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atopvisenyashill · 3 months ago

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any thoughts about how could it be the dynamic between viserys-naerys- daeron ii in fire & blood 2?

okay so straight up the dynamic i’m MOST interested in learning about in f&b2 is the viserys-naerys-daeron ii dynamic. first of all, those first two are just UNGODLY DISTURBINGLY YOUNG when they have children. viserys has naerys, his YOUNGEST child when he is sixteen. naerys has daeron when she is fifteen. viserys is a grandfather before he is 32 years old. it is truly babies raising babies out here!! i mean fuck, daeron has baelor under significantly less traumatic circumstances but he’s still only 17 by the time he starts having kids! that’s all just wildly interesting and disturbing to me. like, that alone, how close in age they all are because they all married & started having kids at crazy young ages, explains so much about why this period has always felt particularly deranged to me (“this period” being post dance where we get this incredible string of deranged freaks from aegon iii to aegon iv that ebbs into this vaguely “we��re having a targ renaissance yay” era that erupts into civil war anyways! i LOVE this conceptually i’m so ready to be annoyed when f&b2 comes out and i’ve hyped this all up for some more dumb sex stories from another court fool ajsjs).

but then secondly, okay, when you look at the timeline- daeron is born in 153 and the birth nearly kills naerys 15/16 year old naerys. aegon iii is still king for four more years. that last year, aegon iv spends his time (and the next two years after that) shacked up with megette. then aegon spends a few years shacked up/probably raping casella vaith the hostage, before running off to war. then he spends more time raping naerys, wherein she has a miscarriage, and aegon is sent away so he doesn’t rape her to death. daeron marries myriah, has a child with her. but before that child is two, in quick succession, his father comes back home & immediately starts raping his mother again, his mother nearly dies having twins & now he has a sister younger than his son, and daena unveils her new bastard who everyone thinks is aegon’s, and baelor is so distraught by all this he fasts himself to death. viserys is king, and likely dead before daeron’s second son is born and before daeron turns twenty. suddenly the person responsible for making sure aegon doesn’t rape naerys to death are daeron & aemon, who have NO authority over aegon. this man has the audacity to stay alive for twelve more years.

that shit is insane. daeron’s father is only around when he’s raping his mom. the closest things daeron has to a father figure are his uncle who wants to fuck his mom, his grandfather who is probably busy constantly (and also only in his thirties 😭), and his batshit insane cousin baelor. his childhood is marked by almost constant instability until it stabilizes for the worse when his cousins all get locked in the maidenvault, then gets thrown into upheaval once again as baelor & viserys die and now his dad who is only around when he’s raping his mom is suddenly back in town and has total control.

and naerys. she’s like if aemma lived long enough to parent her kids, but worse bc you could argue there was fondness of a sort between aemma & viserys. aegon and naerys hate each other. she is constantly pregnant and on death’s door from the age of fifteen (three years older than her father!) until the day she dies, in her early 40s. it sounds like worse than hell to me. it is a lifetime where the only source of comfort you have is the son you birthed at fifteen, because maybe your life is a nightmare but if you raise him to be marginally less evil, he won’t destroy the innocent little girl you know is going to be sent to court to be his wife. everyone else is actively holding you hostage and applauding you for taking the abuse so well. your whole life is screaming for help and all you get is tears telling you you’re so dutiful and brave.

and viserys just. watches it all happen. of course he does! his kids are simply ungrateful! he had to get married at twelve and his wife wasn’t born in westeros so they had nothing in common and at least they have a living father, they have no idea how lucky they are. why should daeron and naerys blame him when he gave them everything because he had nothing? it’s a shame it wasn’t naerys that offed this man. i do think she was his favorite kid tho and i bet he’s not subtle about it at all.

#like obviously we all know i have mixed feelings about the way they did nyra & ali’s ages but i do think the focus on how traumatic #forced child marriage & forced child-parenting is yet how NORMAL that suffering is. like THAT was a GREAT decision.#there’s so much crqzy shit cooking here i know it #and this isn’t even touching Being Naerys And Daeron When Aegon IV Is King.#asks #anons #viserys ii targaryen #naerys targaryen #daeron the good #also i don’t think naerys has a favorite child bc daeron & daenerys are like 18 years apart so she has very different relationships w them.#ntm she’s dead before daenerys is all that old.#if you asked daeron if public who his favorite dad is he will say baelor. but tbh #he thinks all of those guys were fucking morons. he will never claim a favorite child either.#but he definitely has one and he Has told myriah who his favorite is when they pillow talked one night.#they do Not have the same favorite child.#i would honestly love the idea of viserys plotting to kill aegon so daeron comes right after him but aegon just beats him to the punch.#i think that would be genuinely hilarious. i have no earthly idea how george is gonna characterize viserys as an adult tho.

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foolsocracy · 5 months ago

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I can't get the idea out of my head, so please consider; MJ invites Peter out along with some of her friends for dancing. Results may vary

ok this has been SITTING in my inbox. I was thinking about drawing something but ive caved and im just gonna talk.

YES. That girl can DANCE and she loves it!! I feel in the 19th and 20th century everyone could do a bit of social dancing because thats just what people did for fun. I think the Parkers and the Watsons both taught their kids to dance 'older' stuff they would have done when they were younger, like a solid waltz, quadrille, two-step, polka, what have you. MJ learned them all with fervor. Pete... learned some of them.

I think MJ and Pete would probably do (east coast) swing most often. Because they are hip and of the times. I think Pete probably would have had MJ and Robbie get to know each other through dance, actually. Like Robbie was around the welfare center when MJ was and Pete immediately was like Yes, now MJ can practice with him and not me (ultimate backfire because how he's got 2 partners)! Harlem is definitely the hot spot for swing, with black Americans engineering the whole thing. MJ was totally ecstatic to have a friend over there to run into who was a ready and willing partner!

I do have to say that MJ is a total back lead when it comes to Peter. They will ARGUE on the floor (in good fun). She'll be like 'do that one move I just taught you!' or 'If you fumble this texas tommy i'll kill you' or 'ok on this next backstep we're doing Charleston... aaand triple step, back step.' And Peter will snark back. Whenever she really wants to piss him off she'll make him practice Balboa (he thinks it looks stupid).

#Pete MJ and Rob can all lead and follow #MJ and Robbie cause they're good enough and have been dancing dedicatedly enough to learn #and Pete cause MJ wanted to learn to lead and she had one (1) person on hand #IDK if you can tell by the way I wrote this but uuhh..... I actually do swing dancing LMAO classic foolsocracy hobby #its really fun i recommend it guysss #I had one friend I used to dance w last year and we'd argue and boss each other around when we were partnered ITS FUNNN THAT WAY #Robbie's fave is lindy hop #MJ strikes me as a charlestoner #just so i can imagine her trying to teach peter tandem charleston LMAOO #or shag i think she'd LOVE SHAAGG #maybe i will draw this....#omfg robbie and mj would destroy shag together #making my own night just imagining......#mary jane watson #asks #anon #spider noir #marvel #Bowery Welfare Center holds social dance nights btw.................#because i say so #backlead means that MJ is the follower but bosses around her lead (peter parker)#sometimes i feel silly going to social dances cause im like look at this guy..... 1930s hobby for the 1930s spider noir blogger #[guy standing in the corner of a party meme] they dont even know i run a spider noir blog

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cordelialives · 5 months ago

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“just because you're sorry doesn't mean i have to forgive you” is something I’ve really been struggling with recently

Without getting too deep, someone did something to me last year and I still feel so angry about it and everyone has been telling me just forgive

But how am I supposed to forgive when it fucked me up so badly

So this was kind of the perfect time to read that thanks

it's been one of the hardest lessons i've had to learn, honestly. humans are empathetic creatures. it's hard for us to hate, honestly. you find yourself wanting to forgive people because it seems like the right thing to do when you're considering how they feel. but you don't owe anyone anything. not forgiveness. not anything. people can tell you that you'd be the bigger person if you just forgave them, or that you're bitter and cruel for not forgiving.

honestly, i think not forgiving someone gives you more peace than anything else. you can heal just as well without opening the wound and letting them rub salt in it.

maybe the dog that bit you will never bite again. maybe the dog that bit you can now love others as much as you should have been loved. it doesn't change the fact that their teeth are still embedded in your skin.

the best lesson you can teach someone is that not everything can be forgiven, both to an aggressor and a victim. the wound will heal either way, but at least now it won't burn when their eyes land on it.

#core responds #i hope you have a good night anon

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ray935sworld · 3 months ago

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Beznaia forcefully, please?

Sure thing! Thanks for the idea! So this was intresting to write. I hope you'll like how I wrote it, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. It got a little more possessive and jealous as I expect.

(Potential dub-con but everyone is happy about making out and consents to it so not actual dub-con. More lack of discussion) And allusions to NSFW content

"Satisfied" Marco Bezzecci x Pecco Bagnaia - forcefuly - 1.8k words

Sure. Pecco was definitely calm. He was known to be mostly calm and collected – if he wasn’t being irritated. There was no anger buzzing with the same rhythm as the loud music. Why would there be? He had won the championship for the 2nd time. His veins weren't flooded with frustration. He was the king of his sport, wasn’t he? No need for frustration when his holidays had only just started. His hand definitely hadn't gripped his drink just slightly tighter as he watched Bez basically being publicly fucked on a dance floor in Valencia.

Bez was dancing with good 5 centimetre space between them, a stranger. He looked like a local men, his body tanned and his hair black. He seemed to be around their age. Maybe older. And there was no denying that the other was very hot. He was taller than Bez, a little bulkier with handsome features.

Pecco continued to watch him while drinking his vodka. The alcohol burned his mouth. For some reason he had decided to keep it in just for a few seconds longer. He felt the drops burn his cheeks from the inside. He felt the heat radiate under his tongue. Then he swallowed.

He felt it ran down his throat. It felt like daggers stabbing him from the inside. Even his stomach felt like being ripped apart. He closed his eyes for a seconds and shacked himself to made the feeling go away.

He had done it. For the 2nd time. In a row. He had won motogp. He had won the 2023 titled and therefore reclaimed his victory from 2022. He had archived what they all - included Bez - wanted. He had fulfilled his childhood dream not once but twice.

And still he felt angry. Dissatisfied. There was a pinch in his chest that wouldn't go away, no matter how many wins he got. Even winning the championship by winning the race had done nothing to make it go away. He still wasn't happy.

It wasn't the same as last year. Last year he had felt like the king of the world. Last year he felt like he could do anything he would set his mind to. He had been undefeatable. He had felt like a winner . He had been fulfilled.

But something had changed. Something had changed him since last year.

Cause now he felt like he could only get a quarter if what he actually desired. When he found the second glass of vodka in his hands, he wondered why he had even bothered ordering lemon vodka. The stuff tasted all the same to him. Maybe some people could taste a difference. But he couldn’t and he didn’t really care.

It was way past 2am. Maybe even 3... Or 4? He had lost track of time. At some point Vale had insisted he should stop drinking. He did. For a few hours. He had water and lemonade and cola - more than he ever did in his life. But nothing seemed to help. Not even when he and Bez, Vale, Luca and some of his friends had taken a midnight McDonald's break when changing clubs. The feeling stayed in his veins.

He hold the liquor in his hand as he watched Marco. His dark brown curls were shaking. He was throwing his head back, his neck exposed. The skin looked soft. Perfect to place a hickey there. It’d be a shame not to. He saw the sweat reflecting the damp light of the club. He felt his blood shoot up.

Yeah… He wanted to know how the Italian would taste. He wanted to know what his naked skin would feel like if he sucked it enough to create a violet colouring and present the world the evidence of what they had done together. He wanted to make him sweat like that.

He watched his best friends smiling about having the hands of another man around his neck. Seeing the scene unfold as careless as right now, made the unplaceable feeling in his body grow. He was angry. On the day - or night - of his 2nd MotoGP championship, his 3rd overall, all he felt was rage. And he hated it. Shouldn’t this be a great night? One of the few when he could get it all.

But he didn’t had it all. He fucking didn’t. Because he wanted Bez. There was no denying it anymore. He had decided on him. Maybe it had happened today or last year. Or maybe when he had cursed himself as a teenager for having a crush on the new boy in the academy and he had promised himself that it wasn’t love, just a friendly adoration for the newcomer.

Instead of him, that fucking stranger had what he wanted. Why even him? If it'd be Cele, he wouldn't feel this way. Pecco was sure about that. He had seen the two friends flirt many times and dance together. As friends. But this stranger? He could smell his attention from over here and he wouldn’t let him get away with it.

He felt the glass on his lips. The burning sensation that hadn't really left, returned. He drank again.

Then he saw Bez putting his hand on the other man's cheek. And he lost it. With a loud stomp he smashed the glass on the table. He stood up, paying the bartender who gave him a judge look. She obviously wasn't a fan of the way he treated her glasses. As a silent apology he gave her an extra tip. She hadn't done anything after all.

Then he went for Marco. All the anger, all the emotion took form. The rage in his eyes were unmatched. He went straight for the curly hair rider.

Bez spotted him before he even approached him. He gave him a short smile but his hand continued to rest on the other man's hip.

„Please excuse us" Francesco hissed at the stranger, giving him an angry look. He hoped to shoot him a clear message as he forcefully took Bez hand - the one that had rested on the other man's hip.

He pressed himself between the two as he pulled the younger rider towards the other side. As he did he whispered an audible „Bastardo" to the man. Just for good measure. He had to make sure he wouldn't try that again.

He felt Bez tugging at his hand. „Pecco!" For a moment the Italian felt like he was being scolded. Marco had apparently heard the insult and was now a little too hesitant to follow the other for his liking.

He turned around to see Bez look at him questionably. „We need to talk. Now." he hissed against the loud music. Before the other could answer, their fingers let go of each other and he instead felt Peccos arm around his lower back. He was basically now pressed towards the other side of the dance floor.

Bez decided to obey. Mainly cause he was curious what was going on in Pecco's drunk head and cause he didn't want to annoy anyone around them.

Like that, they went towards the exit.

They left the club and Bez felt the coldness of the Spanish night hit him. He smiled, happy to get some fresh air in his drunk mind. He was still able to think enough but he felt tipsy.

Pecco on the other hand only felt one thing. Hate. Desire. Anger and love. Admiration and rejection. Everything was mixed in his body and he was unable to tell one from the other.

Before he could stop himself, he acted. He grabbed his best friend by the waist and pushed him back. He pushed him against the wall of the club and placed his hands on his shoulders. He felt his muscles. He felt how tense his whole body suddenly was.

If he had been sober enough he would have realized that it's a sign of fear. But he wasn't sober enough. Instead he just realized that this might be the only chance he ever got.

His other hand caught Bez chin. He hold it up, making him look at him. There was a weird look on Marcos face. Confusion. Fear. Maybe a hint of arousal. All in one. Not that a drunk Pecco had the brain capacity to realize that.

Instead he just kissed him.

He pressed his lips against Bez. For a moment he felt the other move his body. Without hesitation he fixated the younger one more against the cold stones. His frustration was boiling to the top. He was so close to finally getting what he wanted. He wouldn't let him slip away now.

There was a roughness as he moved quickly and demanding. He stepped even closer, close enough for their whole body to touch as he adjusted the other's jar slightly.

He had a new angle that gave him more access to those plumb and full lips that had started to move according to him. In a way he wished. He could make them move like he wanted. It wouldn’t even be complicated.

Marco has just obeyed. He had accepted being taken like that. And when he did, when Pecco forcefully kissed his best friend like they would both die any seconds, he moaned quietly against him.

Fransceso took that as an encouragement. He was determined to get that sound out his best friend once more. But more intense. More desperate. More everything. He needed it. He wanted to make him feel the same rage and frustration he had felt the whole evening.

And he started at his mouth.

All it took for Pecco to get full access was to slightly open his mouth and Marco did the same. He groaned as he felt the other ones tongue against his own. He had always thought a kiss like that might be weird, even disgusting but this feeling was nothing like that. It was everything. It was full and made him feel powerful.

He couldn’t help but wonder what that mouth might feel like if explored. Marcos breath was already hot. His whole mouth must be as well. His mouth must feel hot and wet, reaching perfection with his skilful tongue. He needed that mouth around a certain part of his anatomy. As fast as possible.

Then he let go of Marco. Both men were breathing heavily, trying to catch their breath after being unable to gain new oxygen for some time.

They shared a look. Both unable to really react. Both unsure what to say. So instead, Marco rested his forehead against Pecco's head.

„That was hot" he whispered. „You wanna continue, bello?"

Pecco let out a laugh he hadn’t noticed he was holding in as his arms found their way around Marcos waist. The hate was gone. The anger had disappeared. The knot in his stomach had been uncurled. He felt satisfied. Well… Almost.

„You really think I want to stop now?"

But he knew there was a way to make him fully satisfied.

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