention”

Aemond beckons you over, pushing his chair from where it’s placed by the desk, holding out his hand. You grab it without a second thought and he begins stroking his thumb over the back of your palm, looking up at you, a sliver of sympathy evident in his dark gaze,

“Why did you assist him?”, he asks softly and you answer that you just wanted to be helpful; that it feels strange seeing everyone else work hard and not contribute.

Aemond hums and leans back in his chair, hand still holding yours.

“You shouldn’t do other peoples chores for them. Everyone here has responsibilities that they should conduct in solitude”, he explains and you nod, though you can’t understand the harm in helping someone with a menial task like setting the table for supper.

“Don’t worry, no one is upset with you”, he adds to reassure you that you haven’t wronged anyone. You feel yourself relax somewhat, letting out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

Aemond looks you over and his gaze stops at your shoulders, noticing the strain there,

“You are still so tense”, he notes and you hum.

Stress, working at a desk for over 40 hours per week and lack of sleep had left your body in a constant, rigid state.

“Come here”, he commands and tugs at your arm unexpectedly, making you stumble forward. His other hand comes up to wrap around your waist, placing you on his thigh.

He looks into your eyes and the close proximity makes you slightly uncomfortable.

“You’ve always been so nervous; anxious since we were young”, he says as the hand that had been holding yours travels down to rest on your clothed thigh. The arm he has around you midriff tightens as if he’s expecting you to move away,

“Let me help you relax”, he offers, voice soft.

With gentle fingers, he slowly traces patterns on your leg. You do not know what he means by helping you, but you trust him.

He managed to makes you feel better before.

You stay put on his lap and he takes that as permission to continue, letting his hand travel down to where your skirt ends, fingers caressing your knee.

A breath gets caught in your throat as his hand moves upwards, slinking in under the fabric of your skirt; warm palm softly touching the smooth skin of your thigh. Aemond lets out a sigh at the contact and you suddenly feel uneasy, squirming in his grip.

“Aemond, what are you doing?”, you ask, voice slightly panicked.

His arm tightens around your waist as you try to move, hand continuing its path up your skirt.

“Didn’t it feel liberating to ease the pressure within when you cried in my arms earlier?”, he inquires and you look at him puzzled.

He still appears stoic but the pupil of his eye is blown wide; enveloping his iris.

“Let me take care of you. Just relax”, he commands as his hand reaches the apex of your thighs, index finger coming up to touch your bundle of nerves over your underwear experimentally.

You gasp and try to squirm out of his hold again, but he is much stronger; body rigid as he holds you.

He moves his head down to rest in the crock of your neck, shushing your protests. His fingers continue their slow massage over your underwear, and you feel yourself grow wetter from his attention.

Both your mind and your body have frozen.

Although you know it’s wrong, you let yourself lean into the pleasure Aemond is providing you, feeling yourself drift away; mind letting go of your senses as Aemond's touch consumes you.

When his fingers travel to the edge of your underwear, sliding inside, it’s like a bucket of cold water is poured over you.

You regain consciousness, bringing your hand up to try and push his away,

“Aemond we can’t do this, don’t-”, you plea, embarrassed by the fact that you can feel the evidential stickiness of your arousal between your legs.

Aemond tuts at you and pushes his fingers to make contact with the skin of your cunt, delighted at the wetness that greets him,

“You want this", he speaks quietly into your neck, "You need this. Be a good girl for me and let it happen”

You sit in his lap stiffly and as you're about to protest once more, his fingers circle your clit, causing a startled moan to slip out of your disobliging mouth.

Aemond chuckles against your skin and presses a light kiss to your neck,

“I knew you’d like it”

His words feel taunting, and your cheeks sear with shame.

The conflicting feelings storming inside you do little to hinder the arousal you're experiencing.

As his fingers travel down to your entrance, you again feel your common sense slip away and pleasure overtaking you.

He gathers some of the wetness from your entrance and brings it back up to your clit, making you sigh in involuntary pleasure again.

He positions his hand so that the heel of his palm is right by your bundle of nerves, leaving his fingers free to tease your entrance. He stays like that for a while, teasing you while pressing his palm against your clit.

The pleasure builds inside of you at a rapid pace.

He slowly sinks two fingers inside and you cannot contain the loud moan that escapes you, grabbing his arm with both hands. You grip him tightly, but cannot bring yourself to pry his hand away like you’d tried before, the pleasure too overpowering.

He sets a steady pace, palm pushing against your clit and fingers continuously finding that spot within you that causes your thighs to shake.

Your breath grows heavy, pleasure tightening inside you rapidly, and suddenly you don't want him to stop.

You hear Aemond’s breath growing laboured against your neck as well, giving it his all as he holds you in place and pleasures you.

You bite your lip to not let more moans slip out as pleasure begins to consume you.

Why did it feel so good?

Your walls began to contract against Aemond’s fingers as your peak approaches, and distantly, you hear him encourage you to let go.

As you do, you let out a pleasured cry, soaking his fingers. Your body stiffens while pleasure shoots through you; traveling from your lower stomach to your chest and down your limbs.

Your body slumps against Aemond, who moves his face out from the crook of your neck, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispers,

“Good girl”

Assimilating

You can’t take in anything Helaena is saying.

You watch her lips move, try your hardest to take in her words, but nothing sticks. You hum and nod in reply, but haven’t got a clue to what you just agreed.

Should you tell her about what happened in Aemond’s office?

What if she tells him?

What if she tells mum?

Bile rises in the back of your throat at the thought.

What if your mum found out what her brother had done with her daughter?

What if she found out how good he’d made you feel?

That you liked it.

The only consolation to your misery is the fact that Aemond is sitting where he’d sat before, at the end of the long, beautifully decorated wooden table, looking out at everyone as if nothing was wrong. Like this was any other supper.

Maybe nothing was wrong?

Maybe you'd just imagined the entire thing?

Still, you can't bear to meet his gaze. You continue to channel all of your energy into the conversation you were having with Helaena. Or rather, that she was having with you.

“So when the queen bee dies, her workers will select a new queen from the larva and feed her this special thing called ‘royal jelly’ to make her fertile”, she cheerily says, smiling from ear to ear,

“Everyone here in our community gets to focus their attention on their chosen topic of interest, mine being insects and biology. I’ve learned so much, nature is truly fascinating”

Again, you notice how elated Helaena seems to be here. Her eyes shine as she continues to tell you about her life in the country, tending to insect farms.

It's hard to imagine that this is the same girl who’d been a shell of a person before.

As children, she had developed a tendency to pull away from others, choosing to fold into herself and push the world around her away.

Seeing her this animated and filled with life should make you happy for her.

But it feels off.

The following days go by quickly.

Sensing your need to feel useful, the members of Aemond's commune assign you daily tasks, like helping out with harvesting plants, preparing meals and cleaning up the Sept.

The building doesn’t seem to be used for ceremonies or communal prayer. Instead, the residents utilise it privately throughout the day; though you're not let in on their purpose.

Although not being too familiar with the Seven, you swear you could remember Aemond and Helaena attending services at the Sept when you were younger, not merely going there in solitude. Maybe they prayed together as well sometimes?

Another benefit of focusing on productivity was the distraction it gave you from thinking about what had occurred between you and your uncle three days prior.

Despite the initial disgust you'd felt, you had now decided that if you acted like it never happened, maybe it never did.

You’d sworn to never bring it up with Aemond, or ever tell anyone else for that matter.

He was still the Aemond you’d grown up with; the sensitive boy with a strong will, always on a mission to prove himself.

He’d always been a bit too ‘by the book’. Maybe he sincerely thought that you would enjoy it?

He might've read something about Freud’s theory on female hysteria and the power of orgasmic release, seeing the act as more of a medical procedure than a sexual encounter?

A weak theory, but still.

---

Despite helping out at every corner of the residence, you hadn’t seen Alys since leaving her with Jon.

But this morning, after Aemond had asked you to help the residents clean up the leftovers from breakfast, you spot her standing next to your uncle, talking about something in hushed voices while watching the residents tidy up.

Although you'd only spent a few days here, Aemond and Alys' position at the top of the hierarchy of the small community was evident.

They both had an air of authority about them that was hard to overlook, making the pair appear intimidating in a way that only a strict superior could.

Yet, they both choose to be soft spoken whenever they address the residents, often complimenting them on their diligent work.

Observing the duo, you notice Aemond nod towards you, which prompts Alys to approach, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder,

“I’d like for you to help me today”, she states, and although her voice is soft, as if asking a question, there seems to be no room for disagreement.

She ushers you to follow her as she makes way towards one of the almost overflowing flower beds; copious plants fighting for space.

Like every day since your arrival, the weather is practically perfect; sunny but with a comforting breeze passing through the fields. Alys reaches for two weaved baskets resting against the small cottage wall close by and hands you one before kneeling down by the flower bed. You follow her, admiring the abundance of herbs in front of you.

You’d never witnessed such a variety of plants grow so vigorously together. You’d hardly thought it to be possible. Maybe the weather and temperature conditions here were optimal? Or maybe they’d genetically modified the crops?

Alys' gentle, low voice breaks the silence,

“How has the stay here been for you so far?”

Even though you’d told yourself; decided that you’d never think about what had happened between you and Aemond in his office again, her questions forces your mind back there.

Sitting on his lap. His fingers inside you; stretching you out.

You shake your head slightly in an attempt to erase the thought.

You’re never going to think about that again.

You can’t.

“It’s been great. Everyone’s so welcoming and I’ve been able to spend a lot of time with Helaena”, you reply, focusing on the positive aspects of your visit.

It was all true; during your time here you’d felt welcomed and comforted. Cared for, even.

“That’s lovely”, Alys replies with a smile as she begins to pick basil leaves off the thin stem of the plant. “We’ve worked hard to create an environment where our residents can thrive, just like you seem to be doing”, she explains and your forehead wrinkles in contemplative confusion.

Are you thriving here?

You certainly look a lot better.

Your skin has almost started to glow. You wake up in the mornings feeling refreshed and rested.

But that could just be down to the fact that you’d found uninterrupted sleep. Plus, the appetising food served here seems healthy, consisting of ingredients the residents grew and prepared themselves.

“Well, the fresh air and delicious meals certainly help one thrive”, you reply with an unconvinced chuckle.

Alys’ eyes light up as they sweep over your face,

“You enjoy the food? I’m happy to hear that. I’ve put all of the past year's energy into curating the plants, grains and menu here”, she tells you, pride causing her to straighten up, sitting a bit taller.

“You truly have a gift, Alys. Any tips for an amateur like me?”, you inquire, relaxing a bit now that the conversation has taken a lighter turn.

She smiles at you and pulls out a small, green tin from the large pocket in the middle of the apron she’s wearing. She opens the lid and pulls out brass spoon. It’s filled with what looks like dirt, or clay, and smells similar to a compost.

Your nose wrinkles as she scoops some of the brown mush inside the tin onto her spoon, placing it by the plant's roots before firmly patting it down with the back of the utensil.

“I was doing my PhD at King’s Landing University before moving here. I was researching phytotherapy”, she explains as she scoops out another spoonful of brown mush from the tin and moves to add it to the next plant's roots.

“I was in my final year, fully consumed by my dissertation. Despite loving the topic, I was so stressed by my academic career that I seriously considered dropping everything and moving back to Harrentown. Then, I heard my professor tell me about this brilliant young man in the Political Science department”

Speaking about Aemond, her eyes almost look dreamy,

“His ideas were so radical, yet so natural, you know? He wanted to create a community where people were allowed to pursue their passions without the stressors of modern society. Where the Seven provide enough guidance”

You feel uneasiness creep up your spine. Her facial expression is almost trance-like as she talks about Aemond; as if he's a deity, ready to be worshipped.

“Well, modern society provides us with plenty of comforts as well, don’t you think?”, you counter with a strained laugh, trying to ease the mood a bit,

“What would you do if, like, one of the members got sick?”

Alys huffs a laugh as well and smiles to herself as she eyes the tin in her hand,

“We always get by”

After a quick lunch break, you continue to help Alys with various tasks around the residence; picking flowers, vegetables and herbs for her, plucking out weeds and organising seeds for future harvests.

You’d never seen seeds like the ones she showed you before; pitch-black in colour and almost supernaturally round.

When she saw your expression, she snorted a laugh and explained that they were from Yi Ti, used by herbalists for centuries.

She did not, however, answer you when you asked what they were going to be used for.

Although her presence had felt intimidating at first, you'd now grown calm around Alys. Something about her was almost bewitching.

Like the way her emerald eyes would lock with yours whenever you spoke, or how graciously she moved about the commune, greeting each resident in a gentle voice.

You also noticed that they never met her gaze, eyes cast down as she approached, only uttering a few polite phrases before rushing away.

Feeling more at ease spurred your confidence, and so you ask her what you’ve been aching to know for the past days,

“The other day…-", you begin with a wavering voice,

"-What happened between you and Jayne?”

You try to sound as casual as possible, but it only makes you sound strange.

Alys, who’s been picking some wildflowers from one of the fields close to the residence, doesn’t slow her pace for even the briefest of moments as she answers you, eyes still on the stem of the flower in front of her,

“Nothing for you to worry about”

She plucks the flower and gently places it in her weaved basket before moving to the next one.

“Okay”, you reply with uncertainty, “She seemed very upset though”

Alys finally looks up from the flowers she’s plucking and meets your gaze,

“Actions have consequences. I’m sure you know that. But with the justice of the father and the grace of the mother, mistakes can be forgiven”

Her face is much sterner than before. The comfort of familiarity that had blossomed between the two of you disappears in an instance, and you feel uneasy as her eyes narrow.

“Jayne has been forgiven and we will move forward. Just like how Aemond forgave you”

Alys turns around and quickly makes way towards the Sept, disappearing inside and closing the door behind her.

Forgave you for what?

For what happened in Aemond's office?

Did she know about that?

As the members of the commune prepare for supper, you go back to your room to have some time to yourself, mindlessly scrolling your phone while lying in bed.

The reception out here's not great, and now that you think about it, you hadn't seen any mobile phones during your stay, only a land-line hanging on the wall in Aemond's office.

After what happened with him, your mind had been too preoccupied to put any focus on replying to messages. You see a few from your mum and send her a quick reply to let her know that you’re doing well.

Seeing her name appear, you feel uneasy; like she knows of the secret you harbour. You feel guilty. And disgusted.

A sudden commotion outside throws you back into reality; back into the commune.

You hear raised voices, some sounding familiar, and you swiftly place your phone in your pocket before heading out.

You see Jon, eyes wide and face pale, on his knees in front of Aemond, mimicking how Jayne and Alys had looked a few days ago.

Aemond’s face is hard to read.

He looks stoic, yet his eye is furious; dark gaze glaring down at Jon.

Unlike Jayne, Jon doesn’t say anything. He raises his hands in surrender and locks eyes with Aemond; wordlessly pleading.

But for what?

By now, many of the residents have gathered around the two young men. Some look scared, others intrigued.

“Do you believe the Father to be just?”, Aemond’s soft voice asks, contrasting his utterly frightening appearance. Jon nods eagerly, eyes wide in panic.

“Then you’ll accept a punishment befitting the sin you’ve committed?”

Jon stiffens slightly, but eventually lowers his head in a slow nod. His eyes cast down to the ground; head hanging in surrender.

Aemond hums and pulls out a knife from the inside of the jacket he’s wearing over his usual white shirt and dark slacks.

It’s one you recognise. It had been gifted to Aemond on his 12th birthday by your grandfather, who’d declared that he was now a young man; a young Targaryen man, and therefore needed his own reminder of his Valyrian heritage.

Aemond flips the dagger in his hand as he regards the man before him, holding his hand out in an invitation to Jon. He wordlessly places his hand in Aemond’s, and you can now clearly see that he is shaking.

Aemond turns his hand so that he’s holding the back of it, Jon’s palm turned upwards,

“Mistakes can be forgiven, but justice must prevail”, Aemond speaks. His voice is louder than before to address the crowd gathering around him and Jon. It reminds you of a lecture.

Perhaps this is how he'd conduct classes at university?

The residents around you murmur in agreement. Aemond raises the dagger in his hand, eye cast down to make contact with Jon’s. He’s trembling out of fright and Aemond almost looks pleased at the display in front of him,

“We all need reminders of our wrongdoings, to prevent us from repeating them. Whenever you lose sight of the light, Jon, this will remind you to seek out the guidance of the Seven”, Aemond’s calm voice rings out as he suddenly presses the dagger into Jon’s palm.

He grunts in pain as the blade breaks his skin and blood flows freely from his hand. Aemond’s knuckles are white from the force in which he’s holding onto Jon’s hand, refusing to let the younger man go, staring into his eyes with a look so intimidating it demands submission.

You can’t take in the scene in front of you; can’t comprehend what’s happening.

As reality slowly comes back to you, you try to speak up, try to tell Aemond to stop, but your body doesn’t obey you; frozen in shock.

The other residents watch quietly, not making a sound as Aemond and Jon stay still, blade still penetrating Jon’s palm as his mouth winces in pain.

Your uncle finally pulls away from Jon, gesturing for Alys to move forward. She quickly pulls out some gauze from one of the pockets of her apron and kneels down next to Jon, gently wrapping it around his palm; blood pulsing out furiously.

Aemond’s stoic facade seems to falter slightly as his breathing turn laboured; jaw shut tight. He appears agitated, giving Jon and Alys one final look before stalking away towards the nearby path leading to the forest where he’d taken you for a walk a few days prior.

Your body finally obeys you as you call out his name in an urgent voice,

"Aemond!"

What the fuck had you just witness?

Aemond doesn’t turn around. He walk away in quick, angry steps, silhouette growing smaller and smaller. You throw a quick glance at Jon, whose face is even whiter than before, gauze around his palm already dark red with blood seeping through it.

You cannot bear to take in the gory sight, a thousand questions going through your head. You need answers, so you make your way towards where Aemond had disappeared.

The path into the forest grows blurrier as a thick fog settles over the commune. Still, you make your way towards where Aemond had disappeared, determined to confront him about what you’d just witnessed.

You spot a form in the white mist, sitting on a stump with his head in his hands. You approach quickly, thoughts still spinning in your head.

What was that all about?

Why did you cut Jon?

Why did he agree?

If he did agree, that is.

The fear that was etched on Jon’s face as he knelt before Aemond made you shiver. He’d seemed so scared of him; scared of what he might do to him.

Still, no one had interfered as your uncle cut the hand of one of the members of their community.

Is this the norm?

Aemond looks up as he hears your footsteps approach, face as unreadable as always.

“What the fuck was that, Aemond?!”

Your voice is shrill and accusing. Your eyes seek out his as you stop before him; expression furious and chest heaving.

“You need to call a medic or something, Jon’s bleeding heavily!”

Your cheeks feel hot as fury rolls through your body, setting it alight.

It’s amplified by the seemingly unrepentant state of the man before you.

“Don’t question how we do things here”, he warns, eye just as furious as it had been before,

“Jon knew the consequences of stepping out of line. We all do”.

“What could he have done to make you mutilate his hand?!”, you counter. You still can’t fully comprehend what had happened mere moments ago.

Had you just witnessed bodily mutilation in the name of religion?

Aemond clicks his tongue, displeased with your accusations. He tries to school his face into a calmer demeanour as he looks you over,

“Sit down and I’ll explain”, he offers, gesturing for you to take a seat on the damp grass in front of him.

Despite your initial desire to defy him, purely out of spite, your curiosity wins as you take a seat in front of the stump where he sits.

“Everyone living here has consented to our communal agreement”, he begins. You can’t help the scoff that slips out. He continues,

“One of the reasons why people feel so depressed and out of place is due to the secularisation of the modern world. They’ve lost their connection to the Seven; lost sight of the light. A belief in the divine brings us closer together. Closer to the seven faces of the God”

“You all need help if you believe that physical violence will bring you closer to the gods”

It's hard to hide the disgust in your voice. Aemond’s jaw shuts tightly and the calmness on his face looks forced,

“Help me then”, he bites back, irritation penetrating his serene facade. “Pray with me”.

He grabs both your hands suddenly and traps them in his, lowering his head as he recites a prayer you haven’t heard before.

You try to pull your hands away but his grip is iron-like as he continues to mumble the prayer under his breath.

After a while, he grows quiet, yet keeps the grip around your hands. You look up at him. He's already awaiting your gaze.

Aemond looks like he’s contemplating something; different from his usual, determined state.

“Maybe you should help me like I help you; easing the pressure from within”

His hands pull yours towards the zipper of his slacks. Your body freezes in shock for a brief moment, then quickly pull away from him in reflex.

His grip on your hands is tight. He'd anticipated you'd fight back.

He brings your hands towards his crotch, now in such a tight grasp that your fingers ache. There's a hardness there, and your mouth goes dry, a rush of anxiety go through your body,

"Aemond, no, not aga-", you begin but he cuts you off.

“Would you prefer it if I told Helaena what you let me do to you in my office?"

His voice is foreign; cold and uncaring.

This is not the Aemond you know. The one who let you cry out in his embrace.

This is the Aemond they know.

"Or should I tell my other sister?”

You feel cold all over, shivering at his words.

A threat.

He lets one of his hands leave yours and undoes his zipper. He pulls out his length; already hard and furiously red.

You’re once again consumed by feelings of unreality.

This can’t actually be happening, right?

Aemond grips one of your hands, grasping it painfully hard as he pulls it towards his cock.

He presses into the sides and bends your fingers so they circle around him; much larger hand enveloping yours as he forces you to cool his desire.

He sets a fast pace; letting you know exactly how he likes it. His other hand moves towards your mouth, stunning you yet again as he pushes two fingers into your mouth.

Before you have a chance to pull your head away, he brings his spit-covered fingers down to your hand - the one he's using to pleasure himself with - and smears your saliva over the palm before guiding it back to his length again.

As your slick hand makes contact with his burning flesh once more, he grunts and closes his eyes; brows knit together in bliss. He lets you continue the motion by yourself, hands falling to the sides of his lap.

In the middle of this surreal experience, you can’t help but look up at him, admiring his beauty.

Such an intimidating man, instilling fear in so many around him, currently at your mercy.

You almost feel a headrush at the thought; having Aemond in the palm of your hand. Literally.

The continuous friction of your hand against his flesh removes some of the stickiness, and you hear him let out something similar to a whine as your hand grows drier.

His previously intimidating features suddenly look pleading as he gazes down at you, asking you to just comply.

Just give him this.

Without much thought of the consequences, instead of licking your palm, you move your head toward his length, darting your tongue out and licking a stripe over his tip. He lets out a surprise moan, and the unexpected feeling of pride rushing through your body makes your stomach turn.

You are not enjoying this!

Still, the praise travels down and settles in your core, causing a dull throb to pound between your thighs.

Then why does it feel so good to be praised by him?

You continue to pleasure him with your hand, though Aemond’s eye has traveled down to observe your mouth. His gaze occasionally flickers down to your clothed chest, peeking at the sliver of cleavage visible from above. One of his hands grasp your chin,

“Do that again”, he commands, and the disgust you'd felt towards yourself swirls in your belly again.

You shake your head, “No”

He lets out a grunt, hand still on your jaw as he slowly and firmly brings your head closer to his manhood.

Like before, you try to push away from him, to gain some sense of control, but he is far stronger than you,

“You do as I say”, he counters, and in one swift motion, he pulls your head towards his cock with such force that you nearly knock your forehead against his stomach.

As you part your lips to protest, he pushes himself inside of your hot, wet mouth, sighing in relief.

You feel panic come over you as you try to pull away, but he quickly places both hands on your head; keeping you in place.

“Breath through your nose. Be the good girl I know you are”

He grunts and begins to buck into your mouth.

You place your hands on his thighs in another feeble attempt at escaping his assault on your mouth, but to no avail. He drags your face over his length, palms moving to grab each side of your head as his movements grow quicker. You gag slightly.

“You feel so fucking good”, he breaths out, voice drunk on lust,

“You look so fucking good with my cock in your mouth, you know that?”

It feels like he's mocking you. It sounds like he adores you.

His thumb gently brushes away some of the strands that has fallen over your face.

The want in between your legs throb. The disgust in your stomach rumbles. You know that his words of praise shouldn’t make your underwear sticky.

But they do.

Your eyes water as he continues to fuck your mouth, not giving you any rest. You try to whine against him to make him stop; to at least let you come up for air, but he takes your sounds as moans and groans, moving in your mouth faster and harsher.

Finally sensing your need for a break, he manoeuvres your head off of his cock. You pant heavily as you gulp for air; lungs hurting from the sudden, sharp inhale.

A string of saliva connects your lips to his length, and his eye seems to be even more lust-filled as he moves his hand to caress your flushed cheek.

Even in this selfish, pleasure-driven madness, he regard you with fondness.

“Aemond, please, we can’t do this”, you plea.

His gaze flickers from your spit-soaked, swollen lips to your cleavage, and then back.

He doesn’t grant you a reply as he stands up abruptly, taking advantage of your startled state and shoves his length back into your mouth.

Your hands instinctively come up to his legs to have something to hold onto as he fucks your face with even more vigour than before, swearing under his breath.

You feel disgusted at the vicious arousal pooling in your stomach, seeping out of your core.

How could something so degrading feel so sensual?

How could you feel aroused by your uncle using you like this?

Aemond moves his hands to the back of your head, pushing you so that your nose makes contact with the hairs at the bottom of his stomach. He pushes his hips against you harshly and lets out a prolonged grunt.

You gag and stifle a cough, feeling his hot liquid fill your throat, then your mouth.

He slowly pulls away, hands still gripping your head as his eyes return to their wholly intimidating appearance,

“Swallow”, he demands, placing a large palm over your mouth, blocking your nose as well.

You know that you have no choice but to oblige him and force the sticky, salty fluid down your throat with a wince.

Aemond gives your kneeling form one last once-over before letting out a hum, swiftly putting his cock back into his trousers.

Without another word, he leaves, and you're left on your knees by the stump, fog now so thick that you can hardly see the path leading back to the residence.

You wipe away the spit trailing from the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand before standing on shaky legs.

Could you pretend like this never happen either?

As if in a trance, you make your way back to the commune; head filled with thoughts, yet too exhausted to comprehend anything.

You move to the basin placed in the corner of your room, reaching for your toothbrush without looking up at your reflection in the mirror.

You brush your teeth three times, reapplying tooth paste as the lather in your mouth disappears.

You want to get the taste of him out of your mouth.

It doesn’t go away.

Realising that you’ve been carrying your phone in your pocket this whole time, you tap the screen. A few new message from your mother and brother.

You hadn't even noticed.

Without checking, you turn your phone off, tossing it in your bag as you make your way to the bed.

You feel exhausted. Disgusted. Aroused.

This can’t be real.

Forgiving

The sheets of the bed are soft against your skin.

The rays of the morning sun shine through your window, and in the glow of the day’s early hours, you feel rested; comforted by the cosiness of your bed.

As you turn to the side, snuggling into the duvet, you wonder why this comforting place ever caused you to feel unease.

And then you're reminded of last night.

The memory makes a shiver go down your spine and your body trembles; trying to shake the chill away. Still, the feeling crawling under your skin doesn’t quite disappear.

Usually, you wouldn’t be able to sleep in the anxious state you’d been in last night.

Yet, for some reason, as soon as your head touched the cool pillow, you’d fallen into uninterrupted slumber.

Though your mind was spinning from all the conflicting thoughts you were having, your body was surprisingly relaxed; well-rested and freed from tension.

You’re hungry too, you notice. The rumble in your stomach vibrates, prompted by the clatter of the residents preparing for breakfast outside.

Without much thought, you get up, get ready and head outside. The warm rays of the sun greet you and you have to squint in order to see who’s already seated at the long table.

To your surprise, you’re met by the same scene as the last couple of days.

Aemond is standing by the edge of the wooden table, speaking with Alys. Jon is carrying bread in a large basket, carefully placing a few buns in each empty bowl placed on the table. Helaena is fussing over the wildflowers adorning the table, laughing as Jayne tells her something you can’t make out.

The scenery is still perfect, despite what had occurred the day before between Aemond and Jon.

Between Aemond and you.

You walk towards the table and take your usual spot next to Helaena, offering her a strained smile as she greets you. You’d thought keeping up appearance would prove to be a true challenge, but right now you feel oddly at peace; calm even. And hungry.

As soon as Aemond finishes thanking the Seven in his morning prayer, you begin to pile food on your plate.

Everything looks mouthwatering, the freshly baked bread still warm in your hand as you tear it apart and smother it in butter. You usually weren’t the type to have an appetite when you feel anxious or stressed, but today your uneasy state only works to amplify your hunger.

As you eat, the stress that had been causing nervous waves to ebb through your body stills, and you feel more at ease. Your mind is calmer, less crowded with thoughts.

Numb.

As you finish your meal, you look up from your plate to watch the scenery surrounding you, appreciating the lush greenery of the commune that had been lost on you before.

The rays of the sun shine through the gaps between the leaves of the bright green beech trees encircling you, casting a gorgeous glow over the residence.

Gods, it's beautiful here.

You look over at Helaena, whose hair seems to shimmer in the sun. Her smile only highlights her beauty; lilac eyes kind with a glint of something playful.

“Do you want to help me with my insect farm today? I’m going to go check on the crickets now after breakfast”, she asks, tone as pleasant and upbeat as it always is here.

“Sure”, you reply, standing up to follow her.

She walks behind one of the small cottages, and an array of insect farms come into view.

They resemble little houses made of wood, and even standing a good few metres away, you can see insects crawling all over the wood.

Helaena moves between them swiftly, peeking inside to see how her favourite creatures are faring. You’d never understand her obsession with such creepy beings, but watching her now, you feel warmth in your chest. She looks so happy; so at peace.

This really is the perfect place for her.

She beckons you over to one of the miniature houses and you approach her wearily, unable to hide the aversion you felt for the bugs.

Helaena giggles as she sits down on the ground to gain better access to the farm, nodding her head in a silent instruction for you to do the same. You join her, though you sit down slightly behind where she is, hoping she can provide you some distance from the insects littering each piece of wood of the farm.

“Are you sure you have to leave by the end of the week? I’d love for you to stay here longer”, she sighs, eyes fixed on the insects in front of her. She’s brought a small pouch with her which she opens, fingers digging inside for some seeds to feed her six-legged friends.

“I have to get back to work”, you answer, already dreading the inevitable.

The constant stress, the sleepless nights, Gwayne's endless nagging.

Would you be able to sleep as well as you did out here back home?

Would sleep feel as serene?

Despite all the uneasy situations you’d found yourself in, an unfamiliar sense of calm settles on your chest, pushing down your anxiety.

Maybe things would be easier if you stayed out here? Just for a while longer?

You're pulled out of your thoughts as Helaena speaks up again, eyes still on the farm, hand now buried deep within its walls, placing seeds inside for the insects to fight over.

“I think you’d be better off here. I saw you in a dream, you know. You were smiling, wearing a beautiful crown of flowers, holding hands with Aemond”

You feel yourself stiffen.

“He told me you’d come when he invited me to live with him here”, she continues, eyes finally straying away from the crickets; meeting yours.

You want to tell her about what happened, but the words seem stuck in your throat.

Would she believe you?

Would she be disgusted with you?

“Hel, I-”, you begin, choking as tears well up in your eyes. You try to clear your throat so that the lump of sadness suffocating you goes away,

“I-, I don’t think Aemond likes me”, is all you are able to get out as unexpected tears spill out from the corners of your eyes.

You wish you could tell her more, but your body doesn’t obey you; mind feeling foggy and throat closing up.

You can't sort your thoughts, or feelings, out.

“Oh, don’t cry, love”, she says as she wipes away a fat tear sliding down your cheek,

“There's no reason to feel bad. Aemond likes you. He would never do anything to harm you. He cares for you so much”

Though her voice sounds genuine, her gaze seems to drift away as she talks about her brother.

“He’s cared for you ever since we were small, you know. Do you remember that summer when we were all together on Driftmark? Before Aemond lost his eye?”

You swallow thickly at the memory.

“You remember when you two asked me to wed you out on the beach because you wanted to stay together forever?”, she asks, voice gentle and a knowing smile playing on her lips.

The memory causes you to spill more tears. Everything was so much easier back then.

“Don’t you miss how close you two used to be?”, she asks, compassionate and caring.

Yes, you do.

“Yeah”, you let out, voice thick from sadness. “But everything changed after Aemond lost his eye. He-, he didn’t want to spend time with me anymore”

You sound so small; your own words make you feel like a child again, abandoned by your best friend.

“Well, we’re here now, together. So that we can all reconnect. We’ve missed you”

Helaena moves closer to you, throwing her arms around you and hugs you tightly.

You slump against her, burying your face in the crook of her neck. Despite all the weird interactions with Aemond during your visit, Helaena had been a constant; brightening your days and making you feel seen.

She was always so happy to see you.

She was always so genuine.

You pull away once your sobbing ceases, giving Helaena one last squeeze before mumbling a quiet “thank you”.

She smiles, wipes her thumbs over your wet cheeks and locks eyes with you,

“You’ll feel better once you’ve settled in properly”, she says with a smile.

You don’t really understand what she means but nod anyway.

Agreeing feels good.

Agreeing feels comforting.

As you make your way back to your cottage, you spot Jon by one of the flower beds, watering the abundant plants fighting for space in their wooden confinement.

He doesn’t look much different from a few days ago, but when he spots you approaching, his slouching shoulders go rigid.

“Hi”, you say, trying to keep your voice light as you draw near him.

“Hey”, he replies, smiling in a way that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Your eyes instantly move to inspect his hand.

The gauze has been changed recently, clinically white and neatly wrapped around his palm,

“How’s your hand?”, you ask, curiosity getting the best of you.

“Fine”, is all he replies as he walks towards the next flower bed, away from you.

He tilts the watering can, letting the water rains down on the flourishing plants.

“What Aemond did to you-, I-, it’s completely unacceptable”, you say as you trail after him,

“You could press charges you know”

Not that you actually think Jon would, for some unexplainable reason he had seemingly agreed to getting his hand slashed. But you wanted him to understand that this kind of behaviour was inexcusable, even if he'd consented.

Jon’s eyes darken as he turns his head from watching the droplets fall on the flowers to observe you.

“Aemond knows what’s best. No point in me going against him”, he says in resignation, eyes shifting again, looking out at the endless fields surrounding the commune.

“Aemond acted like a fucking psycho yesterday, you don’t have to excuse his behaviour”, you try to assure Jon, shifting your body to move a little closer to where he’s standing.

His eyes go wide in panic, quickly looking around to make sure no one is nearby.

“Do not say things like that”, he warns, voice barely above a whisper.

“Aemond and Alys hear everything. They have eyes and ears everywhere, especially Alys. She sees much and more”

His eyes have grown impossibly large, resembling those of an animal pestered by a predator,

“They say the Father is all-seeing; knowledgeable on all topics. Almighty. There are people here who-”, he pauses as his eyes again dart around in a stressed frenzy, making sure no one is listening in on your conversation,

“- who believe Aemond is the human embodiment of the Father”

Jon’s confession catches you off guard and you let out a snort at his utterance. His panicked eyes narrow in anger at you.

“You haven’t been here long enough to have seen what I have”, he tells you with a sneer,

“You do not understand the power that he holds”.

Though you'd initially thought Jon was someone you could become friendly with, you now find yourself backing away from him and his evident madness.

Aemond might be smart, but he is no deity.

You’re slouching in the rocking chair in the corner of your room, trying to read the book Helaena had lent you.

This is the third time you feel like giving up; mind too fuzzy to fully take in anything you're reading.

Why is it so hard to concentrate?

To distract yourself?

You’d planned on giving your mum a call when you retreated to your cottage, but couldn’t even bear to pick up your phone.

She had a way of knowing what you were thinking, without you even telling her. She knows you so well.

Too well.

She would sense that something's off.

That there's something you're not telling her.

What if she figures out what you and Aemond had done?

You’re startled by a sudden knock on your door.

Quickly standing, you rush to the door, nerves on high alert.

Aemond’s ducks his tall frame as you pull the door open, face level with yours. You feel that familiar shiver run down your spine, making your body shudder slightly.

He looks as impeccable as always; hair half up so that the silver strands stay out of his face, button-down shirt and slacks perfectly form-fitted and ironed to eliminate any trace of a wrinkle; any indication of a flaw. His eyepatch is securely placed over his damaged eye, long scar poking through the sides.

“Can we talk?”, he asks, voice low and gentle.

You’re not sure what to say, and move to the side to allow him inside. For some reason denying him feels out of the question.

You go back to the wooden rocking chair, sitting down and pulling one leg up to wrap your arms around yourself, a meek attempt at shield yourself from whatever Aemond has in mind.

He sits down on the bed, back stiff and gaze darting around the room before settling on you.

“I wanted to thank you for yesterday”, he starts, face stoic.

“Thank me?”, you reply by reflex, not entirely sure of what he’s referring to.

He can’t be referring to what happened in the forest?

“Yes. I really appreciate you helping me out”, he continues matter-of-factly. You’re stunned, mouth half-open in disbelief.

“And I wanted to apologise for leaving you after. That won’t happen again”

His eye never leave yours. He sounds so sincere it is hard not to take his gratitude and apology to heart.

Still, the memory of what you’d done causes bile to rise in the back of your throat.

Forgiving him and moving on would be so simple.

“It’s okay, Aemond, we don’t have to talk about it anymore”, you mumble, eyes looking down to pick at the sleeve of the linen blouse you’re wearing.

You’d rather just forget.

Move on.

Never speak or think about it again.

It never happened.

“Alright”

He’s silent for a moment before he speaks up again,

“I also wanted to thank you for coming out here to visit us. It’s been so nice to reconnect over these past few days”

There he is again.

The boy who’d been your best friend all those years ago.

Fierce and attentive at once; contradicting in every way. His timid smile is still the same, just as inviting to mischief as it had been when you were little.

You still can’t quite find the words to engage in conversation with him. Half of you wants to run away from his unpredictability, yet the other half wants to stay and bask in it.

“I’ve missed you”, he continues. You know he is genuine when you look up to meet his gaze.

You’ve missed him too.

“I’ve missed you too”, you confess quietly. You can’t seem to look away from his eye. It's almost hypnotising.

“Wouldn’t you like to stay here for a while longer? I can talk to Gwayne”, he offers.

“Oh that’s not necessary, I have to go back. I already know I have a full mailbox waiting for me”, you quip, trying to sound witty. Aemond’s face remains impassive.

“I always wondered why you decided to work with my uncle. Such a waste of potential”, he muses as he regards you,

“I think you could achieve much more if you chose another path in life”

His expression is serious, still his voice is gentle.

Like he’s telling you, not advising you.

Before you have a chance to reply he speaks up again,

“I’d like you to join a sermon we’re having tonight. You could benefit from some guidance”

You can’t come up with a reason to decline his invitation fast enough, and Aemond lets out a pleased hum at your silence.

“Six o’clock in the Sept”

He stands and reaches his hand towards you, squeezing it in goodbye.

He leaves your cottage and you watch him retreat to the Sept through your window.

The tall building truly holds an imposing aura; the seven pointed star sinister in its daunting simplicity.

Unsettling.

You enter the Sept right before six.

To your surprise, all residents of the commune are already seated, sitting in rows leading up to the unadorned wooden altar; carvings of the Seven decorating all sides of it.

The only one standing is Aemond, right next to the altar.

Next to him is a chair, and as you walk towards where the residents are seated, Aemond clears his throat and gestures for you to take a seat on the chair next to him, facing everyone.

“Please, join me”, he says and beckons you over.

Everyone present is watching you expectantly, leaving you no choice but to join Aemond and take a seat next to where he’s standing.

“Our guest of honour, everyone”

His voice is soft, yet you notice a hint of amusement hiding behind his stoic façade.

He says a short prayer, welcoming everyone to the sermon and expressing gratitude to all faces of the Seven.

“Today, I’d like to talk about forgiveness”, Aemond explains, and you watch as all residents observe him diligently, eyes rarely blinking.

He seems to hold such power within these seven walls.

Such authority.

“Granting someone forgiveness takes strength, given to us by the Warrior”

The residents are silent, but you see a few of them nodding along to Aemond’s words.

Helaena and Alys sit closest to where you and Aemond are, watching you attentively.

“All actions have consequences, and we must be reminded of this to prevent us from repeatedly committing wrongdoings. When I was 10, I was taught the consequences of my actions as my nephew brought a knife to my face, taking my eye”

His tone grows colder as he speaks, and you feel that all too familiar shiver run down your spine.

Only this time, you cannot shudder to make it go away. It stays at the base of your back; taking hold of you and keeping you in a state of acute uneasiness.

“Though I was consumed by hatred after being robbed of my sight, the Seven provided me with guidance, showing me the light in the darkest of times”

Aemond moves to stand in front of you, one hand coming up to pull the eyepatch that seemed to be a permanent feature on his face away.

You hadn’t seen him without it since the accident, and you have to stifle a gasp as you take in the entirety of his face.

The scar that your brother had branded him with is still red, still angry as you follow it with your eyes; starting at his forehead and ending on his cheek.

The socket where his eye had previously been is surrounded by scarred tissue; healed but still furious.

In the empty socket lays a sparkling sapphire, almost appearing alive as the light from the candles in the Sept reflects upon its surface.

The contrast of the beautiful gem nuzzled in the red, vexed scar reminds you of Aemond himself; full of rage and beauty.

“I’ll tell you the story behind this scar”

He moves to stand behind you as his hands rest on the backrest of the wooden chair,

“I was enjoying a day at the beach with my dearest childhood companion-”

His voice is borderline mocking. In your peripheral vision you see his knuckles go white from to the tight grip he has on the backrest of your chair,

“- though she adored me as well, she never defended me against the nasty remarks her brothers would throw my way”

His icy voice heats with anger,

“Having had enough of their torment, I defended myself, much like the Warrior would have. Like the Father, I demanded justice for their unbecoming behaviour. Yet, when I gained the strength to defend myself against my tormentors, the one who was supposed to be by my side abandoned me”

Although you can’t see him standing behind you, you can feel the infuriated energy radiating from his body. You desperately seek the resident's eyes for some sympathy, yet find none.

“That-, That’s not what happened Aemond”, you try to protest, but your voice comes out too weak to truly make an impact.

“Is it not? Then enlighten me. Did you not leave me to defend myself?”

One of the hands he has placed on the back of the chair moves to rest on your shoulder, squeezing it harshly.

“I didn’t-, you were fighting and I didn’t-, I was going to get an adult!”

You sound as desperate as you feel. The gazes of the residents feels burning as they regard you with disapproval.

You still remember how an innocent fight between children had escalated as soon as Aemond picked up a rock, refusing to take in your pleas to just let it go. Not knowing what to do, you’d sprinted towards the family’s summer house to get your mum or Alicent; anyone who could help you de-escalate the madness on the beach.

When you came back, Aemond was on the ground, screaming as he clutched his blood-covered face.

The memory makes you grow cold all over. That had been the worst day of your childhood; amplified by the fact that Aemond had refused to speak to you afterwards. Though your families had managed to mend the broken bond somewhat, Aemond had never looked at you the same.

“The Seven tell us that sins can be forgiven, and though I have forgiven you for this”, he gestures towards his eye, “you were never made to apologise for your transgression. I’d like to offer you forgiveness”

“Apologise to me”

He pushes at your shoulder, gesturing for you to stand in front of the onlooking residents. You heed his instruction, turning so that you're facing him.

"Kneel"

You get down on your knees, looking up at Aemond’s imposing stature. He is frightening, the clearly satisfied state of his face haunting you.

“I’m sorry”, you say meekly; low and defeated.

“Come on, you can do better than that”, he encourages.

His voice is loud and with a hint of poorly concealed amusement.

“I’m sorry”, you repeat, this time louder.

“You’re not going to address me when you’re on your knees, asking for my forgiveness?”, he asks, tilting his head.

You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling your face grow hot from the feelings rumbling in your chest; rage, sadness, betrayal.

Why is he so intent on humiliating you?

“I’m sorry, Aemond”, you bite out.

He approaches you, hand stretched out to touch your head, gently stroking your hair. He brings his hand down to cup your chin, tilting your head so that you look up at him; meeting his purple and blue gaze.

“I forgive you”, he says, and despite sincerity being evident in his voice, you cannot help but feel like this is all just a farce.

The onlooking residents stay silent, but you feel their eyes observe you like flames against your skin.

The only sound coming from the audience is from Helaena, who lets out a quiet “lovely” as her smiles at you and Aemond. You eye her in disbelief.

Does she not see how fucked up this is?

As soon as the sermon finishes you dart out the door, speedily walking the short distance to the cottage you’re staying at.

You cannot bear to stay in this madness for even a second longer.

You slam the door open, grab your belongings and stuff them down your bag with force.

The sun is setting and you know that there are no streetlights out here, only open fields and forest. You'll need to find your way back to the station alone, Helaena’s clearly as mad as the rest of them.

You peek out through the door. No one seems to be nearby and you know this is your chance to sneak away without being forced to face Aemond, Alys or Helaena.

The sun is hanging low on the horizon as you quickly move towards where you and Helaena had emerged a few days prior.

You walk briskly, the commune growing smaller as you move further away.

The forest that had mesmerised you with its beauty slowly turns terrifyingly imposing as darkness chases the comforts of daylight away.

Though you're sure you’ve been following the way you and Helena came, you soon find yourself at a crossroads in the middle of two paths, not knowing which will lead you back to the small village where the train station was.

As you briefly stop to contemplate your options, a dark figure appear on your side.

Jayne’s eyes are kind as she offers you a curt smile, reaching out to take your hand.

“Come with me”, is all she says before moving in quick steps, pulling you along the path to the right. You follow without protests; you wouldn’t know the way without guidance anyway.

You spot what looks like a street light ahead and you feel your body relax at the thought of being close to the train station, soon on the way back home.

Finally you’ll be able to leave this week behind.

As you come closer however, you start to recognise the small, wooden houses. In the middle stands a large, looming building with lights illuminating the seven pointed star in the middle.

You try to jerk your hand away from Jayne, but her hold on you is iron-like as she pulls you towards the Sept.

“Don’t worry”, she tries to reassure you.

“Soon you’ll realise that this is where you’re meant to be”

Prospering

Jayne forcefully drags you into Aemond's office, quickly exiting to lock the door from the outside. You’re still in shock, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

You inhale deeply, trying to calm yourself enough to assess the situation.

Everyone here’s deranged.

You’re outnumbered.

You could fight as hard as you like, and you’d still lose.

You start to nervously pace back and forth in front of Aemond’s large wooden desk, attempting to expel some of the nervous energy within you.

They wouldn't hurt you, right?

That’d be mad.

You think back to the true crime documentaries you used to be obsessed with. The best thing to do was play along with the madness and strike when they least expect it.

Make them believe you’re not a threat so they’ll trust you.

You just needed to keep your head cool and play along a little while longer. Then they’d take you back to the train station and you could go back home.

A sharp rap on the door pulls you away from your thoughts.

You hear someone fiddle with the lock before the door opens slightly and Alys slips through the small crack. You can hear voices outside, but they quickly fade away as Alys shuts the door promptly.

She gives you a nod, expression as calculated as it always is. She’s carrying two wine glasses in one hand and holding an opened bottle of wine in the other.

“Oh relax”, she tells you with a smile,

“Have some wine, it’ll calm your nerves”

She places the glasses on the desk, pouring you both a serving each before putting down the bottle and handing you one of the glasses.

“Here’s to a prosperous future”, she says, raising her glass and giving you a nod. You match her gesture, bringing the glass to your lips as you watch her take a sip.

The wine tastes like the ones your mum usually orders when you go out to eat; rich and with some lingering spiciness.

“Dornish red. Aemond’s favourite”, Alys states. Her delicate fingers are wrapped around the stem as she holds the glass elegantly.

She seems to do everything with grace, never faltering. Never appearing clumsy or out of place.

It's hard not to admire her.

“You know he’s only trying to help you, right?”, she asks.

"I-", you’re quiet for a while as you rack your brain for something to say that won’t upset her, “I appreciate that, but I need to get back home and-“

“Just let him help you, okay?”

Though her voice rises slightly at the end, it doesn’t feel like a question.

You know that there is no room for argument. Alys has maintained her calm appearance, yet her eyes are so expressive; the only part of her face that she can’t force into submission.

Their intensity make the hairs at the back of your neck rise, demanding you obey her.

She downs her glass before placing it on the desk, leaving you alone yet again in Aemond’s office.

It’s gotten dark now, the sole window in the room not providing much light anymore.

You continue to sip the wine in your glass as you lean against the desk next to you. The alcohol might provide you with some comfort; sooth your anxiety.

A soft knock on the door announces the presence of your next visitor.

Helaenas’ silver hair brightens up the dark room as she enters. She’s holding a flower crown in one hand, beautifully crafted with wildflowers you recognise from the bouquets always adorning the table outside.

“Hi”, she greets with a smile.

You nod back at her, still not quite sure how to appraise her.

She’s been one of the people you’ve felt closest to your entire life, yet she seems to approve of the mad things happening here.

How can she not see how humiliating Aemond’s actions during the sermon had been?

“I made this for you”, she says and hands you the flower crown.

As your hands touch, her fingers linger on yours, tips dragging over your knuckles with a feather-light touch.

“Thanks”, you reply curtly, not sure of what to say.

You want to ask Helaena for the way back to the train station.

Ask her to come back with you to Oldtown.

But she’s so different here. She overlooks so much, agrees to so much.

Always with a smile.

“Put it on”, she urges, hands moving to the flower crown to help you place it on your head. You want to protest but you’re so tired of it.

Tired of asking questions.

Tired of going against everyone.

“There”, she says with a smile as she regards you, face even brighter than before,

“You look so beautiful”

“Hel..”, you try, tongue coming out to lick your lips as you choose your words carefully.

She’s still your dear aunt; still Helaena.

“I want to go back home, Hel. We could go together, if you like?”

Despite trying to keep your voice even, you sound a little frantic.

“No you can’t leave now”, is all she replies, dismissing you. She doesn’t appear to be upset by your words though, lips still forming a warm smile.

“Hel, listen. What you’re doing here is not okay. Aemond maimed a man! And he humiliated me in front of everyone. Something’s wrong with him”

Your eyes dart all over her face and stature to assess her reaction to your words. You’re astonished by her indifference, almost like she’s not taking your words in.

She places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly as her eyes lock with yours,

“All actions have consequences. We’re all made aware of that here. Aemond only wants what’s best for us. He’s worked so hard to provide us with this. You should be thankful”

She leaves you alone in the room once more, and as she exits, you hear her secure the lock on the door from the outside.

By the time you hear someone unlock the door next, you’ve finished the glass of wine Alys gave you.

The room is now illuminated by nothing but the light of the moon shining through the window, casting a silver glow over the office.

Matching the man entering.

Aemond’s tall silhouette appears, instantly making you straighten up, dread washing over you.

He has been so volatile during your stay here, making you feel unease by the mere sight of him.

You can still hear chatter and what sounds like furniture being shuffled around outside as the door is left ajar by Aemond, who moves towards you.

He stands so close to you that his feet are touching yours.

His face is stern, looking at you down his nose. Fighting the fright within you, you meet his gaze, refusing to give him the satisfaction of backing down too easily.

Still, you know that you’ll need to play your cards right, go along with the madness here momentarily, so that they’ll eventually let you go home.

“Why did you leave?”, he asks, eyes never leaving yours.

His voice is that unique mixture of being gentle and stern, demanding you obey him and tell him the truth.

“I tried to leave because of what you did to me during the sermon. What you did to Jon!”

You’re unable to hide the fear-laced irritation you feel at his audacity.

How could he expect you to stay? Wasn’t it obvious why you left?

“I might have been selfish for needing that apology, but it was necessary. Now we can move forward together”

He moves one of the hands he’s had clasped behind his back towards you, gently placing his it in yours.

Your gaze flickers down to where he’s holding you. Your hand looks so small and delicate in his large one. His touch is warm.

You scoff at his attempt to reconcile,

“Who said I’ve forgiven you for what you did?”

“You know you owed me an apology after leaving me alone with your vicious brothers that night”, Aemond says and he shuffles even closer to you,

“Do you think that what happened during the sermon can match the pain I felt when your brother took my eye?”

“N- no, but Aemond-"

“No. You’ll never understand the pain I’ve been through. But I’ve chosen to forgive you, and now we can move forward together”

His voice is slightly strained as he lectures you. His purple eye is piercing, and though you’d wanted to match his strength, you can’t help it when your eyes look down in shame.

“However”, he speaks in a lower tone, thumb moving to stroke the back of your hand,

“I am disappointed in your attempt to leave me and Helaena here without even granting us a proper goodbye”

“You’ll prosper here with us, but you’ll have to follow our rules. Dishonesty is not allowed, and your actions show that you attempted to act deceitfully".

His hand drops yours as he grabs your arms on both sides, swiftly turning you around and pushing on you back with a firm hand so that you're bent over his desk.

You’re too startled to fight back, letting out a yelp as you feel him tower over you from behind. He leans down over your body, hand still firmly on your back, pushing down,

“You have probably heard stories of whipping those who refuse to see the light. But I am no monster, so I will spare you from the whip”, he murmurs next to your ear, hand on your back trailing downwards,

“My hand will serve”

Before you’re able to reply, or even fully take in what he’s telling you, you feel his large palm make swift contact with your backside, the gesture causing a loud smack to echo through the quiet room.

You let out a startled cry in pain as you turn your head to face Aemond, confused betrayal reflected in how your mouth fall open and eyebrows rise.

His hand smooths over the material of your skirt where he’s just slapped you, somewhat soothing the painful sting on your skin.

“For being deceitful, I’ll give you five smacks. That’ll teach you to behave”,

The stoic gentleness of his voice borders on sounding amused as he takes in your shocked face.

Can you still play along?

What will happen if you resist?

While you’re trying to calculate your next move, Aemond’s hand land another harsh hit on your ass.

You sqeel from the pain, but quickly try to stifle the sounds coming out of your mouth.

Your painfully aware of the fact that he left the door ajar.

The residents outside might hear what’s happening. You feel tears well up in your eyes from the humiliation; from the stinging pain on your backside.

Aemond shushes you as he once again smooths his hand over your abused flesh in a comforting manner,

“You’re doing so well, my love” he tells you, eyes meeting yours once again.

You don’t understand why his words stifle the anxiety you feel, but they do.

“Only three more”, he states as he lands another stinging hit on your ass, even harsher then before.

You can’t hinder the tears that escape down your cheeks anymore.

“Good girl”, Aemond coos as he soothes your pain with his palm. Though the fabric of your skirt separates your skin from his, you can feel the warmth radiating off him.

Hearing him praise you shouldn’t sooth your pain, or make you feel better in the slightest, but it does.

You notice the soft look of satisfaction in his eye and you feel proud.

His hand lands on you quickly and you bite your lip desperately to not cry out. More tears slide down your cheek as you give Aemond a pleading look.

“Just one more, and then you’ve served your punishment”, he reassures you as he caresses your stinging flesh.

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the last smack to land and when it does, you flinch before letting out a sigh of relief because you’d done it, you’d taken the punishment and now Aemond would be pleased with you.

The thought makes a warm sensation spread in your chest and when you open your tear-filled eyes, Aemond is already watching you with an expression that feels nothing less than loving.

While one hand stays on your backside to gently caress you, the other travels to you face, cupping your cheek. His thumb runs over your cheek, wiping away some of the wetness.

“You took your punishment so well. You make me proud”, he tells you, and his soft voice sounds so sincere. You lean into his touch on instinct, his palm providing comforting warmth to your cheek.

Being praised by him makes you feel happier than you’ve been in a long time.

It feels so good to be appreciated; to know you did something well. You can’t help but smile as your eyes lock with his. He smiles back at you.

“Now, I’ve got a surprise for you”, he tells you as he straightens up, grabbing your arm to link it with his. You know that there is more you need to talk about; more that’s unsaid. Yet, your mind feels fuzzy and you’re finding it hard to properly sort your thoughts out.

Aemond snakes his hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him and you lean into his warmth; it’s so comforting.

“Aemond, I-, I still need to know…”, your voice dies as you mentally search for a question.

What was it that made you leave?

Oh! Jon!

“Why did you cut Jons hand?”, you ask, hoping that the softness of your voice will prevent his impending irritation. You don’t think you could handle another punishment.

Aemond is quiet for some time, possibly pondering his response, before he speaks,

“Jon spoke out of turn, questioning my roles as the leader of this community. He now understands that everything I do is for the good of the commune and its residents”, he explains, arm still holding you by the side as his palm rests out on your stomach.

“Here in the commune, we know that scars tell a story; they remind us of our wrongdoings and guide us when we stray from the light of the Seven”

He stops in front of the door, turning slightly to look at you,

“You should be grateful I didn’t scar you, like I’ve done to others. Soon you’ll appreciate all that I've done for you”

He pushes the door to his office open, revealing the large hall where you’d been humiliated during Aemond’s sermon.

The residents of the commune are all facing you, watching you expectantly as you emerge from the office.

They’re all sitting on the exact same seats as before. The Sept is dark, illuminated only by the scarce moonlight shining through the seven-pointed star carved in the upper part of the buildings large walls, and by the candles lit across the room.

You see one of the residents standing by the altar where Aemond had stood during the sermon.

You recognise him as one of Aemond’s former professors in King’s Landing. The man is probably in his early to mid-sixties with grey specks clear in his brown locks. He offers you a smile as you approach with Aemond, his brown eyes warm and inviting,

“Welcome”

Aemond leads you to stand in front of the altar, arm still anchoring you to him.

“Is everything ready?”, your uncle inquires as his grip around you tightens.

“Yes. Let’s begin with the seven vows”, the elderly man says before reciting what sounds like a long prayer.

Having Aemond hold you makes you feel secure, and it takes you a while to really comprehend what is going on.

Why are the two of you standing here, instead of sitting with the other residents?

“Do you accept the seven vows, the seven blessings and the seven promises?”, he asks, warm eyes meeting yours.

“I do”, Aemond replies next to you, squeezing your waist in a silent command for you to do the same.

You turn to face him, brows furrowed in confusion.

What is it you’re agreeing to?

Aemond’s patience seems to run thin as you remain silent.

You notice his jaw twitch as he gives the resident in front of you a pointed look, prompting the man to respond in a quick nod before moving to join the onlookers.

Aemond turns to fully face you, yet he doesn’t move his arm, tugging you towards him so that your soft chest knocks against his.

“With this kiss, I pledge my love, and take you for my wife”, he says before he surges forward, crashing his lips against yours.

You stiffen in his grip, trying to back away from him but unable to move in his hold. You hear applause echo through the hall as Aemond retreats, a satisfied smirk on his lips.

You open your mouth to protest, but your voice is drowned out by the loud chanting of the onlooking residents,

“One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever”

They abruptly stand, chanting over and over as they move towards the large wooden doors of the entrance, going outside to leave you and Aemond alone in the Sept.

Even after the last person has left and closed the door, you can hear them chanting outside.

“One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever”

The slight tranquillity you’d previously found comfort in vanishes as you search Aemond’s face for an explanation; an answer as to what is going on.

His hand cups your cheek again, the loving look he’d offered you before you left his office still present,

“Your decision to leave tells me that you are lost. I’ll help you. I’ll help you see the light again”

You’re lost for words.

“I’m doing this for you. I know how much you crave to be loved. I’ll give you that. Just trust me”

His reassurance does little to calm your nerves as you feel dread pool in your gut.

“But Aemond, not like this, we can’t-”, you protest weakly. Despite the uneasiness taking root inside of you, your body betrays you as it still leans into the touch of his hand.

“I know how to fix you, just like I fixed Helaena”, he comforts you. His seeing eye seeks yours, silently inciting you to trust him,

“You were made for me, and I for you. I know you’ve been feeling lost for a long time. My uncle told me how depressed you were in Oldtown”

“The mother blessed women with wombs to heal their inner sadness. Becoming a mother will heal you”,

He pushes your body against the altar,

“We need to consummate our marriage, or it won’t be recognised by the Seven”

You feel dread settle in your bones as you take in his word.

“No, Aemond, please-, this is wrong! What would our mothers say?”, you desperately try to reason, panic making your breath quicker as he places his hands on either side of you on the altar; caging you in.

He lowers his head so closely that your noses touch, eye never straying away from yours,

“They’ll understand”

His lips find yours again. You know kissing him is wrong, yet your body melts into his touch as his soft lips press against yours.

Maybe they would understand?

Aemond’s tongue gently swipes over your lower lip, pushing to gain access. As he deepens the kiss, his hands travel down to your skirt, gathering the fabric in his grip before breaking away from you.

You’re both breathing heavily as you stay frozen, taking in each other's expressions. A thin line of translucent spit connects your lips and you notice Aemond’s eye flicker down to watch your kiss-swollen lips.

The conflicting emotions within you rage like the worst of storms, making your head spin. Aemond’s gentle prodding had successfully made you into putty in his hands, yet the uneasy feeling from before remains, steering you away from his control.

“No, no. We can’t, this has already gone too fa-”, you’re abruptly startled to silence as Aemond swiftly sinks down to his knees, pushing up the fabric of your skirt to expose your underwear.

You try to push your legs together but one of his hands quickly dart out to pull down the small piece of fabric separating your skin from his.

You place your hands on both sides of his head in an attempt to push him away, but his face moves towards your exposed centre with determination.

He grabs ahold of the outside of your thighs as he pushes your body towards his face, tongue immediately finding your bundle of nerves, swiping over it in rhythmic circles. Your grip on his head tightens as you push with all your strength for him to back away, but to no avail. He buries his face further into the apex of your thighs as he grips your tights painfully, fingertips leaving colourful marks of ownership.

You whine from the pain; from the pleasure building inside of you as Aemond forces your body into submission. He manhandles your right leg so that it rests on his shoulder, giving him further access to assault you with his mouth.

He sucks on your clit as he brings two fingers up to slide through your folds; the ease of which they glide lets him know the effect his touch has on you.

His fingers find your entrance, pushing inside to instantaneously curl forward, finding that spot inside you that always brings you waves of pleasure. You let out a startled moan as your hands go limp around Aemond’s head, simply resting there.

You close your eyes, violent pleasure making it hard for you to think clearly, just like how you’d felt in his office a few days ago.

Why does he have this effect on you? Why is he so good at this?

Why does it feel so good?

Another pathetic moan leaves your lips as he picks up the speed of his actions, purple and sapphire gaze watching you intently. You close your eyes once again, internally surrendering to his touch.

You want it. You need it.

You feel something ignite within you just as your peak crashes over you. The intensity makes your walls clench around Aemond’s fingers as you gasp in pleasure. Your legs shake from the force and you grab onto his hair for some stability.

He withdraws from you, slightly out of breath, and stands, large frame looming over you.

“No one else makes you feel as good as I do, no one else sees you like I do. We have found each other through the guidance of the seven, can’t you see that? We were meant to be”, he says and grabs your waist to hoists your slack body up on the altar.

He pushes your thighs apart, reaching down to undo his slacks and pulls them down just enough to free his length. It is just as intimidating as it had been yesterday; thick, veiny and ragingly red.

“You want this, I know you do”, he says before pushing inside you, causing you to whine at the stretch. You feel so full, and the impact of your orgasm makes your head feel fuzzy; like you’re floating away. Your walls contract around Aemond and he moans as he lowers his head to rest in the crook of your neck.

“You feel just as perfect as I knew you would”, he whispers in your ear. He draws his hips back, pushing them into yours with such force that your body jolts on the altar. You try to hold on to him with every harsh thrust, but your limbs feel too weak. It all feels so overwhelming, so good, that you can’t bite your lip hard enough to hinder the moans that bounce around the seven walls of the Sept.

One of Aemonds hands come down to draw circles on your clit once more. He pulls back slightly to watch you; to take in your pleasure-drunk expression.

“Let them hear you”, He presses down on your bundle of nerves harsher, still dragging his cock in strong, calculated movements along your walls.

The precision of his touch pushes you towards another peak, but when you feel it nearing, he withdraws completely, eyes flickering down to briefly admire the coat of your slickness adorning his manhood.

He grabs your hips, pulls you down from the altar and turns you around so that you’re facing away from him. Like in his office mere moments ago, he pushes on your back so that your chest makes contact with the wooden surface. He lets his cock glide through your folds before he leans down to mumble in your ear,

“Tell me what you want”

Robbing you of release has left you confused. Resigned and desperate, you let the throbbing between your thighs guide you,

“You, Aemond. I want you”

He pushes inside you again with a pleased grunt, picking up the pace quickly as he fucks you against the holy pedestal. Your hands grab both sides as it rocks in tandem with Aemond’s thrusts. His hand finds you clit again and this time you peak within seconds, pleasure washing over you as your legs turn into jelly.

You feel your legs give in, causing you to slide down on the floor. Aemond doesn’t let you go as he keeps fucking you, following you down to the floor. Your upper body jolts from the force of his movements, slowly slipping down to make contact with the cold stone floor.

He leans over you, pounding into you with force. One of his hands comes to rest above you on the altar, allowing him to fuck you harder, and you whine on the floor beneath him,

“Fucking take it”, he grunts as he goes harder, the contact of his hip bone against your abused backside sending stings of pain through your body.

His fingers find your clit again and you moan in pain-filled pleasure at the overstimulation, one hand reaching for his to push it away.

Aemond tuts behind you, “One more. Be good and give me one more”

You try to turn your head so that you can face him, but you’re unable to move, trapped under his body as he takes his pleasure from you. All you can do is take it; give in.

You cry out as you cum for the third time. Your walls clench down on Aemond’s length vigorously as they coax his release from him. You hear him sigh in pleasure as he fills you.

After a few moments, he pulls away from you, fingers moving to stuff whatever spend has trickled down your thigh back inside. You hiss at the pain. He whispers a gentle apology in your ear, helping you pull your underwear back up.

He stands and reaches down under the altar, picking up the flower crown that had fallen from your head sometime during the consummation. His fingers grasp it gently, placing it back on your head.

He looks so beautiful standing in front of you, the soft light from the candles and the silvery glimmer from the moonlight illuminating his features. He gives you another quick kiss before leading you out of the Sept to greet the residents still gathered outside.

As the two of you emerge from the building, beaming smiles, loud congratulations and well wishes for a prosperous future greet you and your husband.

Aemond never lets go of you, keeping you close to him as he chats with the residents; explaining his vision for the commune moving forward and the new role you’ll play as a permanent resident.

Somewhere inside, you know that you should feel ashamed over what just occurred; over the fact that the residents probably heard the entire ordeal as they patiently waited for you outside.

But all you can feel is bliss; a pleasant calm spreading from your chest. Heating up your insides.

Your life before now had been a long struggle, where you were forced to suffer. Forced to part from your closest childhood friend, forced to pursue a career to feel adequate, forced to live a mundane life in isolation.

Aemond pulls you away from the crowd, leaning down to whisper in your ear,

“Look up”

You see bright, green streaks of light decorate the dark night sky, accompanied by thousands of stars. It is the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen.

Aemond tugs you even closer to his side, resting his chin on your head as you silently admire the northern lights together. All you can feel is his warmth, the safety of being in someone’s embrace. Of being in Aemond’s embrace.

It’s warm.

Comforting.

Freeing.

Thank you for reading! 🩵

[cottonlemonade]

A medium fruit punch with frozen berries for Sugawara please?

Midnight Teachings

word count: 1579 || avg. reading time: 7 mins.

pairing: post-time skip!Sugawara x chubby!Reader

genre: fluffy smut, established relationship

warnings: mdni, spoilers, smut

request: fluffy-spicy, midnight with boyfriend Sugawara

Koushi made it easy to fall in love with his warm smile, his genuine kindness and the mischievous side he only showed to you once he knew you were on the same wavelength. When you moved to Japan to start your new job, you were determined to focus. Focus on learning the language and culture and focus on the kids under your care. Since your Japanese was rudimentary at best the head of the kindergarten thought it wise to keep you in the administration part of the job to acclimate before letting you roam around the children. But Koushi made the effort to get to know you from day one. You couldn’t stop throwing glances at the handsome man leaning leisurely against the counter with the coffee maker, as he tried his best to make you feel welcome with slow and simple Japanese sentences as well as surprisingly good English. His strong accent was immediately endearing, and you found your eyes following him when he left the room to get back to his class.

He had caught up to you on that Friday of your first work week, brushed a few of spring’s cherry blossom petals out of his hair like some dreamy anime character, and asked if he could maybe offer his help with improving your Japanese. The best method, he concluded, would be by going out after school for a coffee. The relaxed atmosphere of a coffee shop always helped him think, he added with a grin.

“That sounds a lot like a date.”, you had joked, and felt your cheeks growing hot at the brazen statement. Of course, you knew better than to think that a Japanese man would be that forward.

“Then you would be right.”, he had said and given you one of his smiles that already had you weak in the knees.

The dates quickly became more frequent. He would walk you home afterward, and you’d text until late in the night - all in the name of teaching, of course. But after a month of having him as your private tutor, he finally worked up the courage to confess, and you were finally his.

__________________

“Koushi? You know what I just realized?“, you asked one night. Your head was in his lap as you watched TV at his place. The midsummer heat was too relentless, even this late, to allow any outside activities, so you two had decided to stay in for the day and enjoy the fickle luxury of his temperamental air conditioning. He continued to comb his fingers through your hair.

“Hm? What‘s that, darling?“

“How does one learn dirty talk in a different language?“

He choked on his glass of water.

“Where did that come from?“, he coughed.

You sat up and looked at him.

“I was just thinking about the other night. I‘m guessing you didn‘t learn those things in English class.“, you grinned, “So where did you pick it up?“

“Uhm…“ He avoided your eyes and chuckled nervously.

“An old girlfriend?“, you asked, trying not to sound too jealous.

He quickly shook his head.

“Hmm, porn?“

When he didn‘t say anything, you figured you hit the nail on the head.

“Baby, you don‘t have to be embarrassed for watching porn. But I‘m wondering, would you like it if I learned some in Japanese?“

You saw his Adam's apple bob up and down in his throat as he swallowed.

“I mean… I would definitely not say No to that.“, he said slowly, his usual grin returning.

Excited that your idea was a good one, you got off the couch and went over to your bag to retrieve your tablet.

“Alright. I‘ll go study then!“, and you made to head towards his bedroom.

“Honey!“, he laughed and jumped off the couch, “You don‘t have to watch that.“

“But I want to.“, you pouted, then added, “Learn, I mean.“

He thought for a moment, then a rather familiar glint shone in his eyes and he took your hand.

“I have a better idea.“

You drew the thin bedsheet closer to you to hide your naked figure as you watched him shed his shirt and sweats, leaving him only in his boxers - the cute ones with the fish-print.

He joined you on the bed, laying next to you propped up on his elbow. You could see he was already half hard, and you bit your lips at the thought of - “Hey, sweetheart, my eyes are up here.“, he chuckled.

“Yes, sensei.“, you said automatically.

“Now, let‘s start with an easy one. Repeat after me.“

“Oh, I know this one!“, you called with a beam.

“Yeah?“, he nuzzled against your arm, “And what did it mean?“

You readily turned your head to one side to give him free access to your neck.

“Very good.“, he said, and leaned in to brush his lips against the sensitive skin. The kisses quickly became hot and opened mouthed, and you squeezed your plush thighs together under the blanket, feeling like you would drip on his bed at any moment.

“Then, let‘s try something a bit more advanced.“, he said after feeling like he had kissed your neck enough for the lesson. The next phrase was a lot more difficult.

“No idea.“, you admitted.

“Then just repeat it and see what happens.“, he grinned, raising his brow.

You squinted playfully. “What if you‘re teaching me unspeakable things?“

“Don‘t worry, sweetheart. I‘ll only teach you things I already know you love.“

So you repeated the phrase. He made you say it twice.

With gentle but deliberate movements he brushed the blanket out of your hands and guided you onto your back. He hovered for a moment above you, asking you to repeat the words one more time, then dipped his head lower to run his tongue over your breasts. With his tip he circled your pert nipples before taking them into his mouth, humming quietly. He loved this just as much as you. His hand reached up to cup your other breast, bringing the second nipple closer to him so it wouldn‘t feel left out, and he spent the next few minutes driving you insane between soft squeezes and hard sucks, nibbling on your soft flesh every now and then. You felt his hard cock rub against your thigh through his boxers.

When you were close to your first orgasm he stopped and laughed at your indignant whine.

You were hesitant to repeat the next phrase. What if it was more edging? You weren‘t sure you could take any tonight, the sheets beneath you already felt soaked.

“Well?“, he asked, waiting for you to say the new words.

“I understood “please“ but the rest, no idea. So…“

Once the phrase left your lips, your boyfriend scooted lower on the bed, pushing the rest of the pesky blanket out of the way. He groaned when he grabbed at your pudgy tummy. You were nothing short of a goddess to him, and he had spent many nights before, happily worshiping every inch of your ravishingly plump body.

He trailed kisses along your stomach and thighs before settling between them. You were so very wet for him, he could barely control himself. The sight and smell alone had him almost cum untouched.

“One more time, darling. Repetition is the best way to learn.“, he said softly, running his tongue over your inner thighs.

Once you finished the phrase he grinned. “So polite…“ And he dove between your legs.

“Ah, Koushi… don‘t stop… nngh… more…“, you panted, reaching down to grab his hair. He moaned into your pussy and wrapped his arms around your thighs to pull you against him, to taste more of you. You were so close from his earlier teasing that it only took a few slurps and flicks of his tongue until you unraveled. Looking up at you, he licked his lips, “Thank you for the meal, sweetheart. - Have some water before we continue.“, he straightened and sat back on his heels, the large imprint in his boxers was completely undeniable now. You rolled over to grab a bottle from the nightstand and stayed laying on your tummy as you took small sips, your head still spinning.

“You ready for more?“, he asked. His voice sounded shallow like he was trying to catch his breath. You nodded, then squeaked when his hands grabbed at your waist and pulled you backwards towards him so that you were on your hands and knees, grinding against him.

You were strongly hoping that the next sentence was supposed to be mean something along the lines of “Please dear god, just fuck me. I can‘t take it anymore, I need you inside me. Please just fuck me, please.“, but it was too short.

Instead, you felt his hand come down on the right cheek of your ass.

“Ah, Koushi…“, you whined, then repeated the sentence. He landed another soft spank on your flesh, making sure to massage it immediately after impact.

Sweat trickled down your back and Koushi himself brushed wet strands of hair out of his face that clung to his forehead.

“Harder…“, you mumbled into his pillow.

He smirked and leaned forward, pressing his chest and stomach flush against your back. He reached around to grab at your breasts and gave your ass another quick hit, rubbing the palm of his hand greedily against your sinfully soft flesh.

You turned your head to meet his lips. “You‘re such a fast learner, darling.“

a/n: this particular Suga story plot has been simmering and lurking in my brain for so long. Thank you for giving me a request I could use this for! I hope you liked it! 🌟

[the-record]

kissing lessons: 2

synopsis: ellie was your first kiss, but she moved away and you never spoke again. what happens when she moves back to town ten years later?

song: kissing lessons - lucy dacus

pairing: college!ellie x reader

warnings: mean moms, implied homophobia

a/n: uhm wow thank you so much for all the love the first part 🫶 yall are angels and i love u all! thinking this is a series!!!!!!

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

“damn. you grew up.”

you laughed, coming over and pulling ellie into a hug. “so did you, jesus.” you let go of her and joel pulled you into a hug of his own. “hi mr. miller.”

“jesus kid, how many times do i have to say not to call me that! its joel.”

the air was awkward as you pulled away from them both, memories of your childhood floating through your mind. “so, uhm, what are y’all doing back here? thought you wanted to be close to tommy?”

joel sighed and leaned on the cart he had been pushing. “yea, well, ellie wanted to go to school here.”

“they’ve got a great art program.” ellie interrupted. “didn’t think id get in, but i did on a scholarship, so we decided to come back.”

you smiled at her. “wow that’s amazing, you’ll have to show me your stuff some time!”

“absolutely, shes amazing.” joel said, throwing an arm around her shoulder. “what about you, are you still in school?”

you sighed and switched your basket to the other hand. “unfortunately, last year though!” you smiled.

“thats the spirit.” joel pat you on the shoulder. “we better get going, but it’s good to see you angel. hope we get to see more of you.” he turned back to the cart, looking at the list as he headed down the cereal aisle.

ellie cleared her throat before speaking again. “hey, can i get your number? y’know so we can catch up?”

“yeah, of course!” she slipped her phone into your hands, watching as you added your number to a new contact. “it’s really good to see you.” you said as you put your free arm around her neck in a hug.

“yea it is.” her arm squeezed your middle for a moment before you both let go, heading opposite ways. “see you around angel.”

“what’s got you so smiley?” your mom wondered as she chopped vegetables beside you.

you set down the knife your were holding, turning around to lean on the counter. “you remember ellie? the girl i was, like, best friends with in elementary school?” she nodded, her eyes flashing between you and the onion. “saw her and mr. miller at the grocery store. i guess they’re moving back so ellie can go to school here.”

she hummed, no reaction on her face. “will you get the chicken out the fridge for me?” she looked up when you didn’t move, just staring at her. “what?”

“you tell me.”

she sighed and set down her knife, getting the chicken herself. “i just… i never liked that girl.” she closed the fridge door and cut open the chicken, putting it in a bowl with some seasoning. “mr. miller is very kind, and his sarah is a sweetie.” she clicked her tounge. “but ellie seemed to be a bad influence on you. something off about that girl.”

you knew exactly what she meant.

ellie was a trouble maker. back-talking teachers, and pranking neighbors. and she was never the girly-girl the moms wanted her to be. too tomboy-ish for their daughters.

too queer for them.

“whatever.” you left the kitchen, grabbing your keys and walking out the front door like you used to all those years ago. you heard your mom call out for you as you left, but you ignored her, getting in your car and pulling away.

ellie had texted you earlier to give you her number, claiming she was always free.

e: hey angel its ellie 3:48

a: hey. glad i saw you today. 3:52

a: when are you free? 3:52

e: always 3:54

a: u free now??? 5:36

e: yea come over 5:36

e: sent a pin 📍 5:37

ellie raced down the stairs as you knocked on the door, yelling at joel “i got it” before he could get up.

he laughed and turned back to the tv. she’d done that as a kid too, never more excited than when you came over. she composed herself before unlocking and opening the door, a shy smile on her face.

“hey, come in.” she stepped back, watching you come inside and slide off your shoes along side hers. she took your hand, a habit she never dropped, and led you upstairs to her room.

“hey angel!”

you smiled softly, peeking around a corner and seeing joel watching the news. “hi mr. miller.”

“it’s joel!”

ellie rolled her eyes, pulling at your arm. you scoffed, letting her guide you. “now, my room is just bones right now. im only here temporarily so…”

she wasn’t joking.

her bed frame sat against a wall not put together, all her stuff in boxes. a suitcase sat by the closet with clothes and essentials. her mattress tucked in a corner with sheets and a pillow. walls bare and books hidden.

“this is boring.” you teased as you flopped onto her mattress face first. when you looked over to ellie she was standing awkwardly at the door, hands at her sides and eyes on the floor. “what the hell are you doing?”

she shrugged, shuffling forward. “ ‘don’t know. feels weird.”

you laughed, staring at her incredulously. “you just yanked me up your stairs to your room, and now it’s weird?”

“you’re right.” she stood at the foot of the mattress before falling on top of you.

“jesus!”

ellie gasped and rolled off you. “do not say the lord’s name in vain missy! can you imagine what your mother would do if she heard?”

she felt the energy sour at the mention of your mom. “you okay?”

she watched as you sat up and followed suit, sitting criss cross in front of you. “i hate living with her. she finds a way to ruin everything.” you picked at the hole on your jeans, pulling at the white threads.

“let me guess,” ellie said, leaning onto her hands behind her. “not so happy to hear im back in town.” you looked at her with a guilty expression. “she never liked me. none of the moms did.”

“yea, well, theyre all idiots.” you huffed and picked at her jeans instead. “she just… any time im excited she has to find a way to ruin it. i just wanna move out.”

you were both silent for a minute. ellie watched as you picked and twisted the the strings on her pants, separating them just to pinch them back together. “move in with me.”

your head shot up to look at her.

[wip]

just how many official tumblr blogs are there? i just recently found out that this one and changes exists which seems less than ideal

Hey, @limelocked!

Great question! We have, we hope, a great answer for you. First up is a comprehensive list of all of current active staff blogs.

You can find ’em by simply searching each name, + @, in the search bar. (i.e., @action)

@action: Highlighting Tumblr’s long-standing social justice priorities of racial justice, mental health, equality, and beyond.

@art Exploring and featuring original artists on Tumblr.

@artistalley: Supporting local artists on Tumblr by buying directly from their storefronts.

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@bigweekon: Tumblr’s beloved podcast highlighting recent trends, memes, and more.

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@books: Exclusive interviews and curated content from authors, publishers, and book fans.

@changes: Your go-to for new Tumblr launches, bug fixes, and updates on platform.

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There’s more. For our global audiences, you can find all the localized Staff blogs. They’re linked here!

We also have a carousel in the feed somewhere called “Official Blogs,” but it might be that we need to make that more obvious or provide a dedicated feed or page somewhere.

Leave that last point with us, but we hope that helps! Thanks for your question, and have a good day.

(And a tip of the hat to you, @lizzieonka! Consider them tagged)

Best,

—Caragh, Cates, and Cyle

[wonijin]

EARTH ARCADE!READER/AHN YUJIN

headcanons and moments between earth arcade member!reader and ahn yujin.

tags: 1.5k words of pure fluff.

warnings: none probably

you were the 5th member of earth arcade. a young actress that has been garnering attention recently.

laughter echoed throughout the stairway. suddenly, nervousness prevents you to climb the last few steps of the stairs . you peek in the corner to see a familiar face facing the doorway, lee youngji.

deciding there’s really no choice but to move forward you enter the doorway, bowing and greeting. everybody paused for a second, then chaos ensued.

“woah!” lee eunji, a comedian you often see on TV, exclaims before reciting your lines from your latest drama.

mimi, from oh my girl, joins in not soon after. even going as far playing the role of your scene partner.

“thank you for having me. nice to meet you.” you greet politely.

“gosh. you’re so formal.” younji poked fun good-naturedly at your antics despite bowing in response. “don’t worry. im sure she’s going to be infected by your rowdiness soon enough.” eunji quickly replied earning a loud laugh from mimi.

“wait. wait. do you know anybody in this room?” this time it was producer na who took a jab at your surprising awkwardness.

“well, i know you.” you look straightly at producer na. he chuckled at your honesty.

“i know everybody from TV and mostly from social media. this is my first time meeting everybody.”

before you can react, you hear youngji let out a load “oh!”. you turn towards the door to see ahn yujin, one of the literally and figuratively hottest idols in the industry.

you’ve only seen her on your screen. now, your mouth gape at the sight of the real thing. ahn yujin in the flesh.

withouth thinking, you bowed repeatedly like an idiot. “oh my gosh, what an honor!”

“miss y/n l/n. oh my god.” yujin ran over to you. and the sole reason you stopped your continuous bowing was to admire her. ‘wow, she’s so close.’

your eyes popped out their sockets as she takes your hand and shakes it gently. “im a big fan. i watch your dramas religiously. i can name all your projects, i’ve watched each of them at least twice.” she professes, not once pausing.

“thank you. what an honor. im a big fan of yours as well. wow, you’re hands are so soft. sorry, im being weird. its just- wow.” you breathed out.

laughter echoed through the room as everybody watched your exchange.

“its like one fan girl meeting another.” mimi exclaims. “their eyes turned heart-shaped for a moment like those cartoon characters” eunji added.

your eyes find yujin’s only to find hers already looking you.

yujin was a big fan of yours even way before meeting you in jiraksil. what she didn’t know was that you were bigger fan of hers.

you rummage through your luggage until you found what you were looking for. if the people around you didn’t know any better they would've you were a thief thirsty for something valuable.

“y/n, you look like a racoon in a garbage can.” mimi jested.

“aha! found it!” you exclaimed, holding up a package in the air like its a trophy.

eunji steps closer to inspect. “its an…album.” she traced confusedly.

“yep.” you walked towards yujin who was watching the entire scene unfold through the comforts of her bed.

you held the album with both your hands and extended your arms towards her, looking similar to a school girl confessing to her crush by giving chocolates.

“will you please sign it.” you shut your eyes tightly, like a school girl afraid of getting rejected.

in the show, you play the good-for-nothing chaos maker role together with younji.

“oh come on. do i really have to pair up with you?” yujin complains but her wide smile betrays her.

“how could you say that?” you exclaim then proceeds to chase yujin around, puckering your lips and making kissing sounds while opening your arms. you both run around, you chasing her and yujin trying to escape your grasp. she squeals and giggles. and when you did catch her you wasted no time in tickling her.

“somebody get these two love birds away from me. i can’t watch any longer.” younji makes a gagging noise.

nine times out of ten you mess up causing you to receive an earful from a perfectionist yujin.

“you should've known that! it was so easy!” yujin berates you. but despite her words, her smile beams at you brightly.

“how would i know that? that song is practically ancient.” your hands fly up in the air defensively.

“even i know that.” yujin retorts.

“that’s because you’re like a grandma in teenagers body. a normal person your age wouldn’t know that.” you argued.

“what?!” yujin looked at you dramatically like you’ve done an unspeakable crime, like you just kicked a dog.

“there they go again. they’re like an old married couple.” eunji deadpans at the camera.

yujin likes annoying and bullying you as a form of showing her adoration.

“eunseo-ah! i got something to tell you!” yujin stand from the couch abruptly to recite your lines from your drama.

usually, you take pride in your work but yujin had impersonated you for the nth time today that you can’t help but cover your ears.

“somebody please! make it stop!” you plead. the other members chuckle at your misery.

“eunseo-ah! i’ve like you since we were kids! please go out with me.” yujin continued, this time much more dramatic than the last.

she's reenacting a scene from one of your most famous dramas. a scene where your love interest, which yujin is embodying right now, is confessing love to your character, eunseo.

“eunseo-ah! eunseo-ah” the idol shakes your arm giddily as you look straight. she takes entertainment at your exasperation. and continues to mimic your characters from various dramas for the rest of the night.

yet she never fails to show her adoration towards you in other ways.

“eunji, what do you think?” yujin asks the older girl who was browsing at the rack of clothes.

“it looks amazing on you! you should buy it!” eunji encourages the younger girl.

“oh! it isn’t for me. its for y/n” yujin clarifies.

“im sure she’d be happy to receive that. in fact, im sure she’d be over the moon with anything you give her.” eunji recalls how much you dote on yujin. “you could get her a random rock and she’d probably treasure it like it’s from space.”

yujin’s cheeks flared red at the thought. eunji laughs at her embarrassed state. “you’re both such dorks.”

in the end, yujin couldn’t decide which one you’d like best so she bought three different clothes for you.

your relationship peaked in the wake up mission where you secretly help yujin because you felt bad for her.

you found out yujin’s mission when you entered the shower after her. the shower reeked of garlic. you had to laugh at the absurdity of the smell. in addition, there were bits and pieces of garlic skin on the floor. putting two and two together didn’t take long after that.

the lights were out. youngji and mimi were asleep but you were unable to. so you ventured out until you heard noises. it was faint but your mind is still alert from all the caffeine you took that day.

heading towards the noise, you found yourself before yujin and eunji’s room. you carefully open the door to meet yujin’s wide eyes.

yujin looked like a lunatic holding the pestle midair with her crazy eyes. you chuckle lightly, tiptoeing towards her. “you’re too competitive for your own good.”

“don’t tell anybody.” yujin quickly pleads.

“there’s no one to tell anything to.” your words put her at ease. at much ease someone mincing garlic in the middle of the night could feel.

“why are you still awake anyway?” she asks you silently. “i don’t know. i guess my body was itching to pester you.” even through the dark, yujin’s smile still shined bright. and you hoped the darkness was enough to hide the redness of your cheeks.

fans adore your dynamic with yujin. the push and pull relationship you both have managed to gather a lot of attention on social media.

“everybody, slow down. i can’t read your comments, they’re too fast.” you squint at the screen. you were live on instagram, hoping to interact with your fans.

after the live chat had slowed down, one comment managed to catch your eye.

“are you wearing yujin’s shirt?” you looked down at the said piece of clothing. sure, you had no memory of buying this particular shirt but that goes a lot for your other shirts as well. some were sponsored, gifts or bought while drunk. you assumed it was one of those three.

until, a loud ping came from your phone and a notification popped at the top of your screen.

yujinnie: yes, that’s mine. i put it on your suitcase so it’ll remind you of me ;).

you smile like an idiot while reading the text. then, you realize something. yujin is watching this live because how else would she send that in perfect timing.

your face flush at the thought of her being amongst the thousands watching you right now. and you flush a shade darker, because she must’ve witnessed you grin at her text.

the comment remained unanswered as you decided to keep this detail to yourself.

even after filming season one, yujin continues to support you by posting scenes from your drama. her instagram quickly transformed into a fanpage because of how often she would fan girl about you.

[srbachchan]

DAY 5982

Jalsa, Mumbai July 4/July 5, 2024 Thu/Fri 10:52 am

Birthday .. Ef Sweta Prasad .. July 5, 2024 .. all our good wishes and love ❤️

🪔 ,

July 05 .. birthday greetings to Ef Shashikant Pedwal from Pune .. and Rajat Watel from Jammu .. 🙏🏻❤️🚩

.. a 3rd viewing for me and twice for many that came on an invite .. the experience just keeps building .. every time you notice and admire the pains taken by the Director in putting this massive vision into fructification , and presenting it in a manner that makes the film historic .. historic not just in its commercial prospects, but historic in its values of the audacious mind of the Director in metamorphosing the legend of the Mahabharat with its manifestation after 6000 years , into the viewage of modern day humans that go to see the film TODAY in 2024 ..

2024 ... centuries away from 2898 ( in the title of the film) .. which has been calculated after references to the Puran and Ved to be the moment of the reincarnation of Krishna - the Avatar that shall be born at the ending of the Kalyug - when all the atrocities, lies and irregularities of the World to be exhausted and overcome ..

The brilliance of interpreting a mythological Epic - the Mahabharata, which comprises of over 1 lakh 40 thousand verses , the largest epic ever in the history - and bringing it to modern day - well modern meaning 2898 AD - and to embellish it with the subtle nuances, which govern the past with what is to happen after the Mahabharata is over - the war between the Kauravas and the Pandav armies that lasted 18 days ..

SO WHAT NEXT .. WHAT HAPPENED AFTER IT WAS OVER ..

does life remain in its stagnancy or there is more ..

WELL FIND OUT BY SEEING KALKI .. and revel in its vast and massive presentation .. and to live till the FINALITY of its story-telling in the wait of the Part 2 ..

SO .. had a wonderful chat with Nag Ashwin for the camera and it should be out soon hopefully as a Podcast or on the TV channels , soon ..

Yes the film is a massive spectacle .. but it is also a learning .. a learning of the merger of myth and reality .. and a learning to the film makers on the process of putting this mammoth together for a viewing audience ..

It is humbling and perhaps not in my league to speak of a project which has been involved with me also , but at times it does become unavoidable .. such be its magnification in its discuss ...

The chat, or as some prominent journalists have titled previous effort with me and the cast of the film as the Kalki Chronicles , could well be titled the Kalki Director Chronicles ..

And I do wish that the Production be swift in putting it out as a PodCast , for it to be viewed and heard by several more ..

I retire now as the night was long and the morning early .. but shall slumber in the essence of Kalki , irrespective of the yay's and nay's of the World for it ..

My love 😍

Amitabh Bachchan

[supercap2319]

part two please

Y/N hoped that Stefan was lying to him. That at this very moment, Bonnie was doing a locator spell to help bring him home. That Damon knew where Stefan had fled to, and he and Elena were on their way to pick him up. He hoped that when Stefan said no one was coming for him, it was just a clever tactic to scare him into behaving, but deep down, Y/N knew Stefan was telling him the truth.

No one was coming to his rescue. It was just him and Stefan, alone in this chateau. It was like a cold rock had settled itself inside Y/N’s stomach. He had no magic to defend himself from a Ripper vampire. Stefan would never hurt him, but he would punish, and Y/N didn't know what kind of punishments Stefan had in mind for witches who don't behave themselves.

A shiver ran down his spine as Y/N tried not to cry in between making his sandwich upon returning to the living room with Stefan. The vampire had already opened up another blood bag, and was greedily drinking from it. He gave Y/N a suspicious look. As if he knew Y/N was trying not to be sad, or that he could smell it on him.

“Don't be sad, Y/N. I'm a great babysitter. Just do exactly as I tell you, and we won't have a problem.” Stefan said.

Y/N nods. He's been in worse situations than this, but he's always had Stefan to back him up. He's always had Elena, hell, even Damon. Y/N could even count on his magic as well, and now… He didn't have either of those things.

“Good. Now, finish your food, I want to show you to your room.”

“I get a room? What no dungeon downstairs?” Y/N asked.

Stefan smiled bemused. “Of course you get a room, but if you'd prefer to sleep somewhere else that's other than comfortable, I think there's a doghouse out back.”

“No. Bedroom is fine.”

Stefan led him up the staircase, and towards a bunch of rooms and hallways until he opened a door for Y/N. “This is your room.” Y/N walked into the room that had a giant king sized bed with European walls and decorations. With a flat screen TV and coffee maker. “There's a bathroom through there and a closet for all your stuff. This was my old room back in 1864 when Winfield Sutherland invited me to stay with him and his family.”

“Do I wanna know what happened to the Sutherlands?” Y/N asked.

“Probably not.” Stefan shrugged before he got closer to Y/N, until their lips were almost touching. “Don't even think of trying to escape. It won't end well for you, and I'd hate having to punish you on your first night here.” It was a warning. A threat, but there was a hidden meaning underneath it as well. A promise of something more than just punishment, but something of erotic as well.

Y/N nods and gulps. Stefan smirks and walks towards the door. “I'm just down the hall if you need anything.”

“Wait, you're not going to sleep with me?” Y/N asked.

Then he immediately regretted what he said because of how it sounded. He didn't mean it like that at all, but apparently he and Stefan were on the same wavelength, because the vampire gave him a wolfish grin. “Oh, you want me to sleep with you? Such a naughty boy. I figured you'd wait until later on to act like a slut for me.”

Y/N blushed. “That's not what I meant. Now, can you please get out?”

Stefan chuckled and walked off.

After changing into his pajamas, Y/N tucked himself into the comfortable bed and was trying to sleep, when the door to his bedroom opened. There was a blur and some weight was added to the bed. Y/N turned to see a shirtless Stefan Salvatore. His green eyes were trained on the ceiling with his arms behind his head. God he was so handsome with his perfect hair, chiseled features, and sculpted that Y/N remembers running his tongue over. He wanted so desperately to jump Stefan's bones, but he had to be strong. He couldn't give into temptation, otherwise, Stefan would have total control over him.

For now, he would enjoy the warmth of Stefan's body against his own as Y/N closed his eyes and let sleep overtake him.

[timetoletmyimaginationfly]

Coffee

Nanami Kento x Reader

(Song inspiration: Coffee Breath by Sofia Mills)

“We have one already?” Nanami said.

“But this one is different.”

“Our coffee pot makes a bunch of coffee. Why this?”

“It makes espresso.” Nanami was quiet and put in a bunch of pros and cons in his head. You held his hand and placed your head on his shoulder. “Please! It’ll save money because I won’t have to buy eight dollar lattes!” Nanami sighed. It was a good reason and you convinced him more with puppy dog eyes that he could never resist.

“Alright,” he said. “Go pick one.” He watched your smile grow.

And when you two arrived home, you happily set up the new coffee/espresso maker next to the coffee pot. Nanami watched and smiled. He loves doing anything to make you happy. Once you finished setting up, you sat on the couch next to him and went on the website.

“What are you doing now?” he asked curiously.

“Ordering the espresso. We need to go to the store so I could buy flavored syrups and more milk for my lattes,” you said.

“Can we go tomorrow? We should’ve just gotten it before we arrived home.”

“I forgot.” Nanami shook his head at your sheepish smile. He pulled you in closer and looked at your phone screen.

“That looks good,” he said. “Caramel.” You added it to the cart. “Really? An intense one? I thought you hate bitter.”

“It won’t be after I add all the sugar and milk in it.”

“So when are they coming in?” Nanami asked.

“It says sometime this week,” you said, reading the notification. “That’s really quick. Do you want some coffee, Kento?”

“Sweetheart, it’s four in the afternoon. You really need coffee?”

“I’m gonna need it for the grocery store.” Before you could add coffee grinds to the filter, Nanami grabbed you by the waist. “Kento!”

“Sweetheart, don’t worry about it right now. I promise you’ll get your things before the espresso comes in.” He leaned in and kissed your pouty lips.

“Sorry, I’m just too excited.” Nanami lightly chuckled.

“I know. It’s very endearing on you.” You gave him a bright smile and kissed his lips. “Now, you keep bugging me all week about this new show you found.”

“I totally forgot about that! Kento, it’s so funny!” And you grabbed his wrist, excitedly dragging him to the couch.

You stirred in bed. You swore you could smell coffee in your dream. The idea of your new coffee machine made you so excited. When you woke up, Nanami’s side of the bed was empty. But with the door slightly ajar, you could hear the news from the TV. And the smell of coffee…it smelt different. You got up as you rubbed your tired eyes. When you left the bedroom and headed to the kitchen, you watched Nanami place your coffee mug on the counter. He smiled when he saw you.

“The espresso came, sweetheart,” he announced. Your eyes widened.

“Already?!” you exclaimed. Nanami nodded his head. “Wait, did you make one?” Nanami nodded to your mug.

“I went to the store,” he said. He opened the cabinet, where it used to contain the spices, were various syrup flavors. “I bought one of each. Except the vanilla and caramel. I bought three of each. And I have a project for you.”

“Which is?”

“I bought a new spice rack since the syrups are taking over. And I bought those empty spice containers with the cute labels that you love showing me on Pinterest.” You hugged him tightly and kissed him.

“Thank you, Kento.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Go try your latte.”

“Okay!” You skipped over to your mug. You smiled. He added whipped cream on the top with sprinkles of cinnamon. You took a sip and smiled. “Mmm that’s delicious.” Nanami walked over to you. You took another a sip and before you swallowed it, Nanami passionately kissed you. He pulled away and licked his lips.

“Very tasty,” he said with a wink.

[e-rated-beardo]

Scorn and the Saint-Maker, chapter 32: I can’t face this life alone

Scorn and the Saint-Maker is a murder mystery/ineffable husbands romance/who-turned-them-human Good Omens fanfic, set at a university in Scotland, with lots of (as-yet skippable) level-5 smut, ✨sexy maths✨ (reportedly), and one trans angel

Of course Tumblr's link block got fucky again when I wanted to post. Of course. (And yeah, I know it's because of AO3's request throttling, but it's still Tumblr's fault for not making their post UI able to deal with that at all. A new request every time someone pastes a link in the post UI is just irresponsible coding tbh. GROW BETTAH)

Chapter 32 summary: The aftermath.

Rating: Chapter rated T; fic E (for skippable smut and some heavy topics).

Notices/warnings: Further hospital/medical stuff. References to all the recent drama and to the sick from a few chapters back (also non-graphic).

Excerpt:

“You had a breathing tube,” Ruaraidh said without looking up. “Said they were worried you might ‘aspirate’. I’m not sure what that means, but it sounds like something you’d want to avoid.” Anthony looked around as well as he could to assess the situation. A number of cords and tubes connected him to a collection of interesting-looking machines on a wheeled trolley; one machine looked very much like the heart monitors he had seen in medical shows on TV. There was a tallish steel rack on which was hung a rectangular bag containing a near-clear liquid. The bag had a label, but he could not read it. “Apologies for the less than enthusiastic ‘welcome back to life’ speech,” Ruaraidh continued dispassionately. “I’m told you came in with a blood alcohol content of about fifty basis points. That’s over six times the legal limit and more than enough to kill most people. Too bad,” he added as an afterthought. “Would’ve saved us all a lot of trouble.”

Read chapter 32 on AO3 ➡️ or start from the beginning ↩️ (141k words, WIP)

...or go back to chapter 28, where the cliffhanger run starts ➡️

For the sake of my sanity (and the quality of my coursework, and the continued quality of Scorn, frankly), I’m going to slow down posting to fortnightly instead of weekly for a while.

This last run of chapters... was pretty unpleasant to write, not going to lie, and probably contributed to the slowing-down (*coughs* near-complete cessation) of my writing mid-autumn. Writing about people having an awful time makes one feel kinda down... go figure. For the past few weeks – since I’ve started seeing the end of the current angstfest, which I’m sure is a complete coincidence – I’ve somehow managed to write about one new chapter a week again, but given that’s not been my average for a while, I’m sure you can understand my worry. 🙂

I’ll be posting chapter 33 next Thursday on the normal schedule, then it’s two weeks per after that. There might be the occasional bonus chapter or bullshit spinoff or drawing posted in the gaps, but Scorn proper is going to have to take priority.

Hi @goodomensafterdark as usual, hi also @addledmongoose who I know has been waiting for the end of cliffhangers ❤️ (and hi to everyone else who also has, who I don't know about!)

[edwin-paynes-bowtie]

hypothetically given the good connection they have with fans, could the dead boy detectives cast and writers simply find someone other than netflix who will work with them and produce tv independently? sorry i know nothing about the film industry but there are independent artists, is there any reason there can't be independent tv show makers? or is dead boy detectives copyrighted all the way to its ending, the characters owned by netflix? if so surely they could write a new show independently and sell them on DVDs?

So this is theoretically a good idea. The problem for DBDA specifically is that Netflix commissioned a script of season 2 from Steve (the head writer/creator) before season 1 even came out. He wrote season 2 and sold it to them, thinking they liked and believed in the show.

Unfortunately, Netflix has done this before. They commission and purchase the second season of shows solely so the writers can't pitch and sell it to competing streaming platforms. It's capitalism at its finest.

So, no. Dead Boy Detectives season 2 as it was originally written belongs to Netflix. To sell it somewhere else, a new season 2 would have to be written, something entirely different than the plan.

DBDA also has an added problem: its connection to Sandman.

Sandman is a Netflix show written by, unfortunately, Neil Gaiman.

DBDA has pretty much nothing to do with him, and it was certainly canceled for unrelated reasons. However, there are two scenes in the show with Sandman characters in them - Death and Despair, both owned by Netflix for their ongoing Sandman series. It also looks likely that George Rexstrew will cameo in Sandman season 2 as Edwin, making the link even stronger.

So:

Netflix would need to be the ones to sell Dead Boy Detectives because they own the season 2 script.

Netflix is unlikely to sell DBDA because it contains characters that their platform owns.

Even if he were to rewrite s2 completely, Steve will struggle to sell the rights to another network because of the Sandman cameos and its connection with characters Netflix owns.

I personally advocate for DBDA to be written with no Sandman connection in the future if it continues regardless - getting Neil out of the production is both super easy (since he has nothing to do with it besides those Sandman cameos) and important (his career needs to die.) But, like, DBDA isn't connected with him directly. So.

But as of now, that's not possible.

[sosadraws]

Haii, Sosaaa! Okay, so i wanna get into animation BUT I'm really new. Lucky for me I know someone who's awesome at animating (that's you btw) so I need your expertise. What program do you use, and also do you have any tips for a newbie?

Aww Jay, you flatter me~✨but before answering I must put the disclaimer that I'm just a hobbyst animator with no formal training, that during quarintine thought "Oh woah, these Multiple Animation Projects that people do in YT are so cool! I want to join them!" and started learning by herself. Take everything I say with a grain of salt.

First things first: I mainly use TV Paint. However I'm not letting you spent money on paid stuff you don't even know you'll like, so here are some free alternatives that I've used as well:

Krita is mostly a drawing program, but it also has a animation interface. The red and black parts of the Helena AMV were made with this.

Flipaclip is kinda neat phone/tablet app for when you want to animate on the go, but it can also feel more limiting since various features have to be unlocked by watching ads or getting the premuim version (in typical app fashion, I guess...)

Blender, while mainly meant for 3D animation, also has been developing Grease Pencil, that allows 2d animation in both 2D or 3D spaces. And the lines are vectors, so you can edit them after drawing them and such.

You can even use normal drawing programs. I've animated with Paint Tool Sai and Medibang by drawing all the frames, saving each frame as a image in sequence (001, 002, 003...) and putting them together in some editing program or gif maker. It's possible, but it's more work.

There's also OpenToonz, which is an open source version of the software used by Studio Ghibli in some movies?? I haven't used this one, but I'll leave it here in case you want to give it a try.

For editing (In the rare scenarios where I do fancy editing) I use After Effects. I can't personally recommend any free substitute, but as far as I've read, DaVinci Resolve seems like a good replacement.

Now, regarding actual animation advise, I won't explain the principles or terminology because:

It's very overwhelming since it's A LOT of information, specially for a beginner

I work mostly by vibes, so there are concepts I don't undertand well enough to explain to others

Instead I'll foward you this whole book that goes in detail about all that technical stuff.

That being said, at the end of the day, hand-drawn animation is drawing main poses (aka key poses) and then drawing a bunch of more drawings in between until the drawings together look like they move.

So yeah, it's a lot of work,

....but it doesn't have to be tedious work~ 👀✨

As a hobbyst I live for the philosophy of vibing during the process instead of chasing perfect results, and I'm assuming that you just want to try for funsies and not that you're trying to become a pro industry animator anyways. Here are my personal tips to make the animation process more bearable:

1- Pick something you love! Seriously, any long task becomes more bearable when it's about a theme or character you enjoy. There's a reason why most of my animations have been about HnK or Signalis,

2- SIMPLIFY THAT DESIGN! Before you even pick the pencil, I want you to really look at the design of whatever you're going to animate and ask yourself "Are all the details in this design really necessary?" Every extra detail really starts to add when you have to draw the same thing multiple times for a single second of animation. You don't need to add all the robotic details on replika bodies, or draw every single stripe a tiger has, to put an example.

3- Keep it simple! At some point you might have a cool idea of an anime style epic battle with looks of cool explosions, camera angles, awesome fighting choreograpies and whatnot; but you first have to start small or else you'll get overwhelmed and not finish anything (been there, done that). Start with something simple like a bouncing ball, or if you're feeling brave, a walk cycle or a character turning their head. In that same sense, remember the book I linked? Don't try to learn all of it at once, go one step at a time.

4-Use references! On google images there are multiples breakdowns of things like run, flight or walk cycles, for example, and you can even use youtube videos! (tip: pause the video and use "," and "." to move back and forth between frames). In case you need help with a very specific pose or movement, you can use yourself or a friend recreating the pose irl (yes, the process is very embarrasing, and yes, the results are worth it)

4- You don't have to animate/redraw everything everytime. We aren't going for Oscar winning levels of animation here anyways. It's ok to copy and paste across different frames, only animate certain parts of the body and leave the rest static, panning the camera to simulate movement... Listen, if actual standars profesionals cut corners, why can't we? We aren't even getting paid for this!

6- It's ok to suck at first. My first animation was this kitty back in 2016,

and here's this Elster from last year doing similar movements.

It's not perfect by any means, but I feel like both art and animation-wise there has been some improvement. And I guess that right now I could remake it and make it even better, but that's because I got more experience and a better eye at finding mistakes and how to solve them, and you get that with practice.

...So yeah, there's that, have fun in your animation endeavors 👍✨

[razildor]

WIP Wednesday Thursday

Was tagged by the amazing @farore05 thanks!

I don't have anymore to show from Smoke, it's due to be posted soon.

So instead I'll just post what I've been working on the side, it might see the light of day who knows.

Modern Day AU. With Rook being a broke skateboarder and Emmrich a rich Professor or something- Sugar Daddy to be, but he has no idea he's even being one, he just wants to be nice and help Rook.

Tagging: @holdingontojupiter @ollypopwrites @heylittleriotact @redheadsramblings and anyone who wants, I know I'm late to the party lol.

Rook was having a bad day. No. A miserable day in fact, her rent was overdue by three days, the lock on her apartment door was busted, and the landlord won't repair it until she pays rent. 

So for the past week she's been using a chair to jam the handle in hopes it would stop any wayward robbers from coming in. Not as if she owned anything worth stealing. Not unless they're after a half working TV that only shows the news and some weird Orlesian drama show then by all means they can take it.

Then she over laid for her shift at the bar! Her damn alarm didn't go off! Again! she ended up throwing it at the wall while she scrambled out of bed, throwing on clean clothes, ripped jeans, a short shirt, a jacket with too many holes in around the edges and her trusty skate shoes- that were almost falling apart like her life right now. 

“Shit! Fuck! Damnit! Where the fuck did I put my phone?!”

 Rook shouts, frantically throwing pillows, blankets and the odd empty energy drink off the bed, letting out a loud “AH!” Once her hand skims over the phone that somehow found itself under the bed. Looking at the charge she groans out of annoyance. Five percent battle life, she hopes she can steal someone's charger while at work.

Pocketing the phone Rook bolts out the door, yet quickly comes back to grab her skateboard, slamming the door behind her and ignoring the shout of her neighbour protesting to the noise.

Rook weaves in-between people and parked cars, some even in drive. Pushing the board fast as it would go, sweat started to form on her brow from it. She can't be late again! Maybe she could make up for it with overtime? Eh… worth a try?! Rook didn't have high hopes, the boss was an ass.

“Maker, what the fuck am I gonna do… Urgggh, why can't money rain from the sky or something!”

She flails her arms in the arm, snapping out of her thoughts from the sound of her phone pinging in her pocket, making sure she wasn't going to ride into anyone Rook took the phone out, the little skull charm swinging from the movement. It was Taash, asking if they were going to meet up later after her shift. Rook shoots back a reply, agreeing. She could do with getting drunk too.. yeah that sounds like a good idea.

Rook nods to herself to the thought, quickly adding the idea in the message as she turns a corner, not seeing where she was skating.

“Look out!”

“Wha- oh shit-!”

The Skater looked up from her phone to see an older looking man right in the pathway of her board. Rook quickly swerves out of the way, yet her eyes were more on the gentleman looking fellow more than where she was going.

“Urgh!!”

Rook went head first into a pole, sending her off the skateboard hitting the hard pavement. Her head was ringing, face hurt and… wet? Shit. She slowly sits up, a hand moving to cover the pain on her nose, pulling back the hand to see blood. “Ah, shit.” she mutters, sitting more upright the best she can.

“Oh, my! Are you alright?!”

The voice of the man she almost ran into kneels down, a look of concern on his handsome face- ‘wait, handsome? Wait..no! He looks old enough to be my dad or something!’ She screamed in her mind, still staring at the man’s face even as something and pushed into her hand. ‘Oh, his hair looks and mustache looks straight out of one of those old black and white movies. Damn.’

“Miss? Are you alright? Your nose is bleeding, please hold this to it.”

A hand covered in rings touched the handkerchief in her none blooded hand, she follows the man's instructions in a daze, bringing the cloth to her nose, winching from the pain, to keep her mind off the pain Rook takes a long moment to stare at the other's hand. Seeing the gold she wonders if he was rich. ‘Must be nice having all that money, bet he's not eating instant noodles every night.’ Rook bitterly thought.

“Who the fuck uses actual handkerchiefs in this day and age?”

The older gentleman stutters, taken off guard by the vulgar language she used. 

“Really, miss. There's no need for such language. And a handkerchief is still very popular amongst the gentleman kind, in this day and age.” He said in a matter of fact tone.

Rook couldn't help but snort, regretting it as a wave of pain shoots up her nose. Ow, she's gonna look like shit later. Just what she needed.

“Right, if you say so, Mister Gentleman.” She said dryly, clearly not in the mood to be dealing with some possibly uptight rich guy.

“Emmrich.”

“What?”

“My name. My name is Emmrich.”

Rook stared up at Emmrich for a long moment. The name even sounded old.

“Rook.”

“Excellent, now if you please, Rook. Your nose needs tending too”

[the-666-news]

BREAKING NEWS!

Good evening, I’m Katie Killjoy!

And I’m Tom T—

Nobody gives a shit.

We’re here to report on all the hottest gossip of Hell, and maybe even Heaven or Earth. If we feel like it, who fucking knows? We’ll cover gossip from all over, including here!

And to answer questions that our viewers may have for us!

OOC:I have no association with Vivziepop or her characters, this is just an obsessed fan being bored and goofing off. Things will most likely be out of character at times, I’m just kinda having fun with this.

Feel free to dm me if you want me to reblog a specific drama!

Red Text—Katie Killjoy

Blue Text—Tom Trench

[[Double Bracket Text]]—Andy/Mod

Blog tags—

Blog Tag 🝮 “#the-666-news”

Ooc 🝮 “#Andy Gossips:Ooc Posts”

Original Posts 🝮 “#Breaking News:Original Posts”

Ask Answered 🝮 “#QNA:Asks”

Reblogs 🝮 “#Reporting:Reblogs”

Discord Screenshots 🝮 “#Reporting:Screenshots”

The AU world 🝮 “#The Hellaverse Discord AU”

Threads 🝮 “#Interviewing:Threads”

End of Thread 🝮 “#Interviews:End of Thread”

Katie Speaks 🝮 “#Katie Killjoy—Reporting”

Ton Speaks 🝮 “#Tom Trench—Reporting”

[[ I @ most of the people I’ve ever interacted with on any of my blogs below. If you wish to be added or removed, dm me]]

Mod:

@sockmanduckman

Morningstars:

@king--of--ducks (Same mod)

@lilith--morningst4r

@mcalastor

@charlie-morningstar666

@the-moth-ex-angel

@damian-morningstar

@headlessdeaddancer

@alyxdefoisnthere

Deadly Sins:

@mammon-money-maker (Same mod)

@featheryhoe

@beelzebubtheglutton

Royalty:

Overlords:

@gossip-sipper (Same mod)

@mcalastor

@mcvox

@xxsmilingdeerxx

@vox-tv-demon

@the-fourth-vee

Hellborn:

@yogirt-not-yogurt (same mod)

@ace-loves-josh (Same mod)

@josh-loves-ace

@its-chaz-time-3

Sinners:

@wiener-warrior (Same mod)

@the-original-dickmaster

@blue-gem-overlord

@bad-boy-lover

@nifftyhasaknife

@deadbeatbartender

Imps and Hellhounds:

@moxxies-wife (Same mod)

@wally-wackfords-wacky-blog (Same mod)

@the--country--imp

@fizzie-froggie

@fizzythefrog

@fizzy-jezter

Non Hell:

@ask-the-archs

@ask-pentious

@the-exterminator

@penguinmaster9999

[theveryconfusedartistsart-blog]

Then I have to ask. What were your favorite moments of the Spamton Value Network Spamoments. Spampose. May the hym of the angels sing thee to thy rest.

There is so much going on, so I'm just going to watch the first video and list random things I like.

Waaaayy more below 👇

I really enjoy the work they put into it to make it look like it's actually from the 90's.

I also genuinely like that they purposely made it awkward and poorly made (when it's not)

'SIGN UP & #$#% OFF - THAT'S OUR MOTTO'

'OUR BOYS IN BLUE' is...a mysterious blue egg, it will hatch in seconds, but when? And what will it become? Is it guaranteed to be a boy? How do they know it's going to be a boy? Is because it's blue? Is there multiple boys in the egg? Or is there multiple boy eggs?

The premature intros are very funny, I don't know why I find the intentional poor quality so funny.

'ALL POTENTIAL WINNERS ARE SUBJECT TO VERIFICATION' ...tells me so much and worries me even more, but also, how do I win and where can I get verified? (edit: I never will be)

BIG EXCITEMENT FOR 'THE PRIZES'! EVEN BIGGER EXCITEMENT FOR THE 'WILD PRIZES'!

The 'National Spamton' being the Happy Birthday tune- and the whole mess of him prematurely thinking it's over, the whole thing.

'ME DON'T KNOWS, AND ME DON'T CARES!' (adding that to my Discord status)

'PLEASE PAY 4.99 PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PL-'

"You'll soon forget which one's your real face," ...Oh..

'SPAMTON TOILET PAPER/ Retail: Used...sorry' =[

"Are you a single mother? No? Well you will be soon! :) This one's coming to your house! Whether you like it or not," this one is so wild, and IT'S FOR THE WORM. Truly the wildest of prizes and I'm afraid. I want to pray for Anonymous, who won it.

'WINNER OF "CONFLICT FREE" FAMILY PROGRAMMING OF THE YEAR 1992'

'DO NOT BLOW INTO THE NOZZLE'

(SPAMTON AFTER NOT SURVIVING)'Spreadable for easy snack'

'THAT'S NOT [Milk], IT'S [Sand]'

(They look comfortable)(?)

I legitimately would love a Cungadero Crossing sign.

'COOKIE OF BOY' ohhh, so this is what happens with the egg.

'His ass? Our ass? We are one.'

'POTASSIUM'

'"I'd love shove spamtin into a pasta maker and watch him oozing like sting cheese" 'WHAT THE [$#&*] IS WRONG WITH YOU'

CORPSE WINNER- Mettaton (He sure is one)

'OKAY, THAT'S WHAT I THINK MUSIC IS'

I'm glad the two spamton guys made up and got friendly.

'I'LL CRUSH MY TV FOR ITS HORRIBLE CRIMES! I DON'T NEED A TV ANYMORE!"

'Anxious attachment style' correct.

"YOUR BEST [$#&*]" HEART LOCKET / BELIEVE IN HIM /BEAST INSIDE 💖

'MR AND MRS AND" THROUPPLE CUTTING BOARD!!!! (should only be used to cut cheese, ONLY CHEESE!!' )

'For wet thing' 'Put a wet thing on it' 'Wet is gone' 'Comfort is here' 'Nesting material'

"OUCH OUCH OUCH MY FOOT IS WET!"

'Throw it on and [#$@#] OFF!'

"make sure it doesn't go to your spam folder (sigh),"

OH, HANG ON, PIPIS IS THE BOYS IN BLUE??? EGG???

Oh...we eat the boys in blue? Pipis...? They taste like fresh, apparently.

O, one is in fact a girl.

Can't fit all those pipis in your mouth, unfortunately.

"Or return it to your nearest hamburger restaurant."

Someone get Tony Fox some professional help.

"Spamton, play us on," *Silly whistle trick* 🤡

I need to go to bed, it's late, but oh my god, A REAL watch!

I wish to own the HOT MAMAS IN YOUR AREA REAL WINE GLASS 100% Replica, AND it comes with TWO KISSES??? What a steal.

"I can't believe we're allowed to show this on TV!" (I got curious about this one because it was blurred and found this and this)

"Spamto-! Spam-!"

'It's your chance! DO IT!!! From a loving bond that will last a lifetime. Absolute guarantee of trust and affection. May worry or leave (the ring?)

I'm a sucker for romance, so sign me up.

"Over the years, I've given you countless bleGH!-,"

"Don't put that in there," (the ring?) -OH! MY GOODNESS A BODY PILLOW.

The perfectly timed cut-off and rearranged part of 'YESSS!!"

"And here are our winners..... -_-"

This man crawling out of the sewer to not shame mankind, but to get some help from-. (he does not succeed)

[socialpants]

The world is on fire, here's what you can do

There are selected links at the end for further reading and i’ve drawn from some of them to make this post.

I want to emphasize that the way to go forward is to keep focusing on how you personally can empower yourself, and empower your communities. Because right now the Musk-Trump-Thiel coalition’s goal is to keep throwing shit at you to make you keel over in despair because it’s all so overwhelming, and to combat that despair, that overwhelm, you have to focus on what you can do:

1. Connect with your communities. You’re gonna have to talk to people. Not just people online, but people you know. Get to know more people. Create mutual aid communities. Brain storm together what skills and supplies can be shared. How needs can be met. I’m not advocating you don’t use government programs/help, I’m advocating preparing for situations where those may not exist. In fact, if you are using a government program/service, keep using it, no matter what the TV says about how some executive order shut it down. It’s not shut down until it’s legally shut down. Until the workers on location tell you it’s shut down. Keep using them. Do not comply in advance. Do not comply at all. Make them make you.

2. Skill up. Learn new skills that will help you and your communities, and teach the skills you have to others. This is the perfect opportunity to learn first aid, basic chemistry, fixing cars, how to organize or protest, how to preserve food, how to grow more, how to make fabrics and upcycle existing items, how to read law, how to hack a computer or a system. Learn alternative methods of keeping in contact over long distances. Practice good cyber security, drop those big social medias and get on federated ones. Switch to Mozilla and Linux. Learn a new foreign language. Take up some self-defence.

3. Use the internet with intent. Don’t doom scroll. It’s not going to help. You’re not getting good information even from “left wing” videos when they advertise their content with clickbait. Those videos will not help you. They’ll either make you feel despair, or they’ll give you a false sense of security that someone else, somewhere else, is already taking care of this, and you don’t have to do anything. It’ll be fine. That’s not a proactive state of mind. When you get online, have a goal what information you’re looking for or what you’re communicating, then get out. When you need your lil relaxation time, if you want to do that online, set a time limit. There are a lot of ad-ons you can use on browsers to do this if you don’t quite trust yourself yet.

4. Get involved in politics. Check who your local representatives are, and contact them. Press them on their stances and what they’re doing about them. Show up at town hall. Make flyers, make zines, make stickers. Hell, show up in your community meetings. These are the people you live with. They may not be perfect, but life is not perfect. We can still keep making it better all the time. We got from celebrating public dismemberment with horses to that being an abhorrent idea. Humans do develop for better. But we can’t do that alone, and we can’t do that passively. It’s a conscious, combined effort.

LINKS

For tracking what laws you should be keeping an eye out:

For keeping track of Trump BS:

Find out who your political key figures are on every level in your state: https://ballotpedia.org/Local_Politics

How to create a mutual aid network: https://afsc.org/news/how-create-mutual-aid-network

How to survive an oppressive government from an indigenous anarchist perspective (includes further links):

Some handy guides for no particular reason:

There's a fun video in this link: