#honestly wish i hadn't tipped her

[rubenesque-as-fuck]

Absolutely hate that the only hair thing I can trust to other people at this point is a bang trim and even that is a huge hit-or-miss experience every. Goddamned. Time. I understand that it is not a big ticket service but sometimes I luck out and get someone who still gives a shit and takes time to make sure the cut is even but sometimes I get someone who is trying to shove me out of the chair as quickly as possible and I end up having to spend a long time at home with scissors afterwards trying to get it to look even mildly presentable (and usually end up fucking it up in some respect)

[uncanny-tranny]

I love giving advice, apparently, so if you are a newly pierced person or are planning on being pierced, here are some of the things I found helpful, as somebody who isn't a professional piercer but has had six plus piercings on my face and body, and multiple ear piercings (which I don't count, since I DIY'd them):

Normal bath towels are your enemy, proceed with caution after bathing. NEVER wipe moisture away from a fresh piercing, always pat it dry

You will hit a new piercing and it will hurt. This is inevitable, just know that you likely haven't destroyed it. Feel free to cry, though, it hurts like hell.

If your piercer gives you instructions, heed them. If you're on restrictions, please take it as seriously as possible

When you're going in for a piercing, please eat or drink something - at least what constitutes as a snack for your body. It really helps

If you're getting an oral piercing, make sure you size down after the healing period - I hadn't sized down for my last oral piercing when I first had the chance, and it was... so annoying to have too-large of jewelry

Not all jewelry is made equally. Do your research on materials, threading, and sizing. I've found that titanium jewelry is really nice for me, and I like it, but that isn't the only option. Make sure you think about your body and its needs and preferences

Close your eyes while being pierced (I found this really helps me)

Don't over-clean a new piercing, twice per day is usually a good place to start

The completed healing period is a very average suggestion - you may heal slower or faster. Try to adhere to that suggestion, though, especially if you do not feel you're healed enough

Personally, I have found that I am completely healed when my piercing feels like just another part of my body, even when it is touched. When my piercings start to feel as though they are foreign when they never do before, I know I likely need to clean them

While I have DIY'd piercings, I personally do not recommend it, especially if you are either not using sterilized equipment, or are piercing a very dangerous place (like the tongue). If you are absolutely positive about committing to the DIY mindset, please try to do due diligence in research at least

Tip your piercer. Body mods are a luxury service, and it takes years to even become a piercer, much less to be proficient at it. Tip your piercer, ESPECIALLY if their prices feel too good to be true - they likely are. Unless you are directed otherwise by your piercer, just assume that you will be tipping them for their services and budget accordingly

Make sure you understand how your piercer wants you to take care of your piercing, and ask questions. There is no question too "dumb"

If you are getting a body part pierced you are insecure about, realize your piercer has most likely seen HUNDREDS of different body parts of various sizes, shapes, and oddities. Your body is not uniquely bad, nor would a good piercer make you feel unwelcome or uncomfortable with your body. If they do, however, DO NOT go through with the piercing. You should feel safe being pierced by somebody, and, indeed, that is the bare minimum.

If you use saline wash to clean piercings, you can DIY it. You will go through NeilMed like no other, and with it being $5USD a bottle, that price can rack up quickly. Make sure you use distilled water and non-iodized salt, though

If your piercing is infected, please don't be too ashamed to seek help. It's in your best interest to make sure you don't get ill or your site gets nasty ("nasty" as in painful)

These are just some of the things I've learned being a pierced person! My piercings are something I absolutely needed, and I do not for a minute regret having them. I want that same happiness to befall you, and that happens when you are able to understand a bit more what goes into piercings. You are, essentially, getting a new body part installed by a pro, and so I don't want you to not be ready for that.

Again, I am not a professional piercer, but am rather a body piercing enthusiast with many different types of piercings. I don't have every piercing, though, so please look at this critically for the piercing(s) that you want or have. At least, treat this like a soft suggestion or ways to help you brainstorm what you will find helpful.

More tips are obviously welcomed, especially if you yourself have more insight or expertise. Good luck to every pierced person or future pierced person reading this💛

[mxtantrights]

day court!reader barges in on a meeting with the inner circle

Your day was just beginning but you have had enough.

Not only did you wake up this morning in some random male's bed after a bad late night tryst, he had the nerve to kick you out because he was not in fact single. His girlfriend came back by the time you managed to flee through the back door.

On top of that, you were hungry. You hadn't eaten since last night, when you picked up the lying male at the bar. He offered to make you food at his place but one thing led to another, and you two ended up in bed. And you were the one left unsatisfied, tired, and hangry. So you tried to sleep it off.

So you walked through the city in your clothes from last night. Gaining a bit of looks, but honestly it wasn't that uncommon for other fae to do the walk of shame. It wouldn't be your first, but you prayed to the mother it would be your last.

When you finally got to the palace you found out you missed an important meeting because someone moved it a day forward. That someone being Helion. And that seemed to irk you a bit more than anything else. Or maybe it was the tipping point.

That is why you are stomping to the visitors room. One of the palace guards said he was in there with guests, but you didn't really care about the guests part. You just cared that he was in a location you could get to.

Once you reach the door you swing the door open. He's seated at the table with three others. A male, and two females. You didn't really take them into account because you were too ticked off to do so.

"Helion, do you wish to tell me why the meeting on creating new positions in the court was pushed to today?" you ask.

Helion smirks, "I'm entertaining guests."

"You can entertain all you want, but you'll answer my question first." you answer.

Helion shrugs his shoulders.

"I wanted to free tomorrow up for you." he answers simply.

You stand there in silence. He wanted to free up your day for tomorrow? Why would he want you to be free? Actually, back to the meeting, why would he not tell you that the was moving it?

"You could have told me about this plan." you say.

Helions nods, "I could have, but then I would have ruined your night out. Tell me, was he any good?"

You suppose most family members don't talk about such intimate acts with each other. Too taboo. But you and Helion aren't like most. For the first ten years of your life he didn't even know you existed. And then everything happened and you ended up under his care.

Helion isn't a regular parent by any means. But he tried, for you.

And you guess, this is him trying now too.

You sigh, "No. It was completely uneventful, which is why I was on my way here to have food and prepare for the meeting."

"Food? I have tons of that, take a seat." Helion holds his hand out for you to take a seat.

It's then, and only then, that you take a look at who he is supposed to be entraining. The first female, the high lady of the night court. Your eyes widen as you take her in. And beside her is another habitant of night court. The blonde warrior, Morrigan. And then there is the male. Wings and shadows. Spymaster.

You take an apprehensive step back, "Actually, I should let you entertain your guests. I can speak to you later about this."

"No please, this was the most interesting thing I've heard all morning." the blonde one, Morrigan, says.

"What she means is, we were getting nowhere with our discussion. You can join us if you like." the high lady says.

You toss a look over to Helion. He nods at you. You decide to take the plunge and sit at the table, right in front of the high lady. Feyre. That's her name.

You reach for one of the glass lutes of fruit juice. You raise the glass to your lips and take a long sip. You sometimes needed to read the room and shut your mouth. This is one of those times.

"I don't think you introduced yourself, this is my stability ambassador and hopefully, the next day court liaison." Helion says.

You almost choke on the juice.

[mt-oe]

'𝓓𝓲 𝓷𝓪 𝓶𝓾𝓵𝓲—mizu x reader

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dears!

Recently, I've been into a Filipino song about wishing they hadn't taken their time together with their love for granted and wishing they had told their significant other how they felt

And thought, eyyy this would make a good angst fic

It's such a sad song and I honestly hope you can listen to it too. Just enjoy the melody, feel the emotion of the song even if you can't understand the lyrics.

Enjoy! Mwa mwa :*

warnings: not proofread, character death, angst, implied afab reader, she/her for mizu but will use he/him at times

Nung araw kay tamis ng ating buhay Puno ng saya at ng kulay 'Di mauulit muli Ang oras kapag hinayaang lumipas Madarama mo hanggang bukas 'Di mababawi muli

Mizu did not know what had gone over her. She had met you on her way to Kyoto in search for the Shindo dojo. You had approached her, thinking she was a man, hoping she'd help you enter the city.

"Here's half the money I have saved for this trip," you mumbled to her, looking around to see if there was anyone watching before giving her doe eyes. "Please...Just 'til the entrance.."

A sigh escaped her lips as she watched you. You ticked her off for sure, but she couldn't help but take pity in your situation. She could see the blisters on your feet, the paleness of your lips, and the worry in your eyes.

You needed to get into Kyoto to buy herbs for your medicine. A kind married couple used to do it for you before. However, they had unfortunately died from an ambush. Now, you were left to fetch it for yourself.

It took you days to reach Kyoto. The journey was harsh, physically and mentally, to someone who was sick. However, now your goal was deterred by the simple idea of you being a woman traveling alone. Your health was at risk, just because you were a woman.

Truly, the world, despite being created by the bosom of a woman, was harsh to its creator.

Mizu sighed before letting out a grunt. She took the coins from your hands before keeping it safe within the confines of her cloak. "Until the entrance only," she said in a low voice, bringing a smile to your face.

Now, she was watching you as you grilled a salt-covered fish you had skewered over the fire, back turned to her.

You had been traveling with them for quite some time now, from Kyoto to Mihonoseki to Kohama.

Along the journey, she discovered many things about you. From your favorite tea, your favorite sweets, your hobbies, and even your sickness. She had also learned that you were good at sewing, repairing her kimono after fights and even learning how to stitch her wounds shut.

Similarly, though it was difficult for Mizu, you had learned quite a lot about her as well. You learned about how she learned how to fight, where she got her sword from, and even her mission for revenge.

It was such a big feat for both of you, to learn and be learned about.

The feeling of having someone cook food for her was odd. She was used to not eating for days, eating only a few to save rations. But when you joined them, she always woke up to the sight of you and Ringo chatting and exchanging cooking tips over the fire. When they reached Kohama, she would sometimes see you help Eiji polish the blades, smiling sheepishly whenever he smacked you for using the wrong whetstone.

"It's done!" You removed the fish from the makeshift grill you had made over the fire before placing it over a large leaf you had washed. Slowly, you blew over the food before handing it to Mizu who watched you with an unreadable expression before glancing at the food.

Food was not something she necessarily appreciated. It was nothing more than sustenance for her. Something to keep her alive while she was on her mission for revenge. Now, it was something she looked forward to everyday.

Without a word, she ate the food slowly, picking the soft flesh off of the bone carefully with her chopsticks. Her eyes occasionally glanced at you, watching as you looked up at the sky, taking a breather after cooking.

"I wish the sun would come out," you mumbled, pouting slightly. You shivered slightly, pulling your kosode close. "After all this is over, let's settle down somewhere warm. Where the sun is always shining."

She raised an eyebrow at your words, swallowing her food before replying. She didn't really expect you to have such an adorable dream. "That's ridiculous. Kohama is warm enough."

You glared at her playfully before staring up at the clouds again. "It's not ridiculous! I just...the snow makes everything so cold and it feels so depressing!" you whined softly, making her snort a little.

The idea of settling down somewhere warmer didn't seem so bad.

Maybe you were right.

Maybe, after all of this was over, she could build a small hut with you in her home town. A small hut by the beach so she could see you smile whenever you watched the sun set so that this wretched place could have at least one good thing about it.

"You're laughing," you teased, turning to face her slightly. Mizu gave you a shrug, a slight smile still on her face. "Maybe your idea was silly enough to make me laugh."

"It isn't!"

Ang dami daming bagay na hindi naman kailangan Kung pwede lang bawasan natin ang mga tampuhan Hindi mo lang alam, hindi mo ba nararanasan? Kahapon sana natin, 'di mo na pinahirapan

"What do you mean you're not killing him?" you asked, eyes narrowing at Mizu.

Edo was burning.

The largest city in the world burning.

And the culprit was right before your eyes.

She narrowed her eyes equally at you, looking at your disheveled form. Soot covered you from head-to-toe. Your clothes were tattered and the kaiken she gave you was bloody, presumably from the blood of Heiji's allies. A sigh escaped her lips as she read your stern expression.

"I don't need to explain myself to you. Move." She dragged Fowler's body, trying to get past you before you pointed your blade at both of them, taking her by surprise. "I'm not moving until I see him dead, Mizu. Isn't that what we came here for? Or have you gone soft?"

Mizu glared at you, gritting her teeth. Her body was too injured to fight you, especially when she was still dragging Fowler's unconscious body.

She knew there was no way around you.

"I have not gone soft," she scowled, continuing to glare at you. It was clear in her deep blue eyes that she was conflicted. "The rest of the white men I'm hunting are in another land. I need Fowler to track them."

Your eyes widened at her, lowering your blade slightly. "Another land?"

She nodded before her eyes softened, watching as your expression changed from anger to distraught. "London," she mumbled, not having the strength to say it louder.

The pain in your face was unbearable. It was as if the sky had fallen and your world had ended. The way you dropped your blade, approaching her with the most shattered expression she had seen on anyone's face, and the way you grabbed her shoulders almost desperately.

"Y-You can't be fucking serious? You're going to London? Where the fuck is that even?" you asked, shaking her slightly, your voice almost sounded like you were going hysterical. She couldn't even look you in the eyes. "It's a mission I have sworn myself to."

You let go of her, tears pricking your eyes as you resisted the urge to cry.

Patawad muli, 'di na muli

"Then go."

She watched you as you took a few hesitant steps back, glaring at her. "Go and leave us," you scowled, masking the pain you felt with anger.

Mizu couldn't help but feel guilty. After everything the two of you had gone through, she was going to leave you as if you were just a moment to her. With a slight grunt, she lifted Fowler's weight and trudged past you, never looking back.

She had nothing to feel bad about, she tried convincing herself. You were aware that she had already sworn herself to revenge and there would be nothing stopping her.

Not even love?

Yeah.

Not even love.

Ang oras kapag hinayaang lumipas Madarama mo hanggang bukas 'Di mababawi muli

"He's dead."

Your own lies echoed through your mind, the devastated look on Ringo and Eiji's face plastered in your memory.

Yet here you were, crouching behind some wooden crates, eyes watching Mizu as she stood on the dock. A bittersweet feeling arising in your throat.

She was gone. With all the memories the two of you made.

You wanted to run up to her, to try and stop her, to tell her to just kill Fowler and stay with you; but you couldn't. You knew that Mizu was already dead set in getting her revenge and nothing but death could stop her.

Death?

Maybe that was where she was heading. Maybe that was when you'll meet again.

With deep exhale, you continued to watch as Mizu boarded the ship. The crew on board watched with a nervous expression, seeing her blue eyes. The same blue eyes you grew to love.

You stood up, getting ready to leave, until you accidentally let out a loud cough. The severity of your sickness catching up to you. Your hands immediately covered your mouth as you attempted to muffle the sound. Once you looked back at the boat Mizu was on, your heart skipped.

She was looking at you.

Staring at you with the same sadness you held before walking towards the front portion of the ship.

Once the ropes were released, the crew began to row, moving the boat forward until it was nothing but a small speck at a distance. You couldn't help but gulp, the lump forming in your throat.

"Goodbye, Mizu."

At natapos ang himas ng sandali 'Di kukubli aking tinig Nang lumipas na't 'di man lang nasabi Salamat hanggang sa muli

It had been a while since she had been in Kohama—who the hell are we kidding? It's been years.

Mizu had just returned from foreign lands, now at peace after accomplishing her revenge. The times definitely changed her. Her hair had grown longer and the scars on her body increased, maybe even doubled, from the last time. She was a bit more well-built than when she left and the fatigue from all the battles she had gone through were visible in her eyes.

She walked around the village, amazed at the changes it had gone through in just a couple of years. The once almost deserted fishery, now lively with people from different places.

Old huts were replaced by newer houses. The bums who drank their lives off on the streets were now gone, replaced by vendors advertising their recent catch.

However, despite the numerous leisurely activities around her, she continued to walk in a direction that was familiar to her more than anyone.

At a distance, Eiji's forge could be seen along with Ringo's figure, pushing a wagon inside the fenced property.

Mizu smiled slightly, feet picking up the pace until she was running. Ringo's eyes widened as he saw a familiar figure running towards his direction, making him drop the handles of the wagon. "Master?" he called out in a questioning tone, unable to believe his eyes.

Once Mizu was in front of him, his eyes widened further and a big smile appeared on his face. "I can't believe this!" he exclaimed, slowly approaching Mizu.

"I thought you were de—" "Where is she?"

A confused expression was painted on Ringo's face as Mizu cut him off. His eyebrows knitted for a moment as he thought of who his master could have been searching for before he was smacked at the back of his head with a pair of tongs. "You are quite impatient for someone who has risen from the dead."

Her eyes followed the length of the tongs before her smile widened as she saw her sword father who had now grown more feeble. "I apolog—"

"Do not apologize to me, child. Apologize to her." Eiji cut Mizu off, turning his head towards the direction her voice. "She has been waiting for your return. Go to the cliffs near the shore. That's where she resides now."

Mizu sighed in relief when she found where you currently were. As she was about to leave, she was smacked on the back of her head with the same iron tongs. "And do not forget to forge your sword. We will be waiting for you."

And with that, Mizu ran to the cliffs, searching for you.

Binawi buhay mo nang walang sabi Binubulong ko sa sarili Mahal kita hanggang sa huli

She ran and ran as fast as she could, ignoring the burning in her calves. The sound of the waves grew louder and louder with every step she took, making the excitement in her burn more and more.

It was warm. It was warm like how you always wanted it to be. As she finally reached the clearing, the sun shone in her eyes, blinding her a bit. She covered her eyes with her forearms, taking a deep breathe.

What would you say once you saw her? Will you smile? Will you cry? Will you run up to her and envelope her in your arms? Will you curse at her for leaving you?

Taking one last deep breathe, she uncovered her eyes, adjusting to the brightness. She blinked for a moment before looking at the edge of the cliff.

There was no hut, no sign of anyone living there, and most of all, you weren't there either.

What could be found there, however, was a sword. It's blade planted on the ground, a piece of fabric tied to the hilt.

Mizu approached the sword, clearly confused. She looked around her surroundings before her eyes landed on the fabric tied to the hilt of the blade. Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to remember where she saw the familiar pattern.

"Wait..." she mumbled to herself before her heart stopped.

It was your kimono.

The fabric, the pattern was from your kimono.

She fell to her knees as the realization sunk into her. You were gone. Gone forever.

It was as if the universe had decided that her hardships weren't enough and decided to take away the person she loves the most.

Her eyes continued to stare at the blade in front of her before a shaky exhale left her lips, tears finally falling from her eyes. "I'm sorry..." she sobbed out, hands balling into fists. "Fuck...I made you wait too damn long, didn't I?"

She wanted to scream, to tear her soul out, to vomit. How could she have been so stupid? She knew you were sick, but she didn't know how much time you had left and...and...fucking shit she didn't know.

What could she do? Beg god to bring you back?

Tears continued to stream down her eyes as she looked at the ground, forehead resting on the fabric at the hilt of the sword. She had never felt this way before. To cry until she couldn't speak, to cry until she felt too weak to stand.

You must've been so lonely, she thought. The image of your distraught face in Edo and before she left appeared in her mind again, now imprinting itself to her conscience.

She saw the way you looked at her when she departed. It was gut-wrenching and now, she was paying the consequences of her own rage-driven decisions.

She looked at the fabric of your kimono before resting her forehead against it again. "I...I love you..." she whispered before gritting her teeth. "I'm so stupid I should have said that before."

After taking a moment to grieve, she stood up and looked over the cliff. The sunset was beautiful. Just like you. Maybe if she had just gone home a bit earlier, she would've been able to see both.

Mahal ko hanggang sa huli

With a sad look in her eyes, Mizu stared at the sword again before giving a melancholic smile. At least you were able to rest some where warm.

"I love you...Let's meet again some day."

Mahal ko hanggang sa huli

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Twenty-Nine

Masterlist of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: Thank y'all so much for your patience! I apologize that the chapter is up late. Life has been bonkers lately, but I'm relieved and happy with this chapter. I honestly can't believe I've been writing this story for a year. Thank you so much for sticking with me through those who have joined along the way and those who are reading in real time! This will be the last mildly angsty chapter, so be prepared. ;)

Chapter Warnings: Larys Strong, subby Aegon, a wiki of ice and fire is my only source of info here, sexual harassment. 

"I have given everything and received scraps in return and you expect no fury?" - T.J. Pen, A Woman Scorned.

"This simply cannot be," Queen Alicent said to the slumped man before her, picking at her emerald dress sleeves and gnawing her plump lip.

The Queen was in a chaotic state. Her loose chestnut hair cascaded in a waterfall of waves, the tips dusting her delicate waist. She hadn't changed from the high-necked gown she wore to the petition. There wasn't a moment to herself since the promises of her old friend, immediately heading to care for the King as any dutiful wife under the Seven would.

The collar constricted Alicent's throat as she swallowed, pulling at the fabric to steady her breathing. "My son," she stuttered, mind reeling, "my son has fathered bastards in the slums of Flea Bottom, and now he beds one. This cannot be."

Lord Larys stared into the disarranged Queen, the whites of her nails non-existent as he leaned onto his able side, thumb absentmindedly stroking the ornate firefly head of his cane. The Strong Lord was unperturbed by his ally's abrupt appearance at the hour of the owl. He would never turn away his Queen when she was in need.

"You surely cannot be so shocked, Your Grace," he expressed, dark brow lowered. "She is born of sin, her Mother a whore. 'Tis in her blood."

Alicent was unsure of how to respond. She couldn't deny your heritage. Larys' words were correct. You were born out of a harlot's womb, of a sinner's seed. Your existence stained the Targaryen legacy, a shadow in the Seven's divine light. She advised the King that the first legitimization of a bastard would tear the kingdom's order apart and ruin years of established precedent, but he would not listen. The Queen should've known. It was not her place. The man named a woman the heir to the Iron Throne.

"He is my son. I only wish to see the best in him. I have turned a blind eye to his," Alicent paused, tucking her plush lips into her teeth, "disgraceful actions, but Prince Daemon's child... his favorite daughter."

"The young Princess has made herself a hearth in the Keep, Your Grace. She sees herself as above her station. My spiders have told me whispers of what occupies her time as of late."

Lord Larys leaned across the foot table that separated him from the Queen before pulling back, swiping his pink tongue to wet his mouth. Alicent mirrored his movements, an invisible string tethering her to the Master of Whispers. "Please, Lord Strong, speak freely."

The mousy-faced man smiled, his countenance flickering in the dim candlelight. "I do not wish to spread ill of the Princess, Your Grace. I am a man of honor, but what my spiders have said..."

The Queen's doe eyes widened in concern as her brows furrowed. She did not care about the events of the past. Larys was not the honorable man he claimed, but her mind's dark fantasies blinded her from any reason.

"The Princess sends ravens to her Father divulging private Council matters, she sharpens her blade with bodies, 'tis only a matter of time until the King passes and Princess Rhaenyra is crowned." The taste of copper flooded Alicent's tongue, the tang nearly choking her. "The girl is a pawn for her Father and Rhaenyra plans to make her the Hand. What do you imagine will happen when Aegon's mere existence seeks to undermine her claim?"

The Queen's spine straightened, her fingers pulling at the loose skin of her nail. "You believe she will kill Aegon if Daemon asks it of her?" Her Father's words from decades ago echoed in her ears, her expression becoming horror. "Rhaenyra would never allow that to happen."

"Do you believe it will be a queen manning the helm or that of a Rogue Prince?" Larys inquired with the quirk of an unruly brow.

He knew what he was doing—the Master of Whispers at work.

"She-she promised to return on dragonback. We were companions once..." Alicent trailed off, tears beginning to collect at her lash line as her head fell to her lap.

They were friends. They sat underneath the Heart Tree as girls, read stories together, and dreamed together. Was that only a memory now? Was the past so truly lost between them?

"That is only my thoughts on the matter, Your Grace, since you wished to hear them," the Strong Lord replied, his thumb returning the fidgeting on the metal firefly. "I believe it was a fair exchange on advice, my Queen."

The Queen's gaze shot up, making contact with the Lord's. She knew what he meant, what he wanted. Larys desired the same outcome as all men do. It wasn't reasonable for her to think this time would be different. He would not offer help out of the goodness of his heart. Alicent realized no man ever would.

"Of course," the young Queen stared, not accepting or denying, simply speaking.

She gathered the hem of her emerald dress, the golden pointed star of the Seven glinting in the candlelight. A necklace that once comforted her now only brought her shame as Alicent untied her white stockings.

***

The wall opened as you listened to the scratch of your quill drags across the parchment to your Father. You didn't need to look to see who it was; only one person entered through the secret passageways of Maegor's Holdfast.

"My darling," you sang, keeping your gaze locked on the final loops of the letters, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Aegon didn't answer, his footfalls light as he sauntered to your desk. You only raised an eyebrow in response, focused on the task.

"Oh, simply nothing, little Princess. I just overheard my Mother and Grandfather speaking of how I should be king." That piqued your interest, your hand halting its movements. "You hear a lot of things through these walls," he teased, bending at the knee to speak closer into your ear, "many things."

You placed the dry feather back into its inkpot as you turned to face the beaming Prince with a neutral expression. "Your elder sister is to be Queen," you declared factually.

"Well, yes," he grinned, taking a few strides away from you. "That's what my Father has decreed, but that was before he had a son."

Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms, observing Aegon as he glanced back to ensure you were still paying attention. "Tis merely a thought, my sweet. Nothing more."

He flopped onto your made bed with a huff; his arms spread wide into a cross. Deciding to take the bait, you stood, crossing over to where he lay as you sat beside him, palm resting on his thigh.

"A fool is still a fool even when dressed in the King's robes."

Aegon scoffed, lifting his head as you saw his cock stir beneath his breeches. He liked this, the game of back and forth. It caused a thrum in his veins. "That was not kind of you, little one. I ought to punish you for it."

You raised your brows as you tilted your head to the side. "Punish me?" you repeated with a light-hearted sneer. "It should be you. What you say is treason."

"Perhaps," the Prince needled with a mischievous lilt to his tone. "Or I am simply stating what the realm is thinking. You truly believe a woman can ascend the Iron Throne?"

Your nails dug into his thigh at the insult, nearly piercing through the fabric and making crescent indents on the skin. Aegon hollered in protest as he sat upright in an attempt to remove you, your hand snaking from his leg to his crotch, gripping his hardening shaft meanly.

"Now, who put those ideas into that thick little head of yours, Aegon?" you jeered and moved to straddle his thigh. "Was it indeed from eavesdropping?"

His breath audibly hitched, the notch nestled within his throat bobbing as he watched you meticulously unlace his trousers. The Prince's lip tucked itself between his teeth as you revealed his half-hard cock, lazily stroking the thick shaft to its full height. The pearlescent liquid slowly began to leak from the tip; unable to stop your tongue from poking out and licking it, Aegon released a groan.

"I asked you a question, dull boy. 'Tis rude not to answer," you taunted from below, your chin resting on his pelvis as you peered up at him.

Aegon's legs bowed under your strokes as his hips lifted slightly from the mattress. The poor thing couldn't handle your feather-light touches to his sensitive cock, fingers dragging up his blue-green veins. His head tilted back as the wet flesh of your tongue licked across the tip once more.

Something wicked came to mind as you saw the Prince bite his lip, brows pinched together, and cheeks tinged pink from the attention. He was inside his body, his mind entirely caught in his feelings. He did not see your cruel grin as you sat upright, shifting your weight off him.

"Since you are so keen on the idea of ruling the Seven Kingdoms, there is no need for me anymore," you declared flippantly.

Aegon righted himself faster than you had ever seen, the throbbing between both your legs forgotten as his face fell in confused desperation. He looked so helpless in that moment, slouched, arms between his thighs as his manhood twitched angrily. It was almost enough to make you fold, but not quite. You needed to do this for the kingdom to stop a civil war before it happened and for yourself.

You were now uncertain if the time came for battle; you could carry the executioner's blade to the eldest son. And if you could not enact justice, you feared what Aegon would become. There would be no guiding light and only unlimited power at his grasp. You understood that now he had a taste of your love, the sweet nectar that ran through your veins. He would stop at nothing to have it always.

"Well, since you are to become king I believe you will not need me anymore," you repeated with an airy finality in your voice. Aegon observed with horror across his features as you went to the door of your chambers. "You'll have your pick of the finest whores in the Seven Kingdoms, and an army of willing maidservants at your disposal. What use am I to you now?"

Your fingers danced over the brass handle as you listened for the rustling of sheets and hurried footfalls. It was wrong of you to toy with Aegon this way, yet it didn't weigh on your conscience. He was easy to guide with the proper directions, like a mule with a carrot on a string.

"My sweet, it was only a thought. A simple jest of an idea," the Prince beseeched, holding his trousers in an attempt at modesty. "You know that I love you far more than any vice."

As you spoke, you slowly retreated from the door, your hand lowering to your side. "But I know the truth of men. They are animals. They see a shiny thing, and then an even shiner, more beautiful thing comes along, and suddenly that first thing is nothing but a tarnished object."

Hearing the noiseless scoff of Aegon, you turned, your fists clasped behind your back as you tilted your countenance to his level. His eyes were a puddle of ametrine. Blonde brows furrowed together in an anxious expression.

The assured confidence you once held began to erode the longer you stared at his watery gaze and pouted lips. How could you continue with the charade of apathy when he looked so... so helpless? The spoiled Prince who drank and fucked as he pleased was gone, and in his stead was a fragile, pathetic boy, begging with a quivering chin for an ounce of your affection. It was like a blade to the heart. Who were you to deny the pleadings of a wanting child?

"I know you love me, sweetling," you cupped Aegon's pudgy cheeks, and he blossomed, tilting into your soft touch, "but men are flawed creatures. They cannot help themselves when given ceaseless power. I will be nothing but a pretty memory if you become king."

"Then I won't!" the Prince shouted desperately, begging for his life. "I am not fit to rule, my Mother knows it. So does my Father. He would've named me heir years ago if he wanted me so."

Your stare broke from his, brown orbs flitting away to gaze at the wrinkled sheets. Shame gnawed into your mind like the teeth on your lip, nearly breaking your facade.

"You truly love me enough to turn away the crown?" The words sounded like a plead more than an inquiry, your voice mirroring his own.

"Yes! I swore an oath to you, my love. I pledged my heart and soul to be yours and only yours." You returned your vision to his, eyes flicking to the mole on his chin, lips, and eyes again. "I will be yours until my last breath, as you will be mine."

You smiled, head tilting in blissful relief. "Not every man is as strong as you, Aegon, strong enough to turn away power." Your hand trailed from his cheek to his neck, your fingers barely wrapping around the pale flesh. "I believe you deserve to feel the depth of my appreciation for such a selfless act."

The Prince's tongue swiped across his lip, knees becoming weak as you gave him a serene smile, gaze hooded. He was helpless against you. From the moment he saw you in the alley behind Madam's, brown and violet orbs staring back at him, an annoyed expression on your face as your girlish hands collected the apples from the flagstone, he knew you were his.

Aegon tried to forget the meeting when it happened. How foolish he felt now for doing so, but you stayed with him wherever he went.

The years back then were a blur, nothing but figures and outlines for memories, yet he remembered you. He remembered the girl with the same lilac in her dark eyes as his, the white streak in her hair that resembled his own. He couldn't rid you in the weeks leading up to Daemon's arrival, frequenting your caregiver's house more than ever, hoping for a glimpse of your girlish form.

It was fate that brought you together. Aegon didn't believe in the Gods, yet when you were placed before him with rags for clothes and dried locks from the harsh soap you used, he felt it was destiny. A divine force put you in his path, and he thanked whichever one it was every moment.

Your gaze flicked to the Prince's parted mouth, chest rising and falling too fast to be typical as your lips met his. He devoured your kiss as if it was his first meal, your essence bursting over his tongue as your fingers tightened around his throat.

When you finally pulled away, teeth dragging over the soft flesh of his lip as he met your gaze, your pupils dilated in want. Aegon chased after you in search of that feeling, but you leaned out of reach, failing to hide the smirk on his sullen face. You merely grinned in response, your hand traveling to brush back the stray locks of white that fell over his pink ears.

"You are such a good boy, Aegon. So good to me. I want to show you how proud I am of you."

Aegon died in that moment, ascending to the Seven Heavens, and before him stood an angel singing hymns of praise. He hadn't known how long he waited for someone to say those words to him. The Prince was putty in your hands. He would do anything you asked of him if only you would praise him more.

Slowly, you sunk to your knees, Aegon observing you intensely as you gazed back, a particular look in your eyes. It had been moons since you took his cock in your mouth and felt the heavy weight of his shaft and the salty taste of his seed down your throat. You had hidden the enjoyment of the action when you previously did it, denying yourself the happiness you now believed you deserved.

His breeches were still untied, and his member still hard, a bit of his spend dried on the silt as you took him in your hand. The flat of your tongue wet the milky droplet, tasting like you remembered. The action kindled the fire through your veins, and you rubbed your thighs to alleviate it.

You gave Aegon a few experimental pumps to ensure he was ready, his head tilting back in response as he gulped. You licked languid stripes up his shaft, lips wrapping around his cockhead at the end before you released it with a final pop. His digits went into your hair, smoothing it back for purchase and seeing your face unobscured. Each time you moved, the Prince was near ecstasy, legs trembling and jaw tensed as you accumulated your saliva, dribbling it onto him.

You were far better than any whore he had ever had. Aegon understood you lacked the apparent skill that came with experience, yet it was far more pleasurable than even the most veteran woman he laid with. He did not have the connection to them that he did with his little Princess, her mere presence enough to set his blood ablaze.

Your mouth engulfed Aegon's cock, jaw having to unhinge more than expected to accommodate his girth. It felt wonderful to finally have him inside you again, though you much preferred it in another place, a moan vibrating into his hips as his fingers pulled at your roots.

You slowly took him further, lips covering your teeth as the wet muscles of your mouth stroked him. The muscles in Aegon's stomach tightened as he attempted to stave off his premature release, wanting to feel the pleasure of your mouth for as long as he was able. You were a little more than halfway before his tip hit your throat, momentarily gagging at the foreign intrusion.

Hand gripping Aegon's thigh, you relaxed, closing your eyes as you puffed air through your nose and took him to the hilt. It was his favorite thing, the feeling of his cock entirely inside you. It nearly sent him over a cliff and crashing to the ground below, but he halted, gripping your hair harshly enough to make you whine.

"Fuck," he hissed, grounding himself in the feeling that was you.

You smiled around him as much as allowed, proud that you could reduce a Prince of the Realm to a wanton mess. A gush of slick coated your small clothes at the realization, retreating until only your lips were left around his leaking tip.

You inhaled a deep breath through your nostrils as your gaze flicked to meet his in quiet assurance. Hooded purple eyes met yours, light brown lashes fluttering as you began to bob back and forth with the rhythm of your fist. Aegon appeared as if he was about to crumble, his brows pinched together and lips pursed.

You felt dominion over the Prince despite being in a position of weakness, on your knees, the display a show of subjugation, yet you held all the power. If you felt inclined, you could ruin him, stop your ministrations at any moment, and leave him denied of his release, mind swirling with thoughts of rejection and self-hatred. But you were not cruel despite what the Court said. Those who suffered your wrath were deserving of it. You had rage, but you were not bestial.

Aegon punctuated your thoughts with a harsh snap of his hips as his manhood collided with the back of your throat, gagging. Your eyes became slits, humming in disapproval, grabbing his stones and pinching them meanly. The Prince whimpered, knees knocking and attempting to regain composure with his sturdy grip locked in your hair.

He felt a mixture of patheticness along with his arousal, the two emotions creating an intoxicating mix of pleasure and self-loathing. He would not have it any other way so long as it were you. Your touch made him crumble, an impuissant mess of a boy rather than a man. Aegon would take whatever you gave him with a broad smile and eager, open arms.

You released Aegon with a rugged gasp of air, your hand hastening to make up for the departure of your mouth.

"My sweet boy," you cooed from below, licking your lips before attacking his cock once more. "My good boy. You deserve this, don't you? You have been exceptional to me, denying the crown like a favorable and obedient son. You care for me, do you not?" you badgered rhetorically, continuing your assault as you licked the underside of his shaft. "Yes, you do." Your mouth latched onto his balls, the soft skin molding around it, causing him to hurdle toward the cliff. "Good boys who love me get to peak. Are you a good boy?"

Aegon nodded fervently as if the very fate of the realm depended on his answer, and perhaps it did. "I asked you a question, Aegon. Good little brat princes answer me. Now, tell me," you spat onto his member, some saliva splattering onto the fine dusting of hairs at his base, "are you a good little boy?"

"Yes!" he shouted, the words traveling to the heavens above. "Yes, yes, yes! I'm a good boy. I'm your good boy. I love you." He groaned, chin tucking into his chest as he watched you pleasure him with focused determination. "Please -fuck- please let me come. I want to come for you so bad."

Tears were pouring from his amethyst orbs that you hadn't noticed, his emotions too intense to keep hidden. It brought another wave of mind-numbing arousal through your body to have Aegon such a blubbering mess, begging you to let him peak.

"You are my good boy, that's right, and good boys get to come wherever they want."

It appeared like Aegon was going to combust, your words moments away from sending him over the edge, but he withheld, managing to grunt out, "face" before his seed covered your flesh.

Ropes of his spend painted your face, eyes shut and grinning with satisfaction as you pumped him through his high. Each splash of warmth to your cheeks brought further gratification to your features, your countenance becoming a welcoming canvas for Aegon's devotion, his peak sliding down the column of your throat.

His stomach tensed, nearly doubling over as your touch began to burn, the pleasure becoming painful until you ceased. The Prince's cock throbbed, the thumping in his chest matching the beat in between his legs as he watched his spend drip from your cheeks.

What a beautiful site, Aegon thought, but what a waste of seed. He longed for the chance to have his babe quicken in your womb, a princeling or little Princess with his eyes and your hair causing mayhem in the halls of the Red Keep. What a thing that would be, more dark-haired children within the House of The Dragon. His Mother would keel over at the sight. The idea did not seem too far off as he wiped the pearlescent droplets from your eyes, gaze flicking to your abdomen.

"Your beauty is bewitching. 'Tis a wonder how I lead myself from temptation." You beamed, head resting in Aegon's palm as you stood, leaning into his devouring lips.

"You flatter me, my love, but you have a true beauty," you replied, still having difficulty accepting his compliments. "Your eyes are the color of lavender, hair the moon, skin softer than the finest silk." Your digits brushed his strands behind his ear, fingers resting and gaze boring into his. "You are my love. I will have no one else but you. Cursed be he who seeks to tear us asunder."

Reciting the oath of marriage before Aegon, he kissed you, swallowing your moan, a puff of air leaving his nose at the force.

"It should have been you who I was married to," he spoke noiselessly onto your skin. "I never wanted to wed Helaena. She is my sister."

You flash him an empathetic look, tracing the outline of his face. "She feels the same. I am sure of it."

Nodding, you lead the Prince to your wrinkled sheets, wrapping yourself in his embrace as you lay down. The lust between your thighs was still there, but one question raged in your mind, creating a cavernous feeling of anxiety.

What would happen if they forced Aegon onto the throne?

You were his strength yet also his weakness. Lord Otto and Queen Alicent could use his love for you if they found out and twist his thoughts until nothing was left but their schemes. You dreaded the inevitable discussion of this scenario with Aegon, but it did not feel as heavy as you believed it would. He loved you. You understood that now, but the haunting shadow of doubt and failure lurked within the corners of your mind.

"Aegon," you spoke, voice sounding smaller than intended, "what would happen if they tried to crown you even though you do not want it? What would become of us?" Tears pricked your eyes, unable to withhold your genuine emotions any longer.

"I will not let them. I shall die before they put us against each other. I will have no reason to continue without the only person who cares for me," he answered plainly, voice holding a finality.

You turned your head to meet his, the Prince's stare hard with determination. "I do not wish you to die for me. I want you to live for me." Aegon returned your gaze, tenderly mirroring your actions from earlier and tucking a lock of ebony hair behind your ear. "For as long as I exist, someone will love you."

He grinned crookedly, pecking your forehead. "What do you suggest we do, little dragon?" he asked, laying back onto your goose-down pillows.

"I have a notion of who could help us. I've spoken to her about this subject before, but if she is no longer willing..." you trailed off, doubt festering in your mind. "I will find a way or make one."

With a resolute purpose settling into your bones, you took a calming breath, curling into Aegon's side with a sigh. Time was of the essence. Viserys was living with the Stranger at his bedside, and at any hour, he could leave this plane, but for right now, at this moment, all that mattered was the fair-haired boy humming faintly in your ear.

***

Winter was at its peak, yet no snow fell, unlike Dragonstone. You received ravens from your family regularly, detailing their life back home. Jace's fifteenth nameday had passed, and Luke's fourteenth. You could not attend both small celebrations due to your Father's wishes. It hurt not to fly to see them; it would only take a day, but Daemon explained the precarity of the late-season months. The King's health declined, and the cold only worsened his condition.

These were the sacrifices you made for the good of your kin and the kingdom, and as any obedient child and daughter of the realm, you bore them with a stiff lip. Yet there were moments like this, your moonlit child resting in your lap as he gazed out of the library window. This made those sacrifices painless.

"At the time of the Rhoynish Wars, Nymeria ruled in Ny Sar. During the Second Spice War, Prince Garof Chroyane united the nobility in a grand alliance against the Valyrian Freehold," you read from the History of Rhoynish Wars by Beldecar.

"Only Princess Nymeria spoke against him, warning the other princes that they could not win the war. However, the other princes shouted her down and joined their strength to Prince Garin, and even Nymeria's own warriors were eager to join his cause."

It was inevitable that Aegon was not listening, his fingers fidgeting with the ring you gifted him his first nameday with you, but it was no bother. You knew that this was his only moment of peace from his duties, which he was tending to as of late. Otto unthinkingly took it as a sign that he was finally preparing to become the heir he and many of the lords wished him to be.

"Princess Nymeria led her fleet of ten thousand ships down the Rhoyne, past ruined towns and fields of corpses. To avoid Volantis and the dragonlords, Nymeria chose an older channel and emerged into the Summer Sea, where the city of Sarhoy once stood. The following voyage was long and gruesome, and more than a hundred ships sank in the first storm they encountered. More were taken by fear and turned back, only to be captured by slavers out of Volantis. Others fell behind or drifted away and were never seen again."

Aegon released a puff of hair, turning his neck into an awkward position to look at the hand-painted illustration of the Princess setting sail with her ships. "That seemed to work rather well for her in the end, didn't it? That's why you travel with dragons and not ships."

You threw a half-hearted scowl at him for his unappreciated anecdote. At least he was listening.

"For three years, Nymeria's fleet wandered the southern seas," you continued. "Nymeria led the Rhoynar first to the Basilisk Isles, where they were attacked by corsairs. She refused the corsairs' offer to settle on the Isle of Toads, and the Rhoynar continued on to Sothoryos, where they struggled to survive at Basilisk Point, Zamettar, and Yeen."

The timbre of voices outside the library doors stole you from your studies, confusion etching your features as to who would be speaking. Ser Erryk posted at the entrance like a sworn protector should, following the commands of Aegon that you should not be disturbed. Just as the voices came, they went, fading into the distance and your mind.

"After an unsuccessful year in Sothoryos, the Rhoynar set sail and travelled again, this time for three years. They were welcomed at Naath, but left when they became afflicted with a deadly illness on the isle. Nymeria led them next to Abulu in the Summer Islands, which became known after as the Isle of Women, but they were unable to grow enough food on the land there."

The Prince perked at that, a mischievous glint in his eyes as you shook your head. "Isle of Women? That has gotten your attention and not the act of a single woman leading a fleet of ten thousand ships?" He chuckled, responding with a flippant shrug, tilting his head and quickly pecking your lips as an apology for his boyish antics.

"After years of arduous journeys full of storms, disease, and slavery, Nymeria led the surviving Rhoynar to Dorne in southern Westeros. Some Rhoynish ships landed on the Stepstones or surrendered to slavers from Lys and Tyrosh, but the remaining ships landed at the mouth of the Greenblood in Dorne. Nymeria made common cause with..." You turned the page to find the next missing, torn from its spine.

Perplexed, you flipped the bleached parchment back and forth as if the missing piece would appear with enough persistence.

"Go on," Aegon said, removing the ring from his finger to inspect the glowing gem in the sunlight shining through the window panes.

You skimmed through the pages, hoping to find the missing words somewhere, but had no luck, letting out a huff of annoyance. "I cannot, Aegon. A page is missing."

He sat straight, glancing at the jump in history. "Well, it appears like she creates a war in Dorne," the Prince chortles, snatching the tome and placing it beside him. "It does not matter, little one. We already know of the history and I am sure there are plenty of books that are far more entertaining than that. Have you read the Loves of Queen Nymeria?"

Playfully rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms, your lips smirking downward as Aegon batted his eyelashes impishly. No matter his age, he would remain a newly bloomed lad with thoughts regarding that of raunchiness. It was one of the many attributes you adored of his, though many viewed it as a vice.

"I love you, my pet, despite your boyishness," teasing, you failed to hide the grin splitting your face. You could not be cross with him. You spent far too long denying yourself from feeling such a thing. Gods be damned if you allowed it to happen again.

Aegon scooted closer to you on the plush settee, forms barely a centimeter apart as you became one, mouths ravenous for each other. You were unsure when you began to miss his touches, the caress of his lips on yours. It left you breathless and filled with indescribable joy within your gut. You wanted to be one with him, one heart, one body, one mind, one soul. You wished towed before the Seven, your hands bound and palms touching.

It was not something you would have, you realized with great melancholy. The threat of Dalton Greyjoy's proposal still hung cumbersomely over your heart, mind running out of witty things and excuses to give him before he grew tired of your procrastination.

Aegon relinquished your tongues from their dance with a sharp breath, hand traveling up the expanse of your thigh, clothed in a thick layer of swirled nacreous fabric until he reached the filleted embroidery of your bodice. His thumb gingerly caressed the area where your bud would poke, peppering kisses down your neck.

The doors to the library opened, abruptly ending the Prince's assault on your skin. You both glanced at Ser Erryk, annoyed, Aegon refusing to pull away in the presence of one who swore to keep his secrets.

"Forgive the intrusion, Your Grace, but the Queen wishes to speak with you both."

Aegon slowly retreated, missing the warmth you radiated in these icy months. "Eck," he scoffed with ire, sliding a respectable distance away. "Let her come."

As soon as the knight left, Queen Alicent appeared, a grim look on her heart-shaped features and fists clasped together with raw cuticles. "What is it you wish to say, Mother? I am currently studying the life of Queen Nymeria. Did you know she led an army of ten thousand to Dorne?"

"Yes. I did, my son," the Queen nodded primly. "She married Mors Martell soon after she landed."

"Ah," you acknowledged, swiftly attempting to end the increasing tension between the pair, "that is who she wed. A page was missing from the tome, as if someone tore it."

Alicent's gaze quickly went to the opened book on the settee, large chestnut eyes welling with unnamed emotions. She stared far longer than necessary as you and Aegon shared a questioning look. You shifted, ankles crossing just as your Septa taught you before she finally fixed her sights on your unsuspecting form.

"I have matters I would like to discuss with the Princess," she suddenly stated, a shadow casting over her face, "if you will allow me, my son." The title sounded unused and stiff, Alicent's knuckles turning pale.

Aegon opened his mouth to disagree, but you stopped him with a reassuring smile and nod. He reluctantly stood, his dissent evident. "As you wish, Mother."

He stood, dusting off his wrinkled trousers as he cast you one last glance. Seeing no regret, the Prince exited but did not stray far, slouching against the wall beside Ser Cargyll.

"What did you wish to discuss with me, my Queen?" you inquired politely, back straight and pearl necklace glinting in the light.

She flashed a forced smile, appearing more like a grimace as she sat at the other end of the furniture. The piece was slightly longer than your height, but the distance between you felt like an age. Alicent's vision was misty as she observed your features.

Your style choices differed significantly from when you first arrived at the keep. Typical Targaryen reds and blacks were now switched to those creams and gold, and Dragonglass Valyrian steel jewelry was replaced with elaborate chains of diamonds, rubies, and pearls. It was lavish for her taste, too yellow and grand, unlike her pious green. It seemed like something Aegon would wear. Her expression soured at the idea.

"You have been here for some time, yes?" The Queen began, your face etched with unasked questions. "And in turn you have grown close to my son."

You nodded solemnly but with hesitancy. Where was this headed?

"You know that I discovered his affections when I requested your aid for his twentieth nameday. While I can never repay you for preventing the embarrassment his absence would've brought, I do believe that your allowance in serving on the King's Small Council is enough," she said, words Alicent had swallowed vomiting past her lips.

Having an idea of what she was slowly getting towards, your mood changed. You crossed your arms displeasedly, no longer confused and open to the conversation.

"You have missed much of your brothers' ascent into maturity. Jacaerys and Lucerys are nearly men now, and I do not want you to feel obligated to stay here and live without them," the Queen expressed. It was false sincerity. "After all, our kin is all we have."

Unable to hide your scoff, you stood, rolling your eyes as you faced Alicent. "Unlike you, I do not enjoy the pomp and circumstance of courtly talk. 'Tis better to yank the rooting tooth instead of waiting for it to decay. Speak plainly so that we may not prolong this more than necessary," you declared with squared shoulders.

Alicent cleared her throat, shifting her weight and briefly fidgeting with the golden Seven-Pointed Star enveloping her throat.

This is what she despised about you, Targaryens. There was no tact, no appreciation for what separated the nobles from the small folk. Where was your sense of duty? Simple manners and a correctly placed smile could do far more than the threat of steel.

"I had hoped we could discuss this with more propriety, but I see that is something you Targaryens do not understand," she spat. Her poisonous words shot through your heart, momentarily stopping it and widening your eyes into a dumbfounded expression. "You must leave King's Landing. Your presence here is not a welcomed one if it indeed was."

You took her words as a challenge, a threat from an opponent. If you were on the battlefield, the glint of metal and blade slash would have stopped the Queen from finishing. She was fortunate that she was married to the king.

"You do not have the authority to send me away, Alicent," you snarled, losing all respect for her title. "What would your husband, the King, say should he discover you're attempting to exile his daughter's ward?"

She brushed off the thought, large brown eyes staring up at you with an unaffected disdain, as if you were nothing more than the slop underneath her finely crafted shoes. "There is no need for you now that Rhaenyra has promised to return on dragonback. I suggest you go to your chambers and alert the servants of your departure," she sighed, rising from the plush cushions in finality. "It is best we do this in a timely manner so as not to cause any unnecessary attention."

Your stare narrowed, lips pursing as you stepped toward the Queen. "Unnecessary attention? You mean for me to leave like a rat in the night so your son will not know."

Alicent should have expected this reaction. It was in her nature to hope for the good within people, yet time and time again, she was proven there was none.

"I shall not leave King's Landing nor will I ever. Aegon is my kin and someone I hold dear. I will never abandon those I love."

You shouted with much conviction, and it nearly swayed Alicent into believing you, but she knew better. She knew you had no love for her child; you were using him. You were an extension of Daemon and his ambitions. At a time, she pitied you for it, seeing a reflection of herself, but that softness had hardened under the realization that your actions affected her child.

"You people do not know of love," she laughed coldly. "Duty is love. Obedience is love. I will not allow your rot to afflict my son as Rhaenyra did me. You will leave King's Landing by order of the Queen."

Alicent missed the slip of her words until a blanket of silence covered the library. She said something no one was ever to hear, not even Rhaenyra. It was something she denied in the early years of her girlhood when days were packed with nothing but the yellow sun in the sky and silver hair in her fingers. What had she done?

What had she done?

Your steps were calculated as you stood barely a pace away from the Queen. It made sense now why your Mother would be unable to meet your gaze when you brought up Alicent, why the Queen would speak in such a way that left you puzzled. They were in love, at least at one point in time. You were unsure if either of them knew what the other felt or if they understood what that love was.

The overzealous religious imagery of the Keep was Alicent's guilt for what the gospel preached as a sin from the Seven. You almost felt sympathetic for her, but her projection of the inner turmoil she had inside turned into your punishment. You had no sympathy.

"Love can often be mistaken for hate," you spoke. It was something you knew far better than most.

The Queen balked at your words, still reeling at the notion of her confession and the potential consequences that would arise from them. You were not cruel. Even to those who deserved it, you now realized as you bid farewell.

"I shall reside in King's Landing until my Mother acends the Iron Throne, and even then, I will still be here," you proclaimed with your chin held high, Knowing she could not protest. "Good day, Your Grace."

And with a definitive curtsy, head and knees dipping low in mock reverence, you exited the library, book long forgotten as it lay open to the torn page.

Masterlist of Series

I totally did not fall asleep while posting this and then wondered why no one interacted with the post. XD

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[itsgrimeytime]

Magnolia in May (Part Twenty Four) || Rick Grimes (TWD) x Greene!f!reader Regency AU

Parts 1-20, 21, 22, 23...

Taglist: @loliakeoghan23 @curlycarley @queenie32 @mgparker

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration (in honor of Speak Now Taylor's Version): Enchanted by Taylor Swift.

Summary: Your town was small, not the smallest you knew, but anyone of high fortune was the gossip of the week. Predictably, Richard Grimes was a thing of whispers -rumors of a search for marriage among the grassy hills. You weren't one to buy into town gossip, but something about him... just seemed a little too intriguing.

TW: a lil ✨️steamy✨️, but nothing past making out.

[[A/N: Did I just make a whole chapter about kissing??? Maybe I did. 🤭 Thanks for reading !!! ]]

You hadn't been alone with Mr. Grimes since the ball.

Not that you were noticing or anything, it was just a spare thought. After the success of such an announcement (other than a few gasps of more established audience), Mr. Grimes had been whisked away by the crowd and so had you. So, you hadn't been alone with him since then.

Not that you were-

Maggie stared at you, watching your hands twitch and you stare off into space, "What's wrong with you?"

When you didn't answer, she threw a pillow at your head.

You were in the safety of your bedroom, door closed and the early morning birds chirping -your Headmistress had slept in, by the grace of god. And your sisters had occupied your space, as you waited for the to-do list to generate -or Headmistress to wake up.

It was normally a wonderful thing, these early mornings with your sisters, Maggie making conversation and Beth nose-deep in a book -she wouldn't tell you what it was about if you asked.

"What?" You questioned, blinking away your trance.

"I said," she scooted closer to you on the bed, "-what is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," you answered, quickly -too quickly.

"Liar," she tsked, and now Beth looked up, intrigued, "-something happened, I can tell. You look... You look like a lost puppy-"

"Certainly not," you laughed, looking to Beth.

"No," she answered, matter-of-factly, "-you do. She's right."

"Are you really yearning for Mr. Grimes so badly?"

"No," you echoed, but it sounded sort of hollow, "-it's just been a wondrous few days, so I... I just wished to sit and think of them."

Maggie paused, before looking at you thoughtfully, "You're such a liar, something happened!"

Beth now had jumped up onto the bed, blond curls recklessly out of place and book tossed to the side, she was now at full attention, "Was it the ball? He planned it all out for you, Father told him-"

"I know," you smiled, something far away in your eyes again.

"There it is again!" Maggie retorted, slapping your arm, "-Something happened at the ball-"

"Nothing you don't know about," you swiftly lied, turning a touch crimson at the assumption.

"Was it the dancing?" Beth asked, innocently.

"The whole ball was just delightful," you remarked, genuinely, because it was. You didn't have to lie about that.

Maybe you liked some parts better than others but that was-

"Again!" Maggie spoke, "-Again, it's not the dancing, or the ball itself. What happened? I must know-"

"I don't have to tell you everything," you laughed, it slipped out of your tongue before you could stop it.

"Something did happen!"

"Tell us, tell us-"

"I... I can't," you answered, honestly.

But then, Maggie looked at you, green eyes matching your own. And whether it was the twitch or your lips, or the slight twinkle in your eye, you'd never know but something told her.

"He kissed you," she finished, in a whispered sort of yelling tone. Despite her being fast asleep, the three of you took no chances. Especially now.

"No-" you sputtered.

"He kissed you and you want to kiss him more!" Maggie retorted in the same tone, nearly tackling you into the bed -the tips of your ears were burning, "-How many times?"

"This is ridiculous, he's a gentleman-"

"More than once," she gathered, you have no idea where from, "-How many times, sister?"

You sighed, covering your face with your hands, "I don't know-"

"He kissed you," Maggie relented, falling back onto the bed with a bump, "-and you don't know how many times? How scandalous-"

"It truly wasn't!" you echoed, "-I was just... I was telling him how much I loved him because, well, he didn't believe me-"

"And he kissed you?" Beth asked, inquisitively, like she was looking at a new type of flower.

"Yes," you finally answered, fidgeting with the blanket underneath your fingertips, "-I don't know how many times, I didn't count-"

Maggie and Beth watched on.

"-when it's happening, you don't... you don't think to count. You don't think at all. I just-"

"You want to kiss him again," Maggie spoke, knowingly.

You sighed, not meeting their eyes -defeated, "I do. So greatly."

"What was it like?" Beth asked, fidgeting with the pillow that hit your head moments before.

"I don't-" you started, before softening, she was just curious.

"It was like everything all at once. I felt... I felt what he wanted me to feel, and you're both impossibly close but you wish to be closer-"

The girls watched on in silence, listening to every word like it was wisdom.

"-I..." you exhaled, delightfully crimson, "-I believe that's the best way to explain it. But I can't quite explain why I want more... I... I just want it."

"So, go kiss him then!" Beth exclaimed, and suddenly the room fell very quiet. Everyone waited for the telltale footsteps up the stairs but it remained silent.

"She's not wrong," Maggie asserted, "-Mr. Grimes would do anything for you. If you asked-"

"It's improper," you reiterated, "-as a lady, I shouldn't-"

"You're courting," Beth pointed out.

"And you should be allowed to kiss when you want to," Maggie added, "-he's had his turn, where's yours?"

"I just- I can't just ask him-"

"He loves you," Maggie said, heartfully, "-there's nothing you can do to scare him away, especially ask for a kiss. Men like that kind of thing, you know."

"Mr. Grimes is an honorable man," you spoke, "-I cannot soil such reputation just because I want to."

"You didn't get caught the first time," Maggie responded, dryly.

"Well, the ball was going on," you echoed, "-everyone was distracted-"

"You want a distraction?" Maggie grinned, "I can give you a distraction."

That's how you wound up at the Grimes's estate at the hour of lunch, Headmistress had woken up then but had merely rejoiced in going to visit Mr. Grimes again. She was key to Maggie's plan anyway, so her attendance was integral.

"Headmistress," you remarked, nervously, "-I believe I forgot my fan at home, I should run and grab it-"

"Darling," she laughed, "-I'm certain they have fans here if you request it."

"Well, it's an important fan-"

"It's just one visit, Y/N," she echoed raising a brow at you, "-is everything alright, dear? Did you have another spat?"

"Everything's fine, Headmistress," you smiled, but it was far too strained, "-I'm just a little antsy. This is the first time I've-"

"Seen him since the announcement, I know," Headmistress interrupted, smiling brightly, "-it's such a darling day too. So romantic."

You'd felt kind of bad that you were showing up out of the blue, something in your stomach twisting about him being unprepared to deal with Headmistress. But something in your chest was delighted to see him once more. And maybe, even-

"Ladies," he spoke, shaking you out of your stupor, "-lovely to see you all today. Is there any special occasion?"

Your eyes dusted along his figure, he was again wearing an undershirt sprinkled with dirt. His hair was slicked back with sweat and his eyes a dazzling sort of blue that made your heart pick up the pace for a moment. You watched a bead of sweat run down his nose with eager eyes, derailing to his lips-

"She just wished to visit you," Headmistress concurred, "-it has been quite a few days."

"I do apologize for that," he hummed to you and Headmistress, "-Judith grew sick and I was very much occupied."

"Oh," you spoke, softly, concerned, "-do we need to leave? I'd hate to intrude on such a sensitive time."

His eyes flicked to you and you saw something soften -your heart stuttered in your chest, "That's kind of you, Ms. Greene. But, she's well now, and I'd been delighted to be in your company. All of your company."

"Oh, please," Headmistress echoed, "-don't let us intrude, I assumed you'd much prefer the eldest. Take her as you wish."

You blushed crimson at the intentions she did not know of. His eyes dipped to your cheeks with a smile, it only bloomed further along the bridge of your nose and tips of your ears -his grin grew brighter in response.

"Okay," he smiled eyes flickering to you, and lingering -you thought you might know where, "-all of you feel free to do as you wish. If you have any problems, consult with the staff."

And then, as if out of thin air, Daryl appeared and Rick motioned to him to guide them inside, be at their side until further notice.

Which left you and Mr. Grimes. Alone. With a few workers trimming the hedges and sweeping the patio, you should say.

"Hello," you said, sweetly, turning a touch crimson -not sure what to say.

"Hello," he laughed, smiling so bright you almost had to look away before he faltered -something serious flickering through his face, "-is everything alright?"

"What? Yes," you sputtered out, "-everything is fine."

"No," he echoed, soft and careful, "-something's bothering you, I can tell. Was it at your home? Did something happen?"

"No, I didn't- I wasn't-" you sighed, rubbing your eyes -this was exhausting.

"What?"

You sighed again, and merely looked at him -something heavy in your eyes. You tried to speak without speaking because you wouldn't say it-

It was so improper-

He tilted his head and something passed through his face -filtering through seriousness. Something faltering in his blue eyes.

"Oh," he echoed, "-oh."

"Don't-" you started, sputtering out, "-I..."

He frowned, leaning his hand forward -fingers stretching like he wished to touch you. You tilted toward such a touch, but he resisted.

Something was wrong. You could tell.

"Are you alright?"

Mr. Grimes extended his arm forward, held out for your hand -something in you turned a wonderful sort of crimson. He had just expected you to take to his side, like... like you belonged there.

You blushed just a little more at such assumptions.

"Let's walk," he hummed, far too serious for the moment, "-I have something to show you."

It was his garden, his wondrous garden, all trimmed and proper. If you looked down to the fine details, it's quite messy but nature was messy-

You were happy to see the sprouts and the cherry red tomatoes already peaking out such a red. It was interesting, something you'd never quite seen before.

And you were certain you never would have if you hadn't met Mr. Grimes.

You crouched down to hold a tomato between your fingers, gently so as to not heed its progress. But to feel his work between your fingers, to know what he worked so hard for. "This is all your work, then?"

"All mine," he echoed, crouching down by your side -his side brushed against yours and you almost leaned into it, "-'Should be done before winter."

"That's amazing," you smiled, dropping it from your fingers and raising to your feet -looking along the entire patch, "-you work hard, I can tell."

"I love it," he hummed, something off about his tone, "-Speakin' of, I... wanted to talk to you."

You looked around, apparently, this was his place where no one disturbed him as there was not a soul in sight. Not even trimming the nearby hedges. Your heart sped up in your chest, you were-

"Alone," he spoke, echoing out into the fresh air.

"Alone," you echoed, swallowing.

"I just," he cleared his throat, you watched the bob of his throat, "-at the ball..."

Your eyes filled with pictures of him, rosy red lips and twinkle in his eye. Close, close, close-

"I wanted to apologize."

Your mind halted.

"I shouldn't've-" his accent spilled out, as he rubbed his face, "-You deserve much better. I didn't want- I want everythin' to be perfect, to be, uh... right."

"Mr. Grimes-"

"I want to court ya," he spoke, "-properly. And I... I should've held back such... such instincts."

"Rick-"

"I don't want you to feel as you do," he started, "-you deserve something much more special than-"

"Rick," you held his face -tilting his eyes to yours, "-I do not... That's not how I feel. You're making an assumption."

"Then, what-"

"Rick," you sighed, dropping your hands -your cheeks blooming as you shut your eyes, "-I came here for... for more."

"You, what?" He questioned genuinely, and you couldn't see his face but, you could see his head tilting in your head.

You pushed your hands into your eyes, you couldn't just say it, "For more... For more-"

"Kisses," he whispered, tilted down in front of your face, his hands peeling back your own, "-You want to kiss me?"

"Rick-" you sighed, "-I can't-"

He tilted your head up, finger underneath your chin -blue eyes matching yours, a breath away from your face. Your eyes dipped to his lips, just for a spare moment. He watched such a movement with his blue, blue eyes.

"All you have to do is ask, darlin'."

"I..." you spoke a little uselessly, eyes darting along his face -he looked at you reverently, like he couldn't believe you sat in front of him, asking, "-Kiss me, please."

Your voice was quiet, a little ashamed, but he heard every word -carefully leaning forward with the slow, tender sort of speed that had your hands flinching to grab at him. It's not that such speed was unsavory, you just wanted him so, so close-

"Anythin' for you," he whispered, it fanned across your lips -something in you snapped.

You crashed into him without so much as a regret, he startled for a spare moment -stiffening as your fingers landed on his his shirt, pulling him closer. You wanted to feel his heartbeat on yours, feel the grit of his stubble on your cheeks, feel his hands on your face-

As if on cue, his hands went up to cradle your cheeks, softly, still caring for you despite the speed. Despite the passion that built up in your chest, he was still so soft with you -so tender.

You pulled back for a moment, just to see him -all lidded eyes and rosy red lips, all for you. Anything for you-

"I love you," you spilled out like your heart was in the words -laying on the dirt for him to see, for him to have.

It was just the way he looked then, so dazed; it made your heart flutter, you couldn't help it.

You pushed forward, pressing and pressing until you were the one to open your mouth -gasping for air, maybe, you couldn't remember. It didn't matter-

And suddenly you wanted him closer-

His mouth met yours intimately, tongue hesitant but present and suddenly your head was spinning -it was dizzying. Your knees buckled, but he held you there, hand pressed gently to your waist and something in you tingled at such a grasp. It was improper, you knew that-

But why did it feel so good?

"Mr. Grimes," you whispered between presses of your lips -over and over again, "-Rick-"

He stopped, all lips bruised and eyes heavy -you could barely breathe at such a sight. That was all you. But you remembered why you'd stopped because you'd... you'd opened your mouth and you weren't sure if- If he had been so keen on going so far. It was already improper-

Your heart was in your throat now, as you spoke, "Was that okay? Are you- I didn't mean to force anything-"

And then he looked at you, really looked at you -blue eyes swimming over your face, watching you. A smile bit onto his lips, his rosy red lips (you'd kissed him that way-) and he spoke.

"Marry me."

[bbygirl-aemond]

Which Targaryen do you think you would be able to make Freud rise from his grave faster?

....Daemon? Daemon. He checks every single box.

He has massive mommy issues because his mom died when he was a baby. Because she specifically died in childbirth, it rings a lot of Freudian bells related to things like womb envy. The lack of maternal presence is what causes his relationships with all subsequent family members to be so clingy. He also has daddy issues, because Baelon was heavily affected by the losses of his favorite sister and brother and likely never paid much attention to him as a second son.

The mommy and daddy issues combine into him projecting his maternal and paternal needs for affection/approval/etc. onto his only remaining relative, his older brother Viserys. This is also because his parents were both siblings, so they blended the fraternal with the romantic and sexual, AND his grandparents did the same because they were also siblings. All of the romantic relationships modeled before him were between siblings.

So Daemon loves Viserys in every possible way (fraternal, paternal, maternal, and romantic) and desires the same from Viserys in return. Because it's the only way he knows to love. This is also why Daemon has def got some gender envy, because if he'd been born a girl, then Viserys would have married and loved him (in his mind) and they could have had babies together (he's super into Valyrian bloodline stuff).

Here's where Daemon's obsession with Rhaenyra comes into play. He views her as a kindred spirit, sort of who he thinks he could have been if he'd been born a girl, especially because she gets Viserys's favor the way he thinks he would have if he'd been a girl. He also sees her as an extension of Viserys; if he can't have Viserys, then at least he can have Rhaenyra. He loves her because she gives him the affection he wanted from Viserys, because he can't be in a relationship with Viserys and she's the next best thing (Ryan Condal has confirmed this verbatim btw in case you think I'm reaching).

This is part of why he's SO happy to have babies with Rhaenyra. Baby Aegon and Viserys represent the children he wishes he could have had with Viserys. They carry Viserys's blood, through Rhaenyra, and Daemon's blood, through himself. They represent the union (yes, romantic and sexual) that Daemon subconsciously wishes he could have had with Viserys.

(Also, if you're asking within the Stormbreak universe, Aemond looks fairly similar to how Daemon's mom, Alyssa, is described. Plus he's also like an extension of Viserys, maybe even more so because he's male.)

Like, this mans' psychosexual fuckery has LAYERS. The incest aspect of him and Rhaenyra is only the tip of the iceberg because of how much it ties into his fucked up feelings towards Viserys. And it would honestly have most of these layers even if his parents had survived, because they were still siblings, as were his grandparents.

I think a lot of this Viserys stuff would be WAY more clear if they hadn't aged Viserys up in the show, btw. In the book, Viserys is only four years older than Daemon, but in the show he seems like a grandpa by the time he dies. If Viserys was played by someone who was younger and hot the way Matt Smith is, I guarantee they would be one of THE most popular ships in the fandom, and this type of analysis would be super commonplace.

Anyways yes if Daemon existed in real life he would single-handedly resurrect Freud and also probably render him immortal by virtue of being the single most fucked up incesty individual on the planet.

[kame-writes]

Media Overlords drabble - Girls night

Velvette turns up at the Hotel

Charlie rushed to open the door, surprised to hear it being knocked so late in the afternoon. There was a giddy, optimistic part of her hoping that it was someone interested in staying at the hotel. And despite the fact that it hadn't happened yet, she still greeted the person on the other side with a Dazzling smile. “Welcome to the Hazb-”

“Zip it Princess, nobody cares.” The impatient cockney voice instantly gave away who it was, and she didn't sound in a good mood.

The Vees generally didn't come out to the hotel, except Vox who was a naussance on a debatably regular occasions. Valentino was out right banned on pain of something about Alastors shadow, which had been a huge relief to Angel Dust. So Velvette standing with her hand on her hip in the doorway was a very odd sight indeed.

“I'm just here to pick up my number one bitch for the day.” She explained, pushing her way through the door and into the lobby. 

“Uh Angel Dust?” Charlie guessed, not sure who Velvette meant. Angel was a good guess, since he was always in fashionable clothes for his shows, which she assumed came from the social media overlord.

“Pffft as if. He wishes he was number one.” With a scoff Velvette brought a hand to her lips and let out an ear piercing whistle, before screaming. “Girls night!”

Immediately, there was the sound of quick, tip tapping sounds as someone ran down the stairs. A red and white blur rushed past Charlie and launched itself into Velvette’s arms.

“Niff, how you been girl?” Velvette grinned, pulling her into a spinning hug, before settling the much smaller sinner on her hip, able to hold her almost like a child since she was so much smaller. “Towers been boring as fuck without you running around causing chaos.”

“I'm in a war with the cockroaches!” Niffty  beamed, excited as always to talk about her unusual little hobbies. “You should see my collection, hehe, I put on puppet shows with them!”

“Good for you. Now then, the boys have pissed me off today, so we're going all out. I'm talking spa day, retail therapy, the works. If we don't max out at least one of Vox's cards, we ain't doing enough.” 

“Ya know. Al gave her a job here. He ain't gonna like you taking her away like this.” Husk pointed out from the bar.

“Stay outta this pussy cat. If that Deer bastard’s got an issue he can come back to the tower and hash it out with me personally. Hear for himself just what I think of him demoting my girl to a fucking janitor.”

“I like to clean!” Niffty grinned, not seeming to see the same Issue Velvette was.

“So. You're taking Niffty shopping? Is she going to be gone long?” Charlie asked, clearly a bit apprehensive about letting their weird little maid leave by herself with an Overlord.

“I don't think it gives us a good image, if our staff is seen out and about with the Vees.” Vaggie pointed out, making herself known from further back in the foyer, glaring at the young overlord suspiciously.

“Oh please. What kind of Hotel only has, like, two guests anyway. One or two posts on my Sinstagram and your crummy little hotel could be crawling with patrons.” Velvette almost giggled, turning around to hold up her phone for a selfie.

“Aheh. I wouldn't do that if I was you, little lady.” A familiar staticky radio voice spoke out, a second before its owner materialized from the shadows, leaning forward on his cane with slightly narrowed eyes aimed at Velvette’s phone camera. “Unless of course, you wish for the first shop you visit to be buying a replacement.”

“If you break one more of my phones I swear to-”

“Let's, uh, not get into a fight shall we?” Charlie cut in, anticipating this to only get worse if it was allowed to continue.

“This hotel is not in affiliation with the Vees. As I have made very clear on multiple occasions.” Alastor's voice was a casual firmness, being polite instead of argumentative. “It is a place for sinners who honestly want to give redemption a shot. Not some tacky, tourist photo opportunity for your social media scrutiny.”

Alastor straightened up from his forward lean, walking over to put himself between both Charlie and Velvette, slightly to the side so he could address them both equally. “However. If Charlie wishes to allow you some form of promotional material. Perhaps you may ask her to join you on your outing today? Ask some questions, take some photos together. Be seen supporting our darling princess in a few of your posts.”

“I'm not letting Charlie go anywhere with an Overlord. It's bad enough that you're here. And even then I'm only about sixty percent sure you're not a threat to us.”

“Sixty? My, I've gone up in your estimations.” Alastor laughed, backed up by a condescending laugh track. “But very well, I suppose it would be remiss to leave you behind.”

“Hold up. This ain't some kind of playdate.” Velvette snapped, putting Niffty back down on the floor to instead stand with both hands on his hips, hip checked to the side with very obvious attitude. “I'm here for Girls night with-”

“And the last time I checked, both Charlie and her paramour were of the female persuasion.” Alastor said, more firmly this time. “Girls night seems like a wonderful bonding experience for all of you!”

Charlie looked back at Vaggie, who was holding her spear to the side, not looking thrilled at the idea, but not outright rejecting it either, and Niffty was bouncing on the spot with a hug grin stretching wide across her face. “I… guess it wouldn't hurt to get to know eachother. I mean, if your a friend of Al's, and wanted to help out.”

“Ooooo! Girls night got bigger.” Niffty gasped, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Urgh.” Velvette groaned, racking a hand down her face in annoyance. But the fond look she gave at seeing how happy the idea made Niffty softened the blow somewhat. “Fine. I suppose being seen with the princess isn't cramping my style too much.” The resignation in her voice was palpable, and the knowing look she shot Alastor only validated his smug expression.

“Wonderful! Anything Charlie buys, you may take out of my personal account.” Alastor said brightly, stepping aside to allow Charlie to pass. “I look forward to hearing all about it this evening.”

Vaggie reluctantly followed the others out of the hotel, moving besides a bewildered but optimistic Charlie, who already looked like she might break into a full round of twenty questions at the drop of a hat.

“And don't you fret princess. I'm sure the boys and I will have things completely under control here until you get back.”

[whumpshaped]

cornered animal

u guys r such a hivemind. i can respect that. i hear u loud and clear

masterlist bingo card

tw vampire whumper, vampire whumpee, lady whumper, conditioning, dehumanisation, begging, sadistic whumper

"Please, leave me be," Helle said shakily, backing away from their sire as she kept advancing on them. "Have I not complied with all of your requests? Have I not been perfect?"

Lady Marie laughed, a soft sound, almost fond. "Oh, perfect is a very strong word to describe what you are. It is true that you have improved in certain areas, and you are getting better at following orders. But perfect? Perfect is a long way off, pet."

"I am trying my best." Desperation was evident in their voice, and in every move they made. Their room wasn't the most spacious, if it could be called a room at all. Their back soon hit the wall, and they realised they had nowhere to run. "Mistress, please, you really have no reason to torment me further. I understand. I do. I, I apologise for my inability to serve you better, but I will improve more, and you shall have a perfect servant in no time. I promise. Please."

"I have been promised many things in life and death alike," she said thoughtfully, coming to a stop outside of arm's reach. Thank god. "Not many of them kept, now that I think about it. And you, pet, are a practised liar; one of your many great talents, one might say."

"I would not dare lie to you, Mistress," they said hastily. "There was a time when I thought I could fool you, and that time is long past. I know my place, now. You– you have made it very clear." They pressed into the wall even more, and they felt a sudden surge of empathy towards the humans they had been hunting for the past decades. They were all but cornered animals in Lady Marie's world, whether alive or undead didn't matter one bit.

"So why do you think I came to visit you, then?"

Helle didn't know. They wished they had, but they were wrecking their head for any little transgressions they might've committed and coming up empty. "I, I honestly do not know, I thought I was doing an adequate job! If I made a mistake, it was out of ignorance, and I can do better if you tell me how. I am eager to do better for you, Mistress, please, give me a chance. One chance without punishment. Please."

"You are not thinking about the right things. Let me give you a hint, pet: you have done nothing wrong recently that would be deserving of a punishment. Now, try again."

Their head was spinning. They were too stressed to be figuring out Lady Marie's motivations, especially given how unpredictable she could be. If they hadn't made a mistake, then why, why was she in their cell? Why did she have that bloodthirsty smile on her face, why did she look at them like they were prey, why did she come at an hour that usually meant cruel whippings and silver pressed against their tongue?

"I do not– do not have the faintest idea, Mistress," they choked out. "I apologise. I have made so many mistakes in the past, punishments are all I can recall."

"Endearing," she teased. "Well, that all changes tonight! Tonight, you will learn a lesson other than atoning for past actions."

"N-no punishment?" they asked hopefully.

"None at all, dear pet." Despite saying that, her thrall soon came into the room, carrying the silver tipped whip that made their breath hitch.

"No, wait, Mistress, please, I have done nothing wrong, you said it yourself! You said there would be no punishment!" Their panic came back in full force, and they grabbed onto their shirt protectively, ready to hiss and bite and claw at her if she tried to take it. They hadn't made a mistake. No whipping was in order.

"And I am no filthy liar. This is not a punishment, pet." She gestured to the floor, and they dropped to their knees like a puppet on a string. They had done this so many times. This was a punishment, this was how punishments started, she was going to torture them, burn them, whip them bloody. "Tonight you shall learn that I expect unconditional devotion. Sacrifices without any rewards in exchange. Your pain without having done me wrong. That way I know you truly are loyal to me."

"I am," they sobbed. "I am, I am loyal, I– that is why I made no mistakes, that is why I am so careful to serve you to the best of my abilities, that is why–"

"That is why you will take whatever I give you." She glanced down at their shirt, and they couldn't, they couldn't bring themself to take it off and subject themself to another night of agony, not without any reason, not when they hadn't even been expecting it. They thought they were okay. "Will you not?"

Their tears felt especially hot against their permanently cold skin, the only warmth they were allowed to feel anymore apart from the fresh blood they were so rarely gifted. They stared at the whip in her hand, trying to will their trembling hands to comply with her orders and failing. "Please..."

"You see, this is why these nights are so crucial in training arrogant little servants like you. All of you think I should be satisfied with your shallow cooperation, your... performance of obedience. But as soon as serving me becomes a touch more difficult, you are all eager to flee." She stepped closer, and their hold on their shirt tightened even more. "Unconditional devotion is so much more than you could even comprehend right now. But you will learn. I am here to make sure of that."

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight

[streamat4am]

Could I request some Weds cockwarming Enid with idk either another au

uhhh Bodyguard or Tongue and Teeth or uh demom au idfk lol one of them

get some good 'ol bodyguard!

tag: enid being sensitive. Wednesday being way too enamored by enid's dick/ lowkey oral fixation instead of cockwarming so uh

whoops, sorry bud

-

Enid is a professional. Its one of things she's been praised for constantly actually!

Professional is what she's meant to be. Professional meant distance, meant setting boundaries and doing what the contract says. Professional certainly doesn't mean taking them whenever and wherever they want.

Unless..?

"You're here to make my load easier," Enid remembers Wednesday say.

Except, Enid could be hearing things because honestly? it was hard to think when Wednesday had a hand down her pants, it was hard to remember more when she sunk to her knees.

"its only right I return the favor."

That's a lie. Enid remembers that Wednesday looks pretty. She has always been pretty but when she's left with ruffled hair and dilated eyes, sobbing, choking and pleading- Enid couldn't stop the thought that she looks delicious.

So, Enid has seen a lot of things but this was something else. Usually, whenever they end up stuck in some hall or closet, there was a rush; A need that Wednesday wishes to be taken care off.

This? this was relaxed.

Maybe it was light hold she has on Enid's base, the slump in her shoulders and the way she curled in between the werewolf's legs but Enid couldn't stop herself from leaning back and sighing as that tongue carefully lapped along her lenght.

The wolf didn't know what to feel. They hadn't-

They were never slow, not until now. Wednesday looked insulted when Enid asked if she should take it easy the very first time they did this so she learned to zip her mouth after that. Her service taught her many things, one of them is learning to pick her battles.

Wednesday wanting it hard is one she will lose.

So Enid closes her eyes because shit, Wednesday had no right to be so good with her mouth. The wolf didn't know what to feel, she was so tempted and raring to go but Wendesday was leading so what could she do?

A whine pulls from her lips when Wednesday swirls her tongue over the tip, slowly pulling away to suck around her head. She hums, uncaring of the way Enid's thigh spasms.

Enid couldn't stop herself, tiny gasps escaping when Wednesday fully pulls away to dip down and nuzzle at her base with those so smooth lips. I'm going insane, the blond thinks, half awake and half thinking she's dreaming. I can't believe this is happening.

Ohmyfucki- Enid pressed a hand to her mouth and she feels copper spill into her tongue when Wednesday's hands move to try and pull her even closer. Its disgusting, the taste, but it makes the haze of her mind disappear even for a bit and leaves Enid sitting in the couch absolutely breathless.

All throughout, Wednesday didn't seem know the amount of struggle her bodyguard was in, too busy lapping along the loose skin around the base before sucking.

She isn't even inside and her knot was already begging to grow. Enid squeezed her eyes shut, another heat joining her cheeks when Wednesday sighs as her tongue pressed at the thing that could keep them close.

"wed-" her words stutter and before she knows it, Enid hooks two fingers in that mouth. Its too much, if Wednesday continues she's going to blow.

Wednesday makes a noise, one that doesn't know if she should be mad or not but still eagerly slurping at her fingers and taking it as far into her throat.

"Wednesday," Enid murmurs, awed at what she's seeing. Its lovely, its beautiful and it has the wolf dipping her head because fucking hell, the things this woman does to her. "C'mere doll."

Wednesday whines before her breath hitches at the weight of Enid's hand on the back of her neck. She follows, of course she does and such obedience earns her kisses along her jaw.

She squirms throughout, her hands pressed against enid's chest and groaning when the wolf takes her fingers away to press her thumb onto her tongue instead.

"beautiful," Enid whisper, pulling that lovely face closer to nuzzle her nose against Wednesday's. Its not a kiss. They don't kiss but its close enough that Wednesday does the same, her breaths light and panting.

They sink in this moment for a second until Wednesday is grinding on her, a light push and slide along her cock. She's dripping, absolutely needy and warm.

"Put it inside," Wednesday says, their tiny break allowing a tiny flicker of thought to push through, before her eyes dip and she lets go. "please?"

Yeah, Enid knew she was fucked after that.

Fuck professionalism, who needs that when she has the woman she loves this close?

Just this once, Enid will let herself want.

[shallanigans]

So, you want to write fanfiction? Here's some advice from someone who spends too much time on ao3, Part 1:

Hey everyone! This is a bit of a deviation from my usual shitposts. I was looking at the "#writers on tumblr" tag today, and I got inspired to post this after some interesting discussions. I'm someone who has read a lot (and I mean A LOT) of fanfic, as well as written some myself... so I thought I'd make this little (no, I lied, it's Very Long) post with some writing tips that I find personally meaningful for those of you who may be getting started or want to try something new.

My qualifications? Honestly, because I said so. This is just my opinion. Feel free to ignore, disagree, hate, ask questions, whatever. I'll be discussing some common fanfic writing advice and what I think about it, as well as giving some general pointers.

Disclaimer: What is "good writing?"

Good writing is effective writing. There is no one way in which everyone should write. Effective writing compels the reader; it makes them interested in your story, keeps them turning the pages, makes them click that "next chapter" button and stay up all night to finish your 500k epic. Some people achieve this through flowery, descriptive prose. Others do so with their quick wit and snappy dialogue. Others write all their fanfictions in second person epistolary format only and make you cry harder than you ever have. The first thing to know is that 1) tastes vary and 2) confidence matters. Find your voice, and be proud of it. If you feel that what you are doing is working for you, and you love it, then keep at it. Someone has already made every "writing mistake" and made it well. Don't fall into the trap of getting bogged down with 674835 contradictory tips and being too terrified to write at all. The only real writing sin is being boring.

Furthermore, this post is for fanfiction specifically. A lot of this advice might be useful for traditional fiction, but it's not a 1:1 carryover. A lot of fanfic advice will be irrelevant for traditional fiction, and vice versa.

That's all fine and dandy, but what do I do?

Good question. First, let's break down what makes a fanfiction effective. Most people searching ao3 for a story probably want:

A compelling premise

With in-character characters

Good spelling, formatting, grammar, and syntax

Stylistically strong writing

A coherent plot

With a certain degree of wish-fulfillment sprinkled in (this is fanfic, after all)

In this series, I will be mostly discussing elements 2-6. Number 1, unfortunately, comes down to "don't be boring," and I can't tell you how to come up with an idea that's going to hook your reader. However, assuming that you already have The Coolest Idea Ever, and you only need the reader to see that, then here's what you can do:

Effective Summaries

No, seriously. Tell people what your fucking story is about. One of my favorite stories on ao3 has the worst, vaguest one-liner of a summary I've ever seen. It is a gem, and if it hadn't been for a friend's recommendation, I would have never read it. You may think that your epic out of context quote from the paragraph you spent hours perfecting will make people care, but it will probably just confuse them. This is likely to be the most controversial thing I say today, so I'm starting off strong.

When I say effective summary, I mean a summary that will tell people the basic premise of the plot while also making them want to learn more. I don't mean something fancy. I mean something like:

When Blorbo started his new tech development job at Tumblr, he never expected to have Blorbette for a boss. She is smart, cold, calculating - and, to his horror, totally irresistible. In order to win her heart, he decides to make her jealous by fake-dating his colleague and frenemy, Blorbinson. But he soon finds that there is more to his mysterious friend than meets the eye. Could it be that the real Tumblr sexyman has been next to him all along?

That's a pretty standard summary for a relatively long fic. It's nothing fancy, but it tells the reader what the story's about. Now this same summary, in the hands of someone who refuses to inform the reader about the premise of the story, would probably say something like:

His eyes are the color of spring.

You can get away with that kind of stuff more often in a one-shot, but best practice is always to tell your reader what the story is about. Say to your reader:

Blorbinson's eyes are too easy to get lost in. Blorbo cannot find his way out.

If you MUST include a quote from your story, then do it alongside your informative summary, in the much-loved format below:

"What do you mean Welcome to Nightvale is winning the contest?" --- In which things get heated at Tumblr dot com, and Blorbinson's the one making Blorbo get all sweaty.

I can already hear you arguing. You say to me, "But there are people who choose quotes that are both pretty AND informative! But writing anything is better than writing nothing in the summary!"

True. My response to the first point is this: if you had mastered that skill, you wouldn't be here. A simple, to-the-point-summary is almost never going to make the interested reader scroll past your story. You know what will? An out-of-context block of text about how much Sans Undertale loves the player from chapter 3, paragraph six.

To the second point, I say: obviously. This doesn't mean that you shouldn't seek to improve. No one is perfect. I'm certainly not. But you're doing yourself a disservice by spending so much time and effort on the content of your story and then fumbling it on the home stretch. If you take pride in your work (and I'm assuming you do, because you posted this story for a reason), then make like a chef at a five-star restaurant and start caring about presentation. It goes without saying that there shouldn't be any typos in the summary.

A note on tagging: I will make a separate post on tagging your stories appropriately. This is a writing-related rant.

Now, onto characterization:

If you're one of those people who thinks that there's no such thing as "too OOC," congratulations. May you enjoy fanfiction free from the shackles of the narrative. Tag appropriately and have fun. If you're like the rest of us haters, you probably want to keep your characters as faithful to canon as possible. Yes, even in an AU.

I've included this wonderful addition because entryn17 said it better than I ever could have. There's difference of interpretation, and then there's Severus Snape deciding that James Potter was actually just misunderstood.

Being "in-character" is an elusive ideal that we all strive for, but no one can quite tell you what it means except for "the vibes." The way I like to define it is this: If you asked yourself the question "Would He Fucking Say That/Do That/Feel That?" and the answer is "yes, absolutely," then it's in-character. If the answer is "absolutely not," then it's out of character. If the answer is "maybe?" then your goal is to move that needle firmly into the Yes camp.

To do this, you must first determine what is making you unsure. Is it the dialogue? Is your stuffy Edwardian speaking like a Gen Alpha well-versed in Cocomelonese? Is your overconfident flirt stammering and stuttering through a conversation? Often, the content of what a character is saying agrees perfectly with the source material, but the how doesn't match it. Beta readers can help with this, as can going back to the source material to study a character's speech patterns in canon. You don't have to get it perfect. Just make sure it doesn't stand out. Would Snape perhaps say "Come over here!" in a much wordier, snarkier manner? Maybe. Maybe not. But he sure as hell wouldn't say, "Yo! bring your ass over and check this out!"

Actions and feelings are a bit trickier. There's always some leeway in personal interpretation here, and most of the time your reader won't question this very much so long as the rest of the story keeps them engaged. One OOC action or thought is easy to brush off. Ten, not so much. Read up on the wiki pages for whatever you're writing, go back to the source material, and maybe get the opinion of a willing beta reader. Ultimately, if your characters start feeling like featureless puppets subject to your whims rather than people with established personalities, you might want to go back and revisit what made them stand out to you in the first place.

Keep things consistent within your story. Especially in AUs and canon divergence fics, there are certain character traits that are malleable. Maybe Draco Malfoy wouldn't have been such a dickhead if he'd had caring adult mentors in his life. So, justify that within your story. You don't necessarily need to keep the characterization faithful to the canon, but you do need to convince the reader that their beloved character has a reason for their behavior. Keep things consistent. Whenever a character deviates from their canon behavior, make sure there's a valid explanation for it in your narrative.

Don't fall for the trap of confusing canon and fanon. Fandom is like a game of telephone. Someone writes one story of Blorbo adopting a cat, and suddenly he's the biggest cat person in the universe. The poor author who posts about Blorbo's canonical love of dogs gets trashed for writing OOC. You can't prevent people getting mad at you, but you can always grin smugly and go to bed happy with the knowledge that you were right. Someone will love you for it.

SPAG

Ew! It sounds like something your dog spit up. Spelling and Grammar might be boring, but they're necessary. You shouldn't break the rules until you know the rules. One day, you will write a run-on postmodern epic to rival the worst of Wallace's page-long sentences. Today is not that day. No one wants to open a story only to be greeted by a massive block of text, a lack of punctuation, and a heretofore undiscovered form of there/they're/their.

In the modern age, we have many tools at our disposal to clarify our SPAG doubts. Dictionaries! Spellcheck! The weirdos on those Substack forums! Oh, my. If you wrote your story at 3AM directly onto the ao3 editor, perhaps take a moment to run it through some kind of spellchecker before posting. Microsoft Word has a pretty good one, but Grammarly and other such software can help you if that's not available. There's also nothing quite like a beta reader. There are people in this world who love picking apart every comma, period, and quotation mark, and they'll be happy to do it for you. I am one of them, and I volunteer. There are many of us.

Here are some SPAG mistakes common in fanfiction.

1.Your/you're, they're/their/there, "could of," and "lie" vs "lay."

"YOUR" means that something is yours. You possess that thing. YOUR story is going to be great if you fix the grammar. "YOU'RE" is a contracted form of "YOU ARE." If you fix your grammar, YOU'RE going to be a great writer.

They're: Shortened form of "they are." They're going to the beach. They're very nice people.

Their: They possess a thing. A thing belongs to them. They're going to the beach in THEIR car.

There: Related to a place. You are going to be THERE. THERE are many pretty horses in the field.

"Could of" does not exist. It is an incorrect way of writing "could've," the shortened form of "could have."

The verbs lie and lay are tricky ones. You (a person) LIE down on your bed. You LAY an object down on a surface. However, the past tense of LIE is LAY. I know! Who invented English, am I right? Blorbo LIES on his bed in the present tense. He LAY on his bed in the past.

The past tense of "lay" is "laid." Blorbo LAID down his water bottle.

2. Run-on sentences.

Sometimes, when we're writing, we get a little excited. We have so many thoughts and we never know how to end them. You might think the solution here is to just keep throwing down commas, but you'd be wrong.

Run-on sentences can be effective if used intentionally, but a lot of the time, they're not. The period isn't your enemy. In general, you want to make sure your sentences have a subject, a verb, and an object, and that they end when you've finished your thought.

Blorbo was the most beautiful of all the tumblr sexymen. He really liked to show off his sick gains at the gym. He had a hot wife and an even hotter side piece.

This writing isn't very exciting, but it's correct. Contrast that with:

Blorbo was the most beautiful of all the tumblr sexymen, he really liked to show off his sick gains at the gym, he had a hot wife and an even hotter side piece.

Finish your thoughts. There are ways to connect independent clauses (a group of words that can work on its own as a sentence) correctly, like the semicolon; the semicolon is a great piece of punctuation. There is also the em-dash. Sometimes, you really need to add clarification to a thought — you really want to emphasize the second part of what you're saying. Em-dashes also work like a cooler version of parentheses — because who uses those, am I right? — and can help you seem like a chic and seasoned writer. Don't overuse them, though. I know you want to. And no, I don't heed my own advice here.

Look, these rules aren't intuitive. I can't possibly go through all of them in a way that's easy and digestible. There are smarter people than me who have written all about it, and I use incorrect punctuation all the time. Misplacing a comma isn't going to be the end of the world for your story, but at least give it a once-over with a beta or spellchecker to fix the worst of it. At the very least, make the reader think that run-on sentence was totally on purpose.

3. Paragraphs

Make sure your paragraphs stick to a single theme or thought. Fanfiction writers love to have one-sentence paragraphs for the impact, but you don't need to do that. Just keep them coherent. For example, if you're writing about Blorbo's weekend, you might say,

Blorbo loved Saturdays. On Saturdays, the world seemed to sparkle and sing with the whole of the city's shared happiness over not having to work. He would wake up on those mornings and leap out of bed while singing a jaunty little tune. Then, he'd text Blorbinson a string of heart emojis and plan to meet up for their weekly ice cream date. But Sundays — oh, how he hated Sundays! Sundays were the day before Monday, and he'd always spend so long worrying about going back to the office that, by the time he decided to do something, it would be dark outside already.

Each of the paragraphs above, clumsy as they are, have a clear idea that starts and ends within the same paragraph. If you talk about Blorbo's Saturday, Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday all within one paragraph, your reader will be confused!

On the other hand, if you make every single paragraph one line, your reader is going to resent you. You have unwittingly made them take part in a bad action thriller. One-line paragraphs are supposed to be impactful and create suspense. When writing, a good tip is to consider the word "impactful" a synonym of "sparing." See below:

Blorbo loved Saturdays. On Saturdays, the world seemed to sparkle and sing with the whole of the city's shared happiness over not having to work. He would wake up on those mornings and leap out of bed while singing a jaunty little tune. Then, he'd text Blorbinson a string of heart emojis and plan to meet up for their weekly ice cream date.

Doesn't it suck? Not to mention all that scrolling!

3. Dialogue

Right off the bat, I'll say that the best way to learn how to format dialogue is by reading books. Not fanfiction. BOOKS. They have been checked by an editor, so you know you're getting the real deal. Generally, well-formatted dialogue achieves an engaging and seamless conversation between your characters. Poorly-formatted dialogue forces your reader into a game of Who's Who?

See for, instance, the following abomination:

"I can't believe you cheated on me with Blorbette!" Blorbo had been crying about it for a week. His tears would soon erode a riverbank down his cheeks. Blorbinson sneered at him, "I can't believe you ever thought this was real." "I was only with you for the tax benefits." No! How could you? Blorbo said. Blorbinson laughed a wicked laugh and looked at him. "My heart is shattered into a million tiny pieces. Love isn't real!"

Did you follow that? Because I sure didn't. Generally, here are the rules of dialogue:

Start a new line for each character that speaks, and keep a single character's dialogue within the same paragraph.*

Use dialogue tags to CLARIFY who is speaking. Note: I said clarify. If it's redundant take it out. I will write more about good (not merely correct) dialogue in a follow-up post.

Put a period after or before an ACTION tag in dialogue, but a comma before a SPEECH tag. The reason you do this is that ["Here is an example line of dialogue," he said] is a complete sentence, but ["Here is an example line of dialogue." He looked at his watch.] is TWO sentences. The quotation marks are merely to indicate speech. Whether or not something is a sentence is determined by the content of what the writing actually says, not by any punctuation it may have.

Use quotation marks to indicate speech. If you want to quote something within quotation marks (in American English), you put it in single quotes, like so: "And then he called me 'a lost cause who's doomed to be single forever.' Can you believe that?"

By following these rules, we get the much nicer:

"I can't believe you cheated on me with Blorbette!" Blorbo had been crying about it for a week. His tears would soon erode a riverbank down his cheeks. Blorbinson sneered at him. "I can't believe you ever thought this was real. I was only with you for the tax benefits." "No! How could you?" Blorbinson only laughed a wicked laugh. "My heart is shattered into a million tiny pieces. Love isn't real!" Blorbo said.

Obviously that's still pretty bad, but now it's readable. Formatting your dialogue properly will fix a lot of problems with your story, make it clear who is talking, and make the reading experience much nicer for everyone.

* An Important addendum: sometimes, characters will speak for a long time, and you'll want to split up their dialogue into paragraphs. To do that, you start the dialogue in quotation marks, but you leave them open until the character is done speaking, like so:

"My favorite thing about Blorbinson was that he always knew just what to say. He had this magical ability to always tell when I was sad, and he showed up with ice cream every single time. It always made me feel better," Blorbo said. "I can't believe our relationship is over now. I should probably tell you all about how that happened. "I walked into my house one day to find another pair of shoes by the door, where Blorbinson's usually are. I knew Blorbinson would never wear those shoes, because his style is more boho-inspired. Anyway, my worst fear was confirmed when I walked into the bedroom and found him there with Blorbette! My two loves, betraying me so callously!"

This is common in fantasy stories where you need to impart some deep lore knowledge on the reader, or for characters who like to talk a lot.

4. Verb tenses (edited after posting, in true fanfic writer fashion)

Us writers tend to have very strong opinions about verbs. You could even say things get a little bit... tense sometimes. Ok, but seriously; whether you write in past or present doesn't matter. What matters is that you keep things consistent.

Nothing takes the reader out of a fanfic faster than abrupt tense switches in the middle of the narrative. If you are writing in a specific verb tense, stick with it.

Don't say:

Blorbo is never sure what Blorbinson is thinking. He watched him chew his pencil from across the office, that beautiful face scrunched in concentration as he stares at his computer. Blorbo knows he's in love the minute Blorbinson looks back.

DO say:

Blorbo was never sure what Blorbinson was thinking. He watched him chew his pencil from across the office, that beautiful face scrunched in concentration as he stared at his computer. Blorbo knew he was in love the minute Blorbinson looked back. or Blorbo is never sure what Blorbinson is thinking. He watches him chew his pencil from across the office, that beautiful face scrunched in concentration as he stares at his computer. Blorbo knows he's in love the minute Blorbinson looks back.

When we write in past tense and we want to talk about events that happened prior to the narrative, we use the past perfect. When we write in present, we can use either simple past or past perfect. This one's kind of iffy. As you write more, you'll get a sense of what "sounds correct."

Ultimately, your choice of verb tense is personal opinion and what you feel best fits your story. Just make sure that you keep whatever you choose consistent. A beta reader can help you with this.

And that's it for Part 1!

This post dealt with some technical, basic things about fanfic that will mostly be useful to new writers. I will be going more in depth about making your prose stronger at the sentence level in Part 2, where #4 is getting an entire post. It'll probably be even longer than this one. I hope it was able to help someone!

[sirfrogsworth]

I am so confused.

Even when this lens was first released it was $850 brand new.

Does he think people aren't going to check current prices? Did he get scammed and overpay originally? Not to mention eBay gives you a suggestion for pricing.

I really wish I hadn't sold my lenses. There was a point where I had a major decline in my health and I could no longer make comedy for my main website. At the same time, my parents were getting sicker and needed more help. We were also struggling financially. I was so depressed and I was sure I'd never do photography again, so I sold most of my lenses.

We needed the money at that moment, but in the grand scheme of things, the lens money barely made a dent in our situation. Not to mention, we got a small inheritance from my grandmother soon after, so that increased my regret. It took me years of scrounging and saving to build up a collection of 5 lenses. None of them top of the line, but all of them a good value for their performance.

Thankfully I kept the lens I used to take pictures of Otis—my "puppy lens." But my ultra wide, my macro, my tele, and my portrait lens... all gone.

And now I am trying to figure out the cheapest way I can do what I want to do with photography and I'm remembering just how expensive this hobby is. But I think I need to figure this out because I have had a substantial boost in my mental health since I started taking photos again.

A good 50mm could serve several roles. I can add extension tubes for macro. It is about 75mm on an APS-C camera, which is good for portraits. The wide aperture would allow low light photography. Combined with my Otis lens, all I'd be missing is telephoto and ultra wide angle, but honestly I never did much of that anyway. Though ultra wide angle photography is probably the most fun you can have taking pictures—even if the photographic uses are rare.

I did get a Nifty Fifty for my trip to Orlando. I wanted to see if I could get away with using a $100 lens. For the price, it is surprisingly good. And it is the first lens I recommend to anyone starting photography—as almost every camera brand has its own version. But I had several issues trying to make it work for my needs.

It's not very sharp, which is actually fine for shots taken at a distance, but would be a deal breaker for product photos and macro shots which are very close up. Those require as much detail as possible, especially if you need to crop. When you are trying to show people the fine hairs on a bee's body, a soft image just isn't going to have the same impact.

It also does not nail focus consistently and it back focuses (it focuses more behind than in front). Which is a deal breaker for my efforts to use less energy. When I did my portrait shoot with Katrina, I had to do many test shots and look at them on the computer to make sure I was getting them in focus. I was going back and forth and getting up and down. In the end I had to use a smaller aperture and higher ISO to get increased depth of field. And even then the tip of her nose was soft in the photos. Not to mention the added noise from raising the ISO.

This Sigma is a wonderful lens. I'm trying to find a good deal used, but it's still out of reach for now. I have no idea what my financial future is right now and until I know for sure that my brother will release my inheritance in March, I have to be more careful with my budget.

I am going to sell all of my studio lighting gear and use those funds to help me set up a new studio upstairs. I'm hoping that will cover the new lights I will need, but I don't think it will be enough for a lens. Someone suggested a site where I can turn my yard into a dog park, so I am looking into that. I might also see if I can get some gigs restoring photos for people, but it is so difficult finding clients.

Every problem has a solution. And maybe the universe will do me a favor and keep my brother from being terrible just this once.

[kittlesandbugs]

BG3: Little Hero Characters: My Dark Urge, Nox & @sidestepping's bard TAV Hero (ty for letting me play around with her 😘) Warnings: None Word Count: 534 Summary: Just a little chat between Nox and Hero in the aftermath of a certain Bard's untimely demise...

She sits by the fire, face placid, dancing light turning pretty brown eyes amber. But there's a subtle tension in her spine, a pensive pout upturning the bow of her lips. Concern about you, you suspect. You walk up behind her, soft grass and troubled thoughts muffling the leather soles of your shoes to her sharp ears. 

"Are you afraid, little Hero?" 

She startles with a swear, more crass than the usual poetry and insults that fall from her well-tuned tongue. Your meaty hand steadies her shoulder before she can slide off the log. You hadn't intended to sneak so quietly, but you can't say her reaction doesn't give you some perverse bit of amusement. 

"Of what?" she bites back and bristles like a cornered kitten, not-so-subtlety inching away as you step over the log and settle down beside her. Even seated, you dwarf her petite form. 

"Me," you say simply. Your hands are empty, but you both know you'd need no weapon to end her fragile life. 

To her credit, she retreats no further. Her lips twist in a grimace, but the retort dies before it can leave her lips. She schools herself back into passivity, mostly. There's an agitated twitch in the tips of her pointed ears. 

"I don't have to play at night if you don't like it," she says, a placating simper in her tone and large hound brown eyes. 

You shake your head and chuckle, low and deep in your throat. You look down at your pale hands, long clean now of the tiefling bard's warm sweet lifeblood. "I don't think it was the lute that triggered it."

"Oh…" She seems surprised at that, and you feel her interest sharpen into a blade despite her dulcet gaze. You think she might feel safer now, the similarity to your victim's career no longer spelling her endangerment. "What did, then? Why did you kill Alfira?" 

In your lap, your hands flex as you try to think. But your memory between crawling into your bedroll the night before and waking soaked in a bloodbath is as blank as a fresh sheaf of parchment. You shake your head again, throbbing with a dull headache for the effort. "I honestly don't know. I wish I did."

"Does it trouble you? What you did?" 

"No," you sigh, forthright in your admission. You massage your aching temples, hoping for some relief from your near constant headache. "It troubles me that I don't know why I did it." It also troubles you have no memory to savor, but it's clear no one else feels the same joy you do about spilling blood. Some perversion of your torrid forgotten past, no doubt, and best kept to yourself. 

"Do you think it will happen again?" she asks, curious but cautious. Hopeful. You can feel her weighing if your risk is worth your protection. 

"I hope not. But I'm sure whoever is on watch will be watching me as well now." You huff an amused breath, almost certain few of them could even stop you if you wanted to do them harm. "I'd prefer there are no repeat occurrences myself."

Not any that you don't choose to commit, at least. 

[arathergrimreaper]

So, I was accosted by some self-proclaimed Christian at the laundromat, right?

Keep in mind, I was minding my business as much as I could while waiting on my clothes to dry (forwent putting my earbuds in because it was too much hassle with my journal/sketchbook, my pen case, my bag, etc. and that seems to be how strangers in public fucking GET you so I will cease forgoing forthwith). She just comes up to me and hands me a card with her church and a QR code on it that, according to her, leads to "an important video" I just have to see. Mutuals, followers, cunt-rymen, when I say I never wished to have pyrokinetic abilities to be able to set it on fire in my hand more than at that moment....

Now, idk what tipped her off that I am one of those damned souls she's been indoctrinated to go after rather than doing anything actually fucking useful for the world (i mean, there are several genocides happening at the moment, pick one to help stop, why dontcha?). It might have been my lanyard which is rainbow, or my colored hair/piercings/tattoo, or the fact I was drawing gay aliens kissing but she just wanders over and politely...begins grilling me about where I live, where I work, how old I am, the afterlife, what I believe, if I think of myself as a good person, what would make me want to come to her church, etc (i did not tell her most of these things in any detail and it genuinely bothered me that she was asking. like I got warning bells about the fact she was asking).

Y'all already know what my queer, Pagan witch ass is about. I fucks with y'all. She had no idea, but all the audacity, apparently. Unfortunately, I still had 15 mins on my damn clothes so I had to play nice until I could leave.

She was genuinely surprised when I told her I don't consider myself a good person, nor really care all that much about the afterlife, including if there's a Hell or not. That I don't think you have to be a good person to do good things either. In Hellenic Polytheism, most people don't go to a paradise when they die. Or to Tartarus, unless they truly screwed the pooch somewhere. Elysium is meant for only the most impressive mortals, not necessarily what we would consider "good" in modern times. Heroes and demigods and the like. So, I don't subscribe to getting something necessarily better than this life after I die either. Said I would just be happy as long as there's no capitalism I have to live under when I die. She said 'I don't even know what capitalism is...'. That's when I knew, for certain, I didn't owe her a single damn explanation and started treating it like an interview upon receiving some kind of writing award or something.

She still kept trying to imply that I wasn't taking the threat of Hell seriously, but I also wasn't taking her seriously either. Woman is a teacher! Of little tots! Hope they tie her up with a jump rope on a spindly chair and wheel her ass into the closet. This who is shaping young minds and people really believe that crap about the old bigots dying off--they have already passed their bullshit on and it's running, footloose and fancy-free. Now, I honestly wish I hadn't held back about how much I hope I go to Hell just to beat the fuck outta Reagan.

I have not been able to stop thinking about this interaction and getting mad all over again, guys. Just mad that there are people like that in the world who would come up to anyone and start a theological debate when they aren't causing them a lick of harm. Someone who don't know shit about shit but wants to try and tell me what I should prioritize. People like this are running our country and making up our laws.

We were, like, the biggest mistake.

[randoimago]

Request:

Seteth, Shamir, Ignatz & Ingrid notice a crowd of people forming a ring around something. Becoming curious, they decide to walk over & check out what everyone's looking at, only to find their S/O in the middle, doing some VERY painful-looking contortionist poses with absolutely no difficulty whatsoever.

(They had no idea their S/O was a contortionist, just so there's no confusion in what I'm asking)

Learning that S/O is a Contortionist

Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses

Character(s): Ingrid, Seteth, Shamir

Type of Request: Headcanons

Note(s): Contortionist are crazy and I love them, I hope they never get any cramps. Contortionism (?) is just so wild and just watching it hurts

Ingrid

Honestly was very curious with the sudden crowd. She was trying to do some shopping and now there was people in the way. Doesn't even think about being annoyed because she very much wants to see what's happening.

And then she gets closer and has to hold in a gasp when she sees you literally bending over backwards and moving your upper body between your legs, yet still keeping balance.

There are a thousand questions running through her mind at seeing you like this. The first is if you're okay, but judging by the smile on your face you seem fine.

As much as Ingrid wants to stay and watch, she still has things to do. She does do her best to make eye contact with you - which is pretty difficult since your poses make it so she'd have to crouch to get your attention - but she tries to get your attention just so you know she saw so hopefully when you're done you'll find her to talk.

Seteth

With how long Seteth has lived, he's seen many different types of performances. He's seen people juggling fire, he's seen circus's with elephants balancing on giant balls (which he tried to explain the trick to Flayn, but she kept shushing him).

Seteth has seen some contortionists in his time, but that doesn't stop the surprise when he sees you it's you doing the performing.

He had wanted to talk to you about something or other, but it ended up leaving his mind when he joined the crowd gathered around you. Some people were throwing some coin to tip you for your performing and that gave Seteth some amusement, but he mostly stayed silent.

Is a tad upset that you didn't share this talent with him before. This is something that is very interesting and he knows you put so much work to pull off some of these bends and stretches. But he doesn't want to scold you and instead gives you a smile should your eyes connected and continues to watch.

Shamir

While she hasn't lived long enough to see a bunch of things like Seteth, she's still well traveled and so she's seen many things thanks to that.

Shamir is perceptive and so she caught on to you being more flexible than most, she just didn't realize how flexible until she ended up being pulled along by Catherine to the group of people watching some performance in town.

Does raise an eyebrow as she watches you bend and perform. She couldn't decide if some of your bending made her wince in pain or fill with envy because she really could use some good stretching.

Shamir doesn't linger in the crowd long, this is a talent you have that you didn't tell her about so she figures there might be a reason it hadn't come up. So she's not going to let you see that she saw so you can bring it up when you wish to.

[the-diabolist]

Lawrence in the gameroom with the hunting knife (maybe Ren as his “accomplice”? If you don’t allow Ren for these, please ignore.)

Kinktober 2022, day 10 - I don't usually write for Ren, but I made an exception this time, and I'm glad I did! I'll probably continue this at some point, but it was getting too long and I've still got other writing to do.

c.w: fem reader, threesome (more or less), voyeurism, first time, a bit of corruption for flavor, Ren calls the shots. 1.1k

You admit it was probably a bad idea to go home with them after leaving the bar, but you like them a lot - especially the blonde one - and honestly it was about time you did something about that pesky virginity of yours anyway, right? You feel ready, and Lawrence seems like he'd be really sweet and gentle about it.

So, when you'd all decided to go back to Ren's house, your motives were decidedly ulterior.

You wish Lawrence would have offered up his place, though. It's hard enough trying to make a move when you don't really know what you're doing; it's even tougher when the other person is an anxious mess themselves and there's a third party hanging around that you're not sure how to ditch.

Which is why, half an hour later, you're all sitting around Ren's comfortable living room (how does he afford this place, anyway? Nice house in an upper class neighborhood? Is he some kind of tech genius or something?) playing a lackluster game of Chutes and Ladders.

At least until Ren clears his throat and speaks up.

"Well, if neither of you are brave enough to make a move, I guess I will," he says with mild irritation. "Kiss her already, Law."

Lawrence flushes pink and fumbles his game piece, almost knocking over your glass of water in the process.

"Who - who says I - " he mutters, stumbling, "and - and, she, uh, probably doesn't even want - "

Ren rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, I do, actually," you somehow find the courage to say. Ren's ears perk up in surprise. Clearly he didn't think you had the nerve. And, while you're still hoping to get Lawrence to yourself, you can't deny the little jolt of arousal you'd felt when the other man had ordered him to kiss you.

Lawrence's flush darkens as a tiny "oh" falls from his lips. He looks from you to his friend and back, then swallows hard, seemingly at a loss for where to start.

"Ugh, you then," Ren says imperiously, looking at you, "start the kissing. I'm bored."

You glance at Lawrence; he doesn't look opposed. So, with only a moment's hesitation, you cross over to the couch both men are seated on before kneeling in front of the blonde, between his knees.

"Want to?" you ask, nervously biting your lower lip as you look up at him. It must be quite a sight, because you can practically see his soul leave his body for a second - but it comes back, and he nods slightly before leaning closer.

You're the one to close the distance, bringing your lips together. After a moment, you start to think you probably have more kissing experience than he does... at least, that's how it seems.

"Too chaste," Ren complains from the couch cushion next to you (you hadn't noticed him move closer), "use some tongue."

You follow his order without thinking, softly running the tip of your tongue over Lawrence's lower lip. He groans and opens his mouth, granting you access, which you take. You're still doing about 80% of the kissing; his movements are tentative and soft, barely there.

"You're doing fine, Law," he assures the other man, "you can touch her. She said she wanted you, remember?"

And suddenly you no longer want Ren to leave. You were already on the fence - the way he's directing your encounter is actually very hot - but the fact that he's apparently able to spur his friend into action with just a few words is the deciding factor.

Lawrence's hands surge over you, fingers slipping into your hair and cupping your jaw, pulling you closer, kissing you like he's trying to devour you.

"Much better," Ren purrs. He sounds... different, like he's now affected by the proceedings rather than just being a distant observer. He sounds aroused. "He can reach you better if you climb into his lap," he tells you, and you're hopping up almost before he's done speaking, vaulting into Lawrence's newly-voracious arms and straddling his legs.

His hands roam, squeezing your thighs, sliding up your chest, circling your throat. He breaks contact with your lips to trail hot kisses down your neck, over your collarbones - when he reaches the neckline of your shirt, he breathes a noise of complaint.

"Well take it off of her, then," Ren instructs, and Lawrence obeys, slipping his fingers under your hem and lifting. You help him pull it over your head. He groans again at the sight of your breasts, snugly contained in your lacy bra. His hands cup and squeeze as his lips trail across all the bare skin he can reach, kisses messy and starved.

The fingers that reach behind you to undo the hook-and-eye closure between your shoulderblades aren't his, but suddenly your bra is loose, cups slackening. Lawrence rips it away with a strangled noise, and you're only a little self-conscious about it. This is what you were planning, after all, and you think you need him to keep touching your skin more than you need to breathe.

"You're welcome, Law," Ren says; his nails trail down your spine as Lawrence becomes preoccupied by your bare breasts - fondling, squeezing, rubbing your nipples with the pads of his thumbs. You moan when he leans forward to take one in his mouth. Running on autopilot, you grind down into his lap, only to get a feel of how hard he is. 

"Get back on the floor and lay down," Ren whispers in your ear, then nips at your lobe, sending a pleasant jolt through you.

Extracting yourself from Lawrence's grip isn't easy, but you manage it, and lay back on the carpet. "Pants off," he says to the room at large, and both of you scramble to comply. You go a step further and remove your underwear while you're at it, batting away the butterflies in your stomach. This isn't how you expected this to go, but you're not complaining.

You part your legs as Lawrence climbs between them at the behest of Ren, who finds a new place to sit that gives him a good angle on you.

"Take it easy on him," he says to you, winking, "it's his first time."

"Oh - mine too," you breathe. Lawrence's eyes widen briefly before going soft and hazy; Ren laughs.

"We're popping two cherries tonight?? You're kidding! I told you she was perfect, Law."

He just nods as Ren cackles. You cup his jaw, bringing him in for a kiss to steady your nerves.

"Well, get going," Ren prompts, "those v-cards aren't going to lose themselves. Besides," he muses, "I want my turn sometime today."