#well I can but I'll face the consequences
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butnobodycame627 · 1 year ago
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hhhhhhh I can't have nice things
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 2 months ago
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hope you feel better soon!
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I am riddled with ailments, but I stay silly!
#ask#non mdzs#My health journey has been: Hernia -> acid reflux -> Vocal pain due to aforementioned reflux -> chest infection.#I'm terrified to know what's about to hit me next. Please let it be something kind. PLEASE.#The consequence of living with linguists is that you'll wake up with a wacked up voice -#suddenly you're sitting you down in front of a program called something like Praat having your shimmer and jitter levels calibrated.#They gave me a GRBAS of 33012. I have a fun thing called a pitch break where a whole octave just does not exist.#My vocal pain was bad enough I ended up seeing a speech pathologist and that whole experience was super neat!#I learnt a lot about voice - to be honest I might make a little comic on it after some more research. Fascinating stuff.#For example; your mental perception of our voice modulates the muscles of the vocal folds and larynx.#meaning that when you do have changes (inflammation = more mass = lower frequency)#your brain automatically attempts to correct it to what it 'should sound like'. Leading to a lot more vocal strain and damage!#And it gets really interesting for trans voice care as well - because the mental perception of one's voice isn't based on an existing sampl#So a good chunk of trans voice training is also done with the idea of finding one's voice and retraining the brain to accept it. Neat!#Parkinsonial Voice also has this perception to musculature link! The perception is that they are talking at a loud/normal volume#but the actual voice is quite breathy and weak. So vocal training works on practicing putting more effort into the voice#and retraining the brain to accept the 'loud' voice as 'normal'.#Isn't the human body fascinating?#Anyhow; Now I have vocal exercises and strategies to reduce strain and promote healing.#Which is a lot better than my previous strategy of yelling AAAH in my car until my 'voice smoothed out'.#You can imagine the horror on the speech path's face. I am an informed creature now.#I'm my own little lab rat now. I love learning and researching. Welcome to my tag lab. Class is dismissed.#I'll be back later with a few more answered asks </3 despite everything I'm still going to work and I need the extra sleep.#Thank you for the well wishes! And if you read all of that info dump; thank you for that as well!
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bitegore · 6 months ago
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quite possibly the most objectively twisted thing ive ever done is write a character who is like deeply brainwashed and still in the same situation he got brainwashed in in the first place and he ended up there entirely against his will and it was deeply miserable for years but now he's like no this is my life ^-^ i like it here ^-^ yeah yeah the suffering anyway if you try to make me leave i'll get mad at you ^-^ and then the end of his story is just that he gets to stay there until he dies
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qazastra · 2 years ago
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actually can i complain about my boss again.
apparently he only wants to have one experienced person on a training shift from now on. one person to train the entirely new worker how to work at our cafe. because "labor costs are through the roof." are you
are you fucking with meeee FUCK WITH MEEEEEE YOU PAY US MINIMUM WAGE YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO COMPLAIN ABOUT THIS
hes just simply not going to have people who know what to do then!!!!! bitch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 5 months ago
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katsuki is and forever will be a massive baby.
and it’s all your damn fault, so he says.
you hadn’t even said anything bad. all you'd said was that he looked even more handsome today then he usually did. and he'd looked at you like you grew an extra head, and now he's like this.
you don't even really know what did it, but then again it could've been anything with katsuki. too much eye contact, too long eye contact. your hands lingering a little too long on his face or your fingers rubbing at the crease of his eyebrows.
you don't know what it is but he won't remove his head from your neck now, grumbling about how stupid you are.
"katsukii.."
"shut up." he hisses through gritted teeth like he's angry, and he is. look at what you do to him ! it drives him crazy. you drive him crazy.
yet you giggle, rubbing softly at his hair and he shoves his head into you harder, the angle he's forcing your neck at is awkward but you don't mind, you'll let him have his little tantrum as you stroke his blonde messy tufts of hair tickling your chin.
"all i said was that-"
"i heard you. the first time. shut the fuck up." his grip on your hips tightens to the point you think he'll make indents in your skin. hands practically steaming and boiling hot to show you the embarrassment he refuses to let show on his face. your smirk grows wider, god you love messing with your boyfriend.
"i don't get why you're so angry, baby." you coo sweetly and he growls from the deepest part of his throat. he squeezes at your waist, clearly wanting you to just stop talking. but of course. you don't.
"it's cus you—you fuckin'—" he splutters and cuts himself off, not finding a proper way to convey how much you make his skin burn and prickle and itch. how you have his heart buzz and beat so loud against his ribcage he's sure you can hear it. and how much he fucking hates it. (he doesn't)
so he does the next best thing.
"ouch !"
he bites you. the asshole.
you're such an asshat !" you whine, pushing at his shoulders, and he grumbles when he pulls away. he lightly nuzzles against the mark he's left into your skin as a sort of apology, you don't deserve a kiss right now. (he'll give you one later) then he pulls away to look at you.
"s'your own fault," he huffs, cheeks less bright then they first were when you'd made the irreparable mistake of complimenting him (in his eyes, you regret nothing) but still with a nasty scowl on his face.
"ya keep sayin' dumb shit so now you deal with the consequences," he presses his nose against your pulse point as he huffs hard into your neck to annoy you and it works because you grumble, you feel him smirk proudly.
two could play that game.
"what dumb shit ? the fact that you're handso-" you cut yourself off with a giggled squeal as katsuki drops you backwards onto his bed with a snarl. you snort and giggle when he blows raspberries and softly bites into your neck, helplessly trying to push him away with your limp arms.
"you just can't help yourself, can ya.." he tuts, grabbing your arms and pushing them against his bed, barely suppressed smirk on his face as he sees your eyes prick with tears, leaning back in to blow into your neck "think you’re funny ? hah ?!"
he ignores your giggled plea's and bites at your fingers when he leans back enough for you to push at his face.
"yuck ! you're gross !" you wheeze, still giggling as you see the lopsided smile on his face. he huffs at the exertion of keeping you still, he really isn't trying hard to convince you he isn't handsome when he looked like that.
"yeah ? i'm gross, huh ? right back at you," he leans in close to you again, smirk still playing on his face "saying mushy shit like that."
"yeah well, i'll keep sayin' it !" you retort, sticking your tongue out at him. he rolls his eyes and drops onto you, causing you to grunt out an 'oof !' sound. he's stays quiet until he presses a soft kiss onto your skin, right where he'd bitten you. unbeknownst to you, his expression softens as he tries to repress a smile. he scoffs.
"you're so damn weird." he utters affectionately.
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candy69gurl · 9 months ago
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can you do hybrid! Wolf toji claiming you during his rut?
THE HOWL OF DESIRE
Hybrid! Wolf toji x f!reader
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Warnings- 18+, dark, slight non/con (Toji does not intend to harm you), size kink (both are adults), cave sex, multiple orgasms, nipple biting & play, fingering (Toji has black big nails), raw sex (cumming inside many times), breeding, pussy eating
wc - 2.6k
ART NOT MINE !
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As you traverse through the dense woods, you find yourself getting increasingly disoriented, unsure of which way leads back to civilization. The sun's rays barely penetrating the thick canopy above, casting eerie shadows on the forest floor. You begin to worry, knowing that spending the night here could lead to dangerous consequences.
Suddenly, your senses pick up on the sound of rustling leaves nearby. You freeze, trying to discern whether it is an animal or something more sinister.
A figure emerges from behind a tree, and you gasp involuntarily. It is a creature of height 6'1ft, he appears as a magnificent wolf-human hybrid. He is slender but muscular and athletic, and his wolfish aura makes him look intimidating. As he closes on your position you notice his ears flattened on his head and his tail is pointed upright, his body has chiseled muscles and trademark scars, his green sword-like eyes looking through your soul. His mouth bore fang-like teeth that you swear are more vicious than natural canine teeth of humans.
His eyes lock onto yours, a mixture of hunger and desire burning within their depths.
"Hello, human," he growls softly, his voice tinged with an animalistic quality. "Lost, are we? Well, I don't normally go for humans, but you seem intriguing enough."
As you stand frozen in fear and confusion, Toji takes a step closer, his form shifting slightly, the wolf aspects becoming more pronounced. His eyes gleam with lust, and you can faintly smell his pheromones in the air – a testament to his overwhelming need to mate. "Ah finally," he says, taking another step toward you. "It's just my rut, and I need a mate to breed with. Normally, I wouldn't ask a human, but I cannot wait anymore."
His voice is calm, almost soothing despite the terrifying situation. Your heart races as you contemplate your options, but you realize that running might only agitate him further. Nonetheless your legs unconsciously start to move. There is only one way to get out of this- by running.
"So," he continues, his back facing you but when he turns to you, he sees you running, " What's a prey if they don't try running".
With a grin spreading across his face, Toji starts running after you, muscles rippling as he leaps after you. His movements are fluid and quick, darting through the trees with ease. You feel your adrenaline surge, pushing your speed to its limit as you navigate the unfamiliar terrain. However, he seems to know these woods intimately, and your panic increases as you realize you're unable to shake him off.
"Caught you little bunny" he exclaims, grabbing your neck. Despite his triumphant words, there's a hint of concern in his eyes. He pauses, contemplating his next move. "Running isn't going to solve anything, and believe me, you don't want to get hurt.. Or do you?"
"P-please let me go.. I have to get back home."
Toji weighs your plea, his gaze lingering on you thoughtfully. His need for release is urgent, but he doesn't wish to harm you unnecessarily. "I can let you go, but I'm afraid you won't find your way back alone." His voice holds a note of genuine concern, his eyes softening momentarily.
Then, his expression shifts, the wolfish hunger returning. "But," he adds, "If you agree to stay and help alleviate my… condition, I promise to guide you safely back to where you belong. You won't regret it, trust me." He leans close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, "I'll make sure you enjoy it too."
You stand there, contemplating your options. The thought of being alone in these woods, possibly lost for another night, is daunting. On the other hand, submitting to Toji's demands is equally terrifying, but there's a strange allure to it as well. His promise of safety and pleasure seems almost too good to be true.
As you weigh the pros and cons, Toji watches you intently, his eyes never leaving yours. He can sense your hesitation, and it fuels his desire even more. "I understand if you're scared," he says softly, reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "But I promise, I won't hurt you. I just need someone to share this with, and you seem like the perfect one."
His touch is warm and comforting, despite the situation. You can't help but feel a strange sense of comfort in his presence, as if he truly means what he says. "So, what do you say?" he asks, his voice low and seductive. "Will you help me, and let me help you in return?"
"O-only if you promise to be gentle..", you reply, your voice shaking from his intimidating aura.
Toji's eyes crinkle at the corners, a rare smile gracing his features. "Gentle it is," he assures you, his grip on your cheek gentle but firm. "I can't promise but I will try since you are my first human mate.. Come, let's find a suitable spot. We don't want to draw attention, do we?" His voice is smooth, radiating confidence and control. You hesitate, but there's a sense of safety in his presence that you can't deny.
With a deep breath, you take his hand, allowing him to lead you deeper into the woods. The fear is still there, but it's tempered by a growing curiosity. You're stepping into unknown territory, but for some reason, you don't feel threatened. Instead, there's a strange excitement coursing through you, making your heart beat faster.
As you follow Toji deeper into the woods, you begin to notice subtle changes in the landscape. Brambles part before you, revealing a hidden trail leading to a small clearing. In the center of the clearing lies a cave, half-hidden by the surrounding foliage. This is where Toji leads you, guiding you inside with a gentle push.
The cave is surprisingly cozy, lit by the dim light seeping through the entrance. There's a palpable sense of warmth and security, and you can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. Toji observes your reaction, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"This is my den," he explains, gesturing around. "Now, shall we proceed?" He tilts his head, his eyes holding a mix of anticipation and expectation. You can tell that his rut is still strong, but he's patiently waiting for your lead.
Your nod sends a wave of excitement through Toji, his eyes glinting with eagerness.. He quickly steps closer, nearly ripping your pants and panties off. He hovers over you, his eyes locked on yours as he positions himself between your thighs.
Surprised by his sudden movement, you struggle in his grip, "W-wait you need to loosen me up"
Toji pauses, confusion clouding his features for a brief moment. "Loosen you up?" he repeats, his voice heavy with confusion. Then, understanding dawns on his face, and he chuckles softly. "Tsk, I can wait no more but fine since you beg me so obediently", moving between your legs. He gently parts you with his fingers, feeling your dampness.
"You're already prepared," he murmurs, a note of approval in his voice.
"Ah~", your back arches at his finger movements, your back hitting the ground of the cave.
At your response, Toji's eyes darken with lust. He thrusts his fingers into you roughly. "Are ya loose yet?" His eyes remain locked on yours, his expression a mix of impatience and excitement.
"n-no not yet.. a-ah", your voice cracks up in pleasure.
Toji's eyes narrow, his brows furrowing in concentration. He inserts a third finger, thrusting harder this time, stretching you wider. You cry out, a mixture of pleasure and pain washing over you as you near your edge.
"Humans are so responsive..." he mutters, his voice thick with desire as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. His eyes never leave yours, the intensity between you and him building, is only heightened by the dim light of the cave.
Finally, after several more thrusts, you reach your orgasm and he withdraws his fingers, a satisfied smirk gracing his lips. "Ready?" He asks, his gaze locked on your face, waiting for your answer.
"mghh.. n-not now.. I need sometime.. I am sensitive right now", you protest.
Toji's eyes squint in annoyance "Shut up, I have been patient enough. I can't wait any longer."
With that, he positions himself between your legs again .With a sudden powerful surge, Toji thrusts into you, his giant cock stretching your poor hole wide. You gasp, your nails digging into the cave floor as you struggle to adjust to the intense sensation.
"Please.. A-ah .. be gentle"
"Shush..I am trying .. You humans are so fragile.. But", he grunts in pleasure, "ya feel so good. I never thought humans feel this good"
Though he is trying to be gentle, but your insides feel so good that he can't help but move relentlessly, his hips pumping in a primal rhythm. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure and pain through you, your body responding to his dominance.
Despite your initial protest, you can't help but moan loudly, writhing beneath him. His roughness sets you ablaze, and you find yourself meeting his thrusts eagerly. His scent, his strength - everything about this experience overwhelms you. Your body cries out for release, and you know you won't last long.
"That's it, take it!" Toji growls, his eyes locked on yours. His primal nature is on full display, and it's intoxicating.
Your toes curl up as Toji's thrusts intensify, his eyes widening at your reaction. "Fuck, you're tight," he groans, his voice thick with lust. "You feel incredible." His pace quickens, his hips slamming into you with brutal efficiency. You cry out, the cave echoing with your sounds of pleasure and pain.
His rut is nearing its peak, his body trembling with suppressed energy. With one last powerful lunge, he buries himself deep within you, filling you with his seed. "Take it all," he rasps, his breath hot against your neck.
In that moment, you surrender to the sensations, your own climax washing over you. Together, you collapse onto the cave floor, feeling spent but incredibly fulfilled. Your legs wrap around him instinctively, holding him close.
As he recovers, Toji nuzzles your neck, his breathing ragged. "I hope I was gentle enough," he murmurs, his voice filled with satisfaction.
"No .. you are so mean..", you reply panting.
Toji laughs, his chest rumbling against your throat. "Mean? Maybe, but effective, wouldn't you agree?" He teases, his grip on you tightening. "Besides, don't lie, you enjoyed it too."
He's right, you did enjoy it - despite the roughness. The intensity of the encounter left you shaken yet exhilarated. He turns you on your stomach "don't think it's over yet.. It's just a starting"
"w-what?", your pupil dilates at the though.
Toji pushes you on your stomach and he enters from behind. You moan, feeling him stretch you once again. With a smirk, he begins to thrust relentlessly, his body slamming against yours. His large hands grip your sides, holding you steady as he takes you from behind.
"We are going to do it whole night" he growls, each word punctuated by his thrusts.
You cry out, your body responding eagerly to his advances. You can't deny the pleasure surging through you. His dominance excites you, the raw intensity of his actions sending you spiraling towards another climax.
"God, you're so good," he praises, his voice thick with lust. "I could spend hours with you, sweet human."
"P-please can't no more", you plead.
Toji stills, pulling his cock out, your body shaking from oversensitiveness. "Already?" then he thrusts into you again. "I know you can handle this."
You cry out, feeling him entering you again.
Time skips, and you and he are still at it, you don't know what time it is, you don't know how many orgasms coursed through you.. The only thing you know is the pleasure you are getting from this.
Toji's eyes shine with lust, his hands firmly grasping your hips as he bounces you on his lap. Your hair falls in disarray around your face, your skin flushed from exertion. Each thrust elicits a soft moan from you, your body responding to his every command.
"Feel good?" he asks, his voice low and sultry. His eyes hold a mixture of satisfaction and hunger, his gaze never leaving your face. You nod, breathless, your nails scratching lightly at his shoulders.
"Good," he growls, increasing his pace. "I knew you'd love this." His hips buck, driving into you harder, faster. You cry out, your body reacting to his every touch.
"p-please play with my nipples too.. mhmm", your face flush with shame as you beg him to pleasure you. Unknowingly removing your hands remove your top and push up your bra, revealing your breasts with stiffening nipples.
Toji's eyes light up at your request, his hands immediately moving to your breasts. He pinches your nipples gently, then harder, eliciting a mix of pleasure and pain from you. You cry out, your body arching in response.
"You like that?" he asks, his voice thick with lust. "Is this what you wanted?"
You nod, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He leans to catch one of your bouncing tits in his mouth, licking and sucking. His fangs brush your nipples, nibbling on them gently
"f-fuck .. dont bite them.. ahhh."
Toji pulls back, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. He looks at you, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. "My apologies," he says, feigning innocence. "It seemed to please you though."
He resumes his thrusts, his movements fierce and unrestrained. His hands pinch and twist your nipples, his tongue lashing over them in turn. Each touch sends waves of pleasure-pain coursing through you, your body responding eagerly.
"I'm close," you whisper, your voice hoarse.
"Not yet," he growls, his eyes darkening. "I'm not done with you."
His words send a fresh wave of arousal coursing through you, pushing you closer to the edge. You cry out, your body writhing beneath him as he plays with your nipples, fucking you relentlessly.
"R-really can't anymore.. please let me .. let me cum", you beg him, tears falling from your cheeks.
Toji's eyes meet your teary eyes, his breath ragged.
"Don't cry little human", he licks your cheek wiping off your tears. "Then cum," he growls, his voice rough with pleasure. "Let go."
With a final, hard thrust, he drives into you, the motion perfectly synchronized with your climax. You cry out, your body shaking as you crest over the edge. He follows suit, his cock pulsing within you as he finds his own release. He growls which sounds more like a howl, as he fills your womb with his thick seed.
Exhausted, you slump against him, your breathing ragged. He holds you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively.
Soon you pass out. Toji catches you easily, his grip firm yet tender. "Awww. I wanted more though," he whispers, his voice softening, "but fine.. I have had enough fun.. I will help ya return tomorrow"
He gazes at your sleeping form, a hint of tenderness in his eyes. Despite his rough exterior, he cares for you. He wraps his big arms around you covering your fragile body, ensuring you stay warm throughout the night.
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You awaken slowly, feeling warm, wet warmth between your legs. Your eyes flutter open, landing on Toji's face, his eyes gleaming with desire as he licks your cunt. The sight is both erotic and overwhelming.
"Morning," he greets, his voice thick with lust. "How are you feeling?"
You swallow hard, your heart racing. "W-what are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" he responds, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Cleaning you up after last night's fun."
You blush, your body reacting to his touch whether you want it to or not. Your eyes squeeze shut as he licks and kisses your most intimate places.
"Mmm, you taste delicious," he murmurs, his voice vibrating against your skin. "Like sweet honey."
"H-hey you said.. you will help me return back home.."
Toji raises his head, his eyes locked on yours. "Go home?" he repeats, surprise clear in his voice. "Oh yes.. But I want to fuck you before I leave you alone for good"
Your skin is already sensitive from his licks and touches, your body ready for more. You bite your lower lip before nodding.
He grins, his eyes filled with lust. "What we waiting for then?" He quickly moves, positioning himself between your legs.
He chuckles as your walls devour his huge girth. "I love how good your taking me.. Fuck.. I'll always find you during my rut, my little bunny."
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teaboot · 2 months ago
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Sometimes at work it's not my place to tell people the things I want to say, and I find I often go home at the end of the rougher days to stand blankly in my shower and tell myself over and over what I wish I could pass on.
This accomplishes very little, and mostly just gives me a tension headache, but through it all I think I've narrowed myself down to a few solid things I'd like to tell people the most.
You can't change people. Not permanently, not for anythig. You can support them, encourage them, love them, give them tools and opportunities and resources, but you can't make them change. They can change themselves if they want to, but they have to want to, and they have to want it for themselves, because they're the only one that's certain to be with them forever.
For better or worse, you make your own choices, and blaming bad choices on others doesn't only work to absolve you of responsibility- it also robs you of control. Because if you say you only did something because I did something, then you arent only shifting blame- you're admitting that you cannot control yourself, that you cannot truly make choices for yourself, that other people can control you- and as long as you truly beleive that, you'll keep facing the same problems over and over. You'll keep letting others dictate your choices, because you'll beleive that they can, and you'll never be free.
White knights on horseback are from fairytales. Nobody can help you if ou're not willing to help yourself. To try, to put the dirty work in, to belive you're worth that effort- Act as though nobody is coming to save you. From a struggle, from pain, from bad relationships, from yourself. And when you do save yourself, because you will, because failure here isn't an option if you want to survive, you'll never find another dragon that can keep you prisoner.
Don't say anything to anyone that you wouldn't want them remembering forever.
Doing the right thing in bad circumstances is hard. It's the hardest thing. But if you make the choice to do that hard thing anyways, despite your fear, you'll go on the rest of your like knowing that you're the sort of person who did something.
The present only seems the hardest because the past I over and the future hasn't happened.
There's so much joy ahead of you, the kind you can't possibly understand until you see it yourself.
The responsibility of consequences is often disguised as the power of permission. "I won't do this if you help me", "I'll work on my anger if you do this for me", "I promised you I'd quit, but can I have just one?". The unspoken question is, "Can it be your fault if this goes badly?"
You cant make someone love you the way you need to be loved. Someone can love you very much and still be bad for you, even if you love them very much in return. Two people can love each other very, very much, and try their very best, and still be wrong for each other.
Sometimes being near to someone changes you, even in good ways, and the people you become don't fit together as well as the people you were.
Caring takes work. Even if it's real. Especially if it's real. And the most important gestures aren't the grand, poetic, songs-and-flowers-and-tears moments; they're getting out of bed even though you don't want to. Paying attention to things you don't enjoy. Scrubbing pans, or opening a window, saying "thank-you", or helping carry groceries into the house. The small things fill the big things- without the small, boring, mediocre things, big things feel hollow.
Thrre is honour and dignity in humble work.
If you are a cruel and spiteful person, then you will find every place you visit to be full of the same cruel, spiteful people. This is not because the world is as cruel as you, but because everywhere you are, you will be disliked. This is the curse that comes with being persistently cruel and spiteful.
If you are a kind and ppsitive person, you will repeatedly encounter kind and positive people, because as they grow familiar with you, they will be happier to have you near. This is the reward of being a kind and positive person.
When splitting paths with loved ones, briefly or forever, aim for your last words to always be "I love you".
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messenger-of-babel · 2 months ago
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The Call
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Summary: One little call to each of them. One big consequence. (Batfamily x sibling!reader)
Word Count: 2.9K
Notes: IM LATE AGAIN. I hope you all know that I do stay up wildly late when this happens cause I want to edit before I submit, even if some of these were pre-written (its 1:30AM RAHH). ANWAYS. Batfamily, I tried to get as many as I could but I haven't collected runs for about half the family cause I am biased towards my boys, but I am trying to be as accurate as possible when I can be and that includes those dynamics! So rest assured I am doing my research and hopefully that'll reflect soon. As usual, enjoy your daily feed and I'll enjoy my nap. Warnings just for general description of violence.
Much Love~! xx
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When Dick got the call, he was in his civilian clothes.
Dick Grayson was suit shopping, needing something for an upcoming gala. He had put it off for so long, since he wore the Nightwing suit more than any other in his closet. He had let it ring out once while he got his measurements taken, but when they called back a second time, his lips dipped into a frown. Excusing himself, he clicked the answer call button, stating his name. He hears the voice of Bruce, but in the stern tone of Batman. He doesn’t think that he's ever left a store as fast as he had that day, feet thudding on the pavement and breath cold in his chest as he hurries to his car. He unlocks it and all but throws himself into the passenger seat, lines on his face hardening. Throwing it quickly into drive he pulls out and heads in the direction of the manor.
He tries to keep himself composed, his emotional training kicking in. His fingers are tense on the steering wheel, passing over the bridge at a speed a cop would most certainly pull him over for. Even though he tries to take a deep breath, there's a burning in his sternum. It builds until it creeps into his neck, making him click his tongue uncomfortably.
The sensation is a rage he hadn't felt in a while, a fire that hadn’t burnt that intensely since he was just a boy grieving his parents’ death. It had flickered when he had heard Bruce had adopted a boy called Jason after him, sputtering to life upon hearing about his death. Yet he had grown, he had risen above it and had become a shelter for his younger, extended family. He was dependable, uncrackable, and upbeat, that was Nightwing. Yet as he drives back with that painful fire in his chest, he felt nothing more than Dick Grayson, the boy stricken with fear at the idea of losing his family.
When Jason got the call, he had been on patrol.
Helm securely on his face, it kept the drizzly night rain of Gotham out of his eyes. It had been a rather quiet night, stopping a few minor robberies and assaults that were common down by Dixon Docks. He was eager to return home, wanting to swing by the manor quickly to take full advantage of the hot water system before heading back to his apartment in Old Gotham for a well-deserved rest. He had just finished interrogating some of Penguins' men, about to call the cave to let whoever was on tonight know that they finally had the location of the new drug den they had been chasing the past month. However, the communication device he had set on his bike was lit, screen full of notifications.
Calls, one after another filled the small holographic display and he pressed the button to call back, leg swinging over the side of the bike as he did so. He had only started the bike but already he screeched to a stop, making sure he heard the words properly. A curse and gruffly shouted questions were his only response and when he got the information he wanted, he cut the call and the bike roared to life. He leant forward as if that was going to help him get to his destination quicker, blood boiling underneath his skin. His chest ached with the urge to sputter out pants, desperate to start the sign of panic racing through his veins. Yet he was stronger than that, keeping his cool like a tightly wound coil, muscles tensed beneath the suit.
His mind buzzes with worry, anxiety gnawing at his ribcage like a feral rat.
Jason doesn't often allow himself to be emotional on the job, despite his tendency for rage.
But rage was different. Rage burned and warmed him up from the inside, was the force that he put behind every punch or kick. It was his kindling, and it served to guide him as well as any star. Of course, Bruce had tempered it somewhat, but he had just guided Jason into turning it into something else, not getting rid of entirely. He used rage to protect the people of the city, the outrage he felt when he saw them get treated badly. He used rage when coming to his family's defence, the sight of hands being laid on people he had come to care for sparking it too. Those were the rages he was used to using, although there was always a third.
The pit.
The rage that bubbled away in the back of his mind, hidden behind a tall wall and shoved into the deepest part of him. That was the rage that crept forth, green and poisonous in his veins and clouding his judgement in a fog of pain and despair and anger. When it would appear, he would often take a moment to himself to pack it back away, contain it once more in the bulletproof casing of his heart. Yet right now, he didn't want to put it back. It made him rev the bike harder, made him feel like he was getting there quicker. The bike kicked up water as he zig zagged through the back streets, his mental map of Gotham rerouting anytime the traffic was longer than five cars deep. He couldn't afford to lost time, to not be fast enough. Not now, not this time, and if he had to use the rage the pit cursed him with, he would.
Tim was at the manor, holed up in his room when he got the call.
It had been a long night the night before, tossing restlessly. Not that he would have told anyone, but the last fight with Bane had left him with a few more bruises than he had let on, cleverly hidden from the keen eyes of Alfred. He wanted to nurse them himself, carry his own weight. In fact, he had been sulking in his room going over the things that had been troubling him, knees pulled to his chest.
Dick was capable and dependable, and the first Robin, the biggest shoes to fill. Jason was tenacious but loved deeply, and he fought for what was right. His methods might be unconventional to the Bat sometimes, but he knew what he wanted to fight for. Steph had flown the nest to become Spoiler, Cass already had such a firm grasp of who she wanted to become now that she was Orphan. Barbara had even been able to turn her life around after being put into her wheelchair, her desire to help leading her to become Oracle when she had to hang up Batgirl. Even Damian, the true son of Bruce Wayne, was so confident, growing at a rate he knew Bruce was quietly proud of.
But then there was Tim, who stayed up on weekends trying to redesign his suit, to carve his own vigilante life, only to look on it and see the traces of his time as Robin printed clearly on it. The role of Robin had outgrown him, but there was the shred of doubt that whispered in his ear that just maybe, he hadn't outgrown it. The ringing of his phone snapped him out of his daze, and he let it go to voicemail. When it came again, he grabbed his phone with the desire to turn it off, but seeing the emergency signal had him picking up right away.
"Hello?" he called, sitting right up in bed. His eyes widened and he shelved his pity party, running out of his room.
He winds through the halls of the manor until he finds the door he's looking for. Tim's knuckles rap against the wood loudly, repeating until a disgruntled Damian comes to the door, swinging it open violently. "This better be good, Drake." he deadpans, scanning the flustered state of the older boy. Tim just turns his phone screen, showing the emergency call signal before gesturing to the direction of the grandfather clock with his head. "We've got to go." he says curtly, the young boy hot on his heels after he recovers from his shock.
Both of them head to the cave and prepare to depart immediately. Tim slips the suit over his skin like an outgrown shedding, domino mask sliding onto his face. He couldn’t recognise his own face when he caught sight of it in the glass reflection, but a mask and suit would never be enough to hide the panic that clung to him tighter than the Red Robin suit.
When Bruce got the call, he was at Wayne Enterprises.
He was making a rare appearance at the office, knowing that Lucius had something that he wanted to talk to him about. His office felt foreign and sterile, empty and unreal. The glass surfaces everywhere let him glimpse the face of Bruce Wayne, a face that he was beginning to see less and less. It felt uncanny seeing himself without the cowl, and sometimes when he was working, he could swear he saw a reflection of the bat ears in the window beside him. The night had dragged on, and he was only an hour into the meeting with Lucius when the phone in his suit pocket rang.
He and Lucius shared a sceptical look as he turned the phone screen. The call location wasn't displaying as the Batcave, the only place that could contact this phone directly outside of his children, Lucius and Alfred's personal mobile. Yet he knew Red Hood was taking the brunt of patrol tonight, and Bruce was intended to join him after the meeting. Dick was carrying out some errands downtown and everyone else had either stayed home or didn't contact him like this often. The girls preferred to call his phone as Bruce Wayne or spoke through Alfred, so who could it be?
Lucius gives a nod, silent as he sits down. Bruce's face hardens as he presses the speaker button, accepting the call.
"Who is this?" he says, lowering his voice to the gravelly timbre of Batman.
"Da...B-Batman?" comes a broken, shaky voice on the other end. Lucius's eyes widen and flick to Bruce's immediately, mouth parting. Bruce's jaw ticks, eyes widening as well when he hears your voice.
"This is the Batman. How did you get this number?" He asks, having to focus on keeping his voice low, even though the tone of Bruce threatens to creep back in.
"He-he just had it. I don't know. He just told me to speak, I-I'm not even holding the phone I can't see anything; I’m tied, my eyes are-" you begin to ramble, struggling to get through your words before you're cut off.
"Hello, Batsy." calls a voice close to the receiver, and Bruce swore that his heart fell through the floor in that moment. His fingers tighten around the phone the same way that his lungs are constricting in his chest.
"Joker."
The man on the other end cackles, if Bruce could even call him that. "Miss me?" he snickers, Bruce's mind filling with the image of a red stretched grin. "You see, this is more of a... courtesy call. You know Bruce Wayne, billionaire extraordinaire?"
Bruce's head snaps up to Lucius, who's rubbing at his face nervously.
He didn't know, did he?
"You see, I didn't make a lot of impact going after the commissioner last time, so I had to think to myself, If I wanted to really shake things up in Gotham, who else is there? Then I thought of it, who better than the playboy of the century?" he laughs, punctuated with a sharp snap of his fingers.
"Get to the point." Bruce all but growls.
"Yeah yeah, you always love to rush me, don't you?" The Joker snarks back with fake hurt, before continuing. "Regardless, I have one of his little orphan projects, thinking I might have a bit more success with this one."
He hears a thwack over the phone and a scream, making his nails dig into his palm. He steadies his breathing.
"What have you done?" he asks, low and dangerous.
Another thwack.
"Exactly what I said. But there was a rumour going around that you know Mr. Money, so I thought I'd give you a call, you know, a little gift. If you do know the richest orphan in Gotham, then I want to give you the honour of telling him I've got one of his. Better yet, I want to give you the honour of delivering their body to his doorstep. Maybe that way, you might be able to bond over losing your fake kids."
Bruce feels sick, closing his eyes to try and stop himself from making a mistake right now.
Your life was on the line. He had to play smart.
"Where are you?"
The joker tuts on the other end. "This was a courtesy call, nothing more. I don't want anyone interrupting my playtime. Tata for now~"
"Joker-" he starts but then he's cut off, line going dead. Lucius doesn't say anything, his own personal phone pulled out as he calls Alfred, studying the frozen figure of Bruce. It's almost like there's dark tendrils to the shadows on his broad body, deepening the lines on his face.
Bruce doesn't remember too much, but Batman did.
Immediately he had left the room, suit en route to him and arriving within the minute. As soon as the comfort of his cowl touched his skin, Bruce was gone, and it was Batman calling everyone at the same time. It was Dick who picked up first, a couple of rings earlier than Jason before Tim joined, the sound of Damian in the background. Oracle and Spoiler joined together, while the others were still pending. He didn’t have the time to temper his voice as he relayed the situation, immediately getting as many people on recon as possible.
There were shouts and yelling and cursing before all of their lines became inactive, replaced with trackers signalling that their suits were live. When he enters the batmobile he grips the wheel tensely. The lump in his throat doesn't seem to disappear, only growing larger with each second. His mind is filled with pictures of Jason. Pictures of Barbara. The smiling photos of you.
He might never admit it, but he had your photos front and centre in his wallet (something you did in fact know and used to your advantage frequently in 'dad loves me more' battles). He remembers the first day he ever saw you, cold and scared apart from the other kids in the orphanage. He had been investigating a potential human trafficking ring operating out of the centre, but when he saw you, the fatherly pang hit him. The way your eyes stared forward dully as he greeted children as Bruce Wayne, cameras flashing around him. He had enough wealth to buy the children anything they asked for, the other kids excitedly asking for new toys or clothes or art supplies. However, when he kneeled down in front of you and asked you want you wanted, you said only a few words, 'a family'.
And god be damned if Bruce didn't have money enough for that too.
So, he took you in, hid batman from you like he had tried to with everyone else as well. Yet he failed again, but unlike his children in the past, you never asked to join. Never asked for a suit or to stay up or to train in the cave. Never showed any interest in joining your siblings or throwing yourself in front of danger for the sake of the city. When he asked you why you had simply shrugged, giving him a soft smile.
"All I've ever wanted was to be part of a family. I don't need to be a superhero to be loved."
And then you beamed at him with a smile that could have lit up his world and chased the clouds away from Gotham, so pure and genuinely content. That made Bruce feel like he had finally succeeded as a father, and for once Bruce felt like a father. No Batman, no mask and cape. He didn't train with you; he went out with you to the theatre on weekends. You didn't jump from rooftop to rooftop, you liked to come study with him in his office when he had to take care of Wayne affairs. Batman may have been created to save Gotham city, but he was convinced that you were sent to save Bruce Wayne.
Now, he felt that he had failed you as both Bruce and Batman.
"Hold on sweetheart," he whispers to himself, letting his eyes close for a brief moment during his exhale. "I'll get you home. I promise."
He pressed the accelerator further, Batmobile display signaling that everyone else was suited up and across the city waiting further instruction. He just hoped, he prayed that when he brought you back, it wouldn't be in a body bag.
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taliabhattwrites · 5 months ago
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The Sexed Regime, or: You Probably Have the Wrong Critiques of "TME/TMA" Terminology
Let's begin by looking at an interesting dichotomy.
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There's an oddly pervasive idea in queer spaces that a truly progressive trans or post-gender politic underscores the irrelevance of sex. In contrast to patriarchal society's utter fixation on "natal sex", queer existence must be transcendent, a space in which one's bodily configuration is understood to be entirely under one's purview, where presentation is simply something we inhabit and implies nothing about our sexualities or embodiments. It is an idea of emancipation rooted in agnosticism, an anti-patriarchal revolution spurred by the lack of belief in our cissexist society's deranged emphasis on knowing what's in our pants at all times.
It's a very appealing idea, I'll admit.
Here's the thing, though.
The naturalization of sex is the foundation of patriarchy, as well as the basis of the heterosexual regime it instantiates. Humanity is cleft in twain, with one sex marked for reproductive-sexual exploitation by the other. Like most other regimes, this one is also powered by belief--belief in the superiority of the 'male sex', the unfitness of the 'female sex', and most of all: absolute belief that sex is immutable, exhaustively binary, and non-overlapping.
What this also means, ultimately, is that those of us who dare to desert the sex we were conscripted into face different pressures and violence. It is obvious that many trans people are also subject to reproductive injustice, as cis women are, and consequently the transphobia they face is very acutely a regendering impulse, a patriarchal desire to drag them back to the confines of womanhood to fulfill their patriarchal purpose. There is, understandably, a certain amount of solidarity between cis women and trans people who have suffered these aspects of the heterosexual regime.
This is in fact the understanding that gives rise to even liberal-progressive uses of 'male socialization' directed at transfems. Trans women are understood to have been spared certain excesses of misogynistic violence and therefore expected to see and approach the world differently. It is simply a neutral observation, of course, no judgment behind it ... well, until it comes time to deny trans women epistemic authority over experiences of misogyny or womanhood, even their own. After all, can transfems really be said to have a full understanding of patriarchy? They weren't 'raised AFAB'!
Oftentimes, this becomes a double bind of proving that transfems did experience trauma, feminization, and abuse even pretransition, often as children, which is then usually dismissed as "trauma dumping" or "equating womanhood to being abused"--despite the minimization of our experiences being predicated on our "lesser" understanding of the trauma of being "misogyny-affected". So let's not retread that.
Instead, I'll point out that people assume a symmetry, a complementarian equivalence, almost, between the experiences of trans people. What I would like to stress is that there is no such thing as a coherent "AMAB" class or a shared "AMAB solidarity" based on shared experiences of oppression, because I have some shocking news that readers may wish to sit down for:
Trans women are oppressed by cis men.
Cis men are overwhelmingly the ones who rape us, beat us, kill us, and seek to abuse us. When we were children, we were bullied and violated for our perceived effeminacy, largely by the cis boys we were most proximate to. Most of us have been around cis men when they've voiced their most dehumanizing, misogynistic thoughts about women, and have been punished for not participating in these rituals of misogynistic rhetoric, too. The trauma of our upbringing involves being locked into spaces with those who sniffed out our differences, our non-conformance, and routinely punished us for being deviant. When we grow up, they are the ones who largely continue to prey on us.
The chief characteristic of transmisogyny is the presumed artificiality of trans womanhood, the idea that we are mimetics, and our womanhood is a farce, a costume whose only purpose is sexual. This dovetails with our disposability--our inability to be women who can bear children, further patrilineality, and secure what minuscule respectability is afforded to the domestically-confined women who continue the male line. As such, our hyperfetishization marks us for extreme violence, as sexual objects that can be freely used and discarded, guilt-free, because after all ... We asked for it.
Why would we "choose" womanhood if we did not want this?
Which, ultimately, brings me to my point: Sex is a social regime of difference imposed on us, but it is, unfortunately, a regime still in existence. My sex is the basis upon which my womanhood is denied and my disposability justified, because the transfeminized are degendered--we are not, as a rule, provided a path "back" to manhood. Our "effeminacy" ensures that we are 'failed' men, because gender is ultimately hierarchal. Losing status, being unmanned, is frankly trivial, and is what underlies the oppression of queer men--trans men included. Most of us are ultimately subject to some kind of degendering, largely due to how a patriarchal society regards those who defy the reproductive mandate, but transmisogyny is a specific manifestation of degendering that trans women experience.
"TME/TMA" may well be an imperfect categorization--all undertakings in boundary formation are imprecise, though not always violent, given that we need descriptive terms to communicate--but the real issue with it is that it's an overly-ponderous and ultimately clunky terminology for the frank reality that the binary sex imposed on us shapes the contours of the violence we experience. I have never experienced the specific kind of misogyny that sees me as nothing but a broodmare, because I'm a filthy troon, that dehumanized abject thing whose only purpose is absorbing (sexual) violence. Yet the acknowledgment that transfems experience forms of violence that others do not--or sometimes, even the acknowledgment that transfems face violent misogyny at all--is much less forthcoming.
Our struggles are indelibly connected, of course, stemming from the same source and promulgated by the same regime that seeks to define us as nothing more than male property. The shape of each is distinct, however, and because people frequently misunderstand the shape of mine, the idea that my struggles are even connected to theirs, that I experience misogynistic violence homoousian with that which they experience, is frequently dismissed, or considered outright offensive.
This is why I talk and write about transmisogyny, and why more people need to become more familiar with how the naturalization of sex and the regime of heterosexuality under patriarchy necessitates our common struggle.
And unfortunately, in order to properly express these ideas, we do need to talk about the regime of sex.
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mikami1992 · 7 months ago
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Jason is about to have a panic attack…
He knew that he had to finish researching and confirm those 48 hours of lost memory from last year…
but nooo… I thought I put together everything that happened during that time and left a few hours here and there with only assumptions about what happened…
and now he has the consequences in front of him… on a pair of baby seats in the middle of his living room next to a pair of diaper bags with a note…
"Emergency, take care of them for time, I'll be back
Sincerely, Danny"
and there, in those pair of seats, are 2 babies, a girl and a boy, one with blue eyes and the other reddish brown, the two children had black hair… with a white strand of hair on their heads. …
Jason isn't an idiot, he did the math…and the dates fit…so now he has to face his impending fatherhood…it's time to call Alfred….
While all this is happening Danny flies through the Infinite Realms, he now has to face the idiots who think they can challenge him for the throne.
He just hopes Ellie and Dan are okay…. Well there shouldn't be any problem, he left them with one of the strongest avenging/protecting spirits on the side of the living, plus Red Hood is known for being good with children…
He only regrets not being able to explain more in the note…
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jinwoosbabyboo · 2 months ago
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The School is Calling
You got a call about your kid(s) fighting at school ... this can't be good .... or is it? [Requested by: Anon]
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Zayne
Principal: Your child got into a fight during lunch
MC: who started the fight?
Principal: That's not important the important thing is your daughter brutally beat up another child
Zayne: What was the fight about?
Principal: Another child took her fruit cup
MC: Is this the same kid who put slime in her hair two days ago?
Principal: Yes but-
Zayne: Is this the same kid who's been taking her notebooks for the last two weeks
Principal: well you see-
Zayne: This sounds like a case of bullying and it seems as though you and your staff have done little to discipline a student who has been bullying our daughter
Principal: I assure you we have a strict no bullying poli-
Zayne: It's not strict enough.
The principals lips snap shut.
Zayne: Now violence is not the answer, but this sounds like a case of self-defense you along with your staff need to handle the bullying problem you have in this school
Principal: ....
Zayne: Are we done here?
Principal: Yes we're done here sir sorry to bother you two
MC: Don't be sorry be better
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Rafayel
Principal: Your children got into a fight during recess
Rafayel: Damn *turns to his kids* did you two win?
Your children rapidly nod with big smiles on their faces.
Rafayel: Hell yea! up top!
Principal: Sir this is not a good thing
Rafayel: Did they start it?
Principal: Well no
Rafayel: So they finished it?
Principal: Sir
Rafayel: Good talk ... tell your students to leave my kids alone now if we're done here im taking them to get ice cream
Rafayel walks outside with the twins in tow and finds you leaning against the hood of the car.
MC: So?
Rafayel: They didn't start it they finished it and they won
MC: That's what I like to hear ... Ice cream?
Rafayel & the twins: ICE CREAM !
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Xavier
Principal: Your child got into a fight during P.E.
MC: Who started it?
Principal: That's not important here
Xavier: Answer the question.
Principal: ........The other kid shoved your child into the wall
Xavier: Which explains the bruise on his elbow
Principal: Your child then proceeded to punch the other kid in the mouth knocking his tooth out
Xavier: Sounds like self defense
Principal: Your son busted that kids lip sir
MC: Maybe that kid should've kept his hands off our son
Principal: We can't have your son fighting it goes against everything we stand for
Xavier: My son has told you and your staff multiple times this kid was being mean to him and you've done nothing
Principal: We've done everything we can
Xavier: No you haven't you let it slide until he stood up for himself and showed that kid that his actions have consequences we're done here
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Sylus
MC: I just got a call from the school, but I won't be able to make it up there in time Sylus: I'll go I'm not busy MC: Okay let me know how it goes
Principal: Im sorry to inform you that we're going to have to suspend your daughter
Sylus: Why.
Principal: She tied up a student and stuffed him in a locker
Sylus: Why.
Principal:*mumbling* He .... He ripped one of her braids out
Sylus: Speak up.
Principal: Another student pulled her hair and removed a braid by accident
Sylus: If I do recall my daughter has reported this kid pulling her hair multiple times
Principal: Yes but we can't have her fighting
Sylus: She didn't fight .... she overpowered him and showed their difference in strength
Principal: but-
Sylus: You're lucky she doesn't like picking on the weak ... don't bother me or her mother with these trivial matters again ... lets go little dove
MC: How did it go? Sylus: Just a friendly chat nothing serious MC: What did she do? Sylus: Made me proud
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marsdql · 10 days ago
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Finders, keepers !
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⌖ p. 𝘮𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢!𝘭𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨 ⤫ 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳﹒wc: 0.8𝘬﹒g . 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳﹒cw. 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦/𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦, 𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨/𝘢𝘣𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦/𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘴, 𝘵𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘤 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘴
marea talks; first fic after my mini break, kinda nervous
ᡣ𐭩 synopsis ﹒your boyfriend hasn’t paid back his debts to a sketchy mafia man in months—and still hasn’t saved up for any of it either. How— or should I say, with who could he possibly repay him with?
────୨ৎ────
Everything in your life has been falling apart recently, you lived far from your family, university had been punching you in the back–and last but not least, your boyfriend Damien hasn't been spending a lot of time with you, leaving you sad AND lonely.
Damien was sitting on the other side of the couch as you both watched different things on your phones. He was always a little odd, but still treated you with a little affection once in a while, you had zero idea why he randomly decided to act like this. After almost an eternity of silence between the both of you, you both heard the front door fling open–
“Damien, im done waiting for you” a man shouts from across the room, before you even have time to react, you see a tall black haired man in a suit with bodyguards behind him, approaching your boyfriend and grabbing him by the collar.
— rest under cut ! —
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Damien looked at him with pure guilt in his eyes, almost as if he owed him something. “Man! I told you next month!” your man shouted. “Yeah? You’ve been saying that for the past 5 months buddy–so, you got my money or not?” Damien quickly nods, signaling that he doesn't–bringing the muscular man to chuckle. “Well, whether you have it or not, you still owe, so what’re you offering me?”
Before your boyfriend could reply, you snapped out of your place and tried helping him out–if only you didn't do that. “Hey, hey. Sit back down young lady, this is something between me and your little twat right now, he doesn't need your help, he knows what he's doing.” he said as he pushed you away effortlessly with his hand. “So im gon’ ask again, what’s it going to be?” he adds. You stared at your man, wondering what he’ll say, your phone was across the room by now, you had no chance of being able to get it and calling the police.
Damien quickly shifted his gaze to you. What? Was he really trying to say that he was offering YOU as money to this scary looking guy? “No way… You did this to yourself and now you're offering me your woman? You're bringing her into this because you can't handle the consequences of your own actions?” He spat. ‘You disgust me. Guys, take him away, I can't handle seeing his face’ ‘No, let him go!’ you pathetically yelled, tears slowly forming as you realized the situation your soon to be ex just put you in.
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As soon as the guards took your boyfriend away, the man who was threatening him slowly approached you, making noise with his thick heels. “Aren’t you an unlucky one?” He whispered, crouching to get to your eye level as you hugged the pillow in your hands, “What are you going to do to him…” you questioned, causing him to aggressively grab your chin wit an unnecessary grip “He offered you as payment of his own debt and you’re still worried about a scumbag like him?” you nod. “Well, ‘don't think he’s really important right now, let's talk about you for now, hm?”
‘You address me by Mr. Lee, okay sweetheart?’ ‘O–hic–Okay, Mister Lee’ ‘Good girl, See? If you keep your attitude like this, it’ll be easy for both of us, now, I'll have to take you with me though princess, I know you’re confused but as soon as your little boyfriend pays me back, you can come back.’ He stood up, towering over you as your eyes followed his movement, lazily pulling out a cigarette from his coat pocket. Instead of calling his bodyguards to take you into the van, he did it himself, yanking you off the couch and leaving everything behind.
The car ride was silent, you almost fell asleep but the fear of what was going to happen next kept you up. “Awfully quiet, aren't we?” Mr Lee spoke, breaking the uncomfortable silence in the car. “You don't have anything to say? I don't bite.” You blinked slowly, afraid something would happen. ‘Where are we going?’ ‘There you go, I was starting to think you really were a doll.’ The nickname made you turn a little redder than anticipated, Damien would never call you any pet names, and the fact that this random man was constantly doing it, made you wonder if you and Damien ever had anything real to begin with.
“Hey, what's the tired face? C’mere.” he said, grabbing your wrists and scooting you closer to him. “Open up.” He demanded, you hesitated. “I'm not going to ask you again.” Before you had time to think whether you should open up or not, he did it for you, sliding in a few pills down your throat and making you swallow without any liquid to help you digest it easier. In seconds, you fell asleep.
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You woke up with your legs and arms tied to a pole, they were 100% going to leave bruises from how tight they were. It was difficult to understand if the intimidating man was trying to be sweet to you, or rude. His words were affectionate, yet his grip on you stabbed like a knife.
Unexpectedly, you felt a set of hands caressing your back, then playing with your hair, making you wince in shock. Suddenly, you heard a deep groan, "Slept well, darling?"
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Reblogs + Comments are appreciated ! @marsdql
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entitled-fangirl · 4 months ago
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The crown.
Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!wife!reader
Summary: the reader must attend the coronation of her mother's usurper. At least Aemond eases the blow.
A/n: this is so short but too long to be a drabble so 🤷‍♀️
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She stood next to Aemond. Not confident, as he was. Not nervous, as Helaena was. Not arrogant as Otto. 
She wasn't like any of them, really.
How could she be, she was a Velaryon. 
She was married to Aemond when they were both five and ten. It was Rhaenyra's idea. She wished to bridge the gap between the families. 
And the two grew to love each other well. 
But like all marriages, there came strife.
Like Aegon usurping the throne. 
So there they stood, watching as Aegon walked through the crowd to be coronated.
Aemond looked to his wife, his fingers reaching to brush hers. His voice was soft in her ear, "Please pretend to be joyful. At least give me that."
She turned her face to him, their breaths mixing. "You'd have me lie?"
He hummed. "I'll not see what happens to you if you do not. I will not allow it."
She opened her eyes, cringing when the light from the window blinded her. 
Giving a light yawn, she stretched and sat up in the bed. 
Aemond had already left. 
It was not uncommon. His favorite time to spar was the morning. 
She waited a while, frowning when her handmaiden never came in to help her dress. 
She stood on shaky legs and moved to the door. 
Locked. 
She shook in vigorously. "Ser Erryk?!"
No response. 
She banged her fist on the door. "Please."
She stepped back, growing frustrated. "I am locked inside!"
"Ser Erryk?"
"Aemond?"
"Please! Take me to my husband!"
She finally sighed and tried one last effort, placing her hand gently on the door, "I do not know what I have done. Please."
When nothing came, she huffed and moved to dress herself.
"What?" Aemond asked lowly.
"The Princess, your grace. She has been calling for you."
He shrugged. "Why? She can come to me. She knows that."
"Her door has been locked, my prince."
His gaze hardened. "You've locked her inside our chambers?"
"By the Hand's command, my prince," Ser Erryk said. His eyes held remorse. 
"Why was I not made aware of this?" Aemond growled. "She is my wife. If she is of any consequence, it should be mine! If she wishes out of her room, bring her to me."
"Yes, Prince Aemond."
Aemond spent the next hour holding her as she wept. 
Her grandsire gone. Her mother's right taken from her. 
And this poor girl was stuck in the midst of it all.
"You and I both know… V…Viserys did not… want this," she cried into his chest. 
He hummed in thought. "No. But it does not change its coming."
"Your family sees no reason," she sniffled.
"Hey," he warned lowly as he cupped her cheeks to force her to look at him. "Our family. You must be more Hightower than Velaryon now."
"I hold none of your mother's blood in me, Aemond."
"If you stay a Velaryon, you will not last. You are married to me. You have my name. You have my titles. You have everything."
"I have you. I shall make that enough, dear husband."
She felt tears form in her eyes as the crown was placed on Aegon's head. 
The crowd cheered, but she saw nothing. 
A rubble stirred through the ground and the silver hair siblings all gazed at one another in confusion.
Rhaenys and Meleys emerged from below the boards, causing a shake to move though the building. 
Gasps and screams were heard.
Aemond's eye widened, and he immediately was on guard. 
Alicent moved to Aegon, shielding him from the dragon's jaws. 
In turn, Ser Criston shifted himself between the dowager queen and Helaena, ready to interfere anywhere he needed to.
But only when Meleys turned her head did Aemond move. 
He grabbed his wife's wrist in a desperate grip, pulling her behind him as his other hand was held near his sword.
They watched as Rhaenys and Alicent stared at one another, waiting for the other to make a move first. 
Meleys reared back, preparing herself to attack.
When her great jaws opened and they believed fire would escape from it, Aemond turned completely to his wife, wrapping his arms around her waist and the other holding her head against him. He was intent on shielding her from the horrors that laid on the other side of his body.
But when a mighty roar came from the dragon instead, Aemond relaxed slightly. His hands remained, but his body was eased. 
He turned when Meleys finished. His eye met Rhaenys'. It was clear she was thinking about something. Not something, someone. 
His wife stood behind him still, her eyes peeking over his sturdy shoulders. 
Rhaenys tilted her head at the sight of the two of them, mourning the loss of Rhaeynra's daughter to the Hightowers.
And Meleys flew away.
Aemond let out a breath, pulling her head to him to kiss the crown of it. 
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aeralux · 1 month ago
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"Anytime, anywhere" - Aemond Targaryen
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Summary: It's never a good idea to anger the Prince of the Real, yet that's exactly what you did. And now you must face the consequences...
Warnings: 18+; smut; public sex acts (exhibitionsim); blowjob; degrading names (slut, whore); pet names (dove etc); feeling of shame/humiliation; typical targcest; targaryen!reader
Words: 4.4k (omfg what is wroNG WITH ME)
Notes: Reader is female but no other descriptive language is used. Implied that Reader is Daemon's daughter.
-- aera xx
Provoking Aemond was always a risky endeavour. His temper was notorious, and the consequences of angering him could be severe. Those who dared to cross him often faced fierce and relentless wrath, leaving them to regret their choices. So you couldn't quite understand why you made that decision this morning.
You woke slowly, your bare skin tingling with the memory of Aemond's touch. Bruises bloomed across your flesh, the aftermath of last night. As you stretched, a dull ache throbbed between your thighs, a sweet reminder of the prince's possession.
You sighed softly, a whimper escaping your lips. Aemond had council today. That much you knew. His mood was sure to be foul. You didn't dare disturb him, simply laying your head on his chest, your fingers tracing idle patterns across his toned torso.
The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken desire. You knew you should rise, dress, and attend to your duties as a court lady and a princess. But here, in the sanctuary of Aemond's bed, you were his, a fact that filled you with deep, primal satisfaction.
Aemond stirred from his slumber, the feel of your soft, naked body pressed against his own bringing a smile to his lips. His eye fluttered open, taking in the sight of you sprawled across his chest, your fingers tracing languid patterns along his skin.
He reached up, his hand cupping your cheek as he pulled you close for a lingering kiss. "Good morning, my dove," he murmured, his voice still rough with sleep. "How did you sleep?"
You hummed contentedly, nuzzling into his neck as you savoured the warmth of his embrace. "Good," you replied, your voice muffled against his skin. "Though I may be a bit sore."
Aemond's smile turned wicked, a glint of mischief in his eye as he recalled the roughness of your lovemaking from the night before. "I can think of a way to soothe those aches," he teased, his hand sliding down your back to cup the curve of your ass.
You giggled, as you rolled off him and onto the bed beside him. "As tempting as that offer is, I fear we must resist. You have council duties to attend to, after all."
Aemond groaned in mock frustration, his head falling back against the pillows as he stared up at the ceiling. "Must we?" he groaned, though there was no real regret in his tone. "Very well, I suppose duty calls. But tonight…"
He rolled towards you, his hand sliding up your thigh, his touch igniting sparks beneath your skin. "Tonight, you are mine again. And I intend to take my time with you until you are screaming my name in ecstasy and every man in Westeros knows who’s pretty little slut you are.”
A sinister plan began to form in your mind as Aemond spoke of his duties and his plan for later. You tried to hide your devious smirk, not wanting him to suspect what you had in store.
"I suppose I could make you feel good right now… I'll be quick, my prince," you purred, trailing kisses down his chiselled abs towards his manhood.
You knew the guards would soon come calling, requesting Aemond's presence in the council chambers. Your plan was simple yet deliciously cruel - to bring him right to the very edge of pleasure, his cock throbbing and aching for release, only to leave him high and dry.
With a wicked gleam in your eye, you wrapped your lips around him, determined to give your prince a taste of his own medicine.
Aemond's breath caught in his throat as your lips wrapped around him, your tongue swirling skillfully around his length. His hand fisted in your hair, his fingers tugging gently as he guided your movements.
The sensation was exquisite, the heat of your mouth, the wetness of your tongue, the suction of your lips - it was almost enough to make him forget about his duties, to lose himself entirely in the pleasure you were giving him.
"Fuck," he groaned, his head falling back against the pillows as he surrendered to the sensations. "You wicked, wicked thing. If you keep this up, I'll never make it to the council."
You merely hummed in response, your movements becoming more frenzied, more urgent. You could feel him growing harder, could taste the saltiness of his arousal on your tongue.
You bobbed your head faster, your hand wrapping around the base of his shaft as you took him deeper into your throat with each movement. Aemond's hips bucked, his breath coming in short gasps. Your saliva dripped and ran down his shaft, coating his length in your spit.
You pushed yourself to relax your throat, allowing him to thrust deeper. When he hit the back of your throat, you felt your eyes roll back in pleasure. The heavy weight of his cock feels amazing on your tongue.
You held him there for a moment, relishing how he stretched and filled your mouth. As you pulled back to breathe, you let out a loud, wanton moan, making sure Aemond could hear how much you loved pleasuring him.
Drool spilt down your chin as you went back to work, bobbing your head up and down his cock. You took him as deep as you could each time, letting him slide into your throat again and again. Your arousal dampened your thighs, already dripping onto the sheets below, but all you cared about at that moment was worshipping Aemond's cock with your mouth and throat.
Aemond's harsh groans filled the chamber, his hips thrusting upwards as he lost himself in the decadent pleasure of your mouth. Your lips and tongue worked magic on his hardened length, bringing him closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy with each bob of your head.
"Fuck," he growled, his grip tightening in your hair. "That's it… Use that pretty mouth of yours. Make me come."
You moaned around him, the sound sending shivers down his spine. You could feel him pulsing against your tongue, could taste his salty arousal.
Suddenly, there was a sharp knock at the door, startling you both. "Prince Aemond!" came a stern voice. "The king commands your presence in the council chambers. Immediately!"
Aemond cursed under his breath, his frustration clear. He was so close, so tantalizingly close to release. But duty called, as it always did.
You released him with a lewd pop, your lips and chin glistening with saliva and his precum. A wicked grin spread across your face as you gazed up at him, your eyes gleaming.
Suddenly, realization dawned on him, a flash of anger flickering in his eye. Without warning, his hand shot out, gripping your hair tightly as he yanked your head back.
At that moment, you knew you had pushed Aemond to the limits of his control. And you couldn't wait to see what punishment he had in store for you.
Aemond's chest heaved with pent-up frustration, his teeth clenched as he fought to maintain his composure. The interruption had come at the worst possible moment, leaving him painfully aroused and desperate for release.
With a low growl, he released his grip on your hair, his hand moving instead to wrap around your throat. "You wicked whore," he rasped, his voice rough with desire. "You'll pay for this. I'll make sure of it."
Your eyes widened, a thrill of fear and anticipation coursing through you at his words. You knew you had crossed a line, and knew that your actions would have consequences.
But even as your pulse raced beneath his fingers, you couldn't bring yourself to regret it. The fire in Aemond's eye, the raw hunger in his gaze - it set your blood ablaze with a need that only he could satisfy.
Aemond's grip on your throat tightens, sending shivers down your spine. You're equal parts terrified and thrilled by the promise of punishment in his voice. A moan threatens to escape your lips as your core clenches around nothing with need. You know you should feel ashamed, but you can't bring yourself to regret your actions.
The way Aemond looks at you, the hunger in his eyes - it ignites a fire within you that you can't control. You crave his dominance, his rough treatment. At this moment, you know you would do anything he asks of you.
Aemond's grip loosened, his hand trailing down your neck, over your collarbone, and down to your breasts. He squeezed roughly, eliciting a gasp from your lips.
"You want it rough, do you?" he growled, his thumb brushing over your nipple. "Want me to use you like the filthy little slut you are?"
You nodded frantically, your hips arching up into his touch. "Yes, my prince," you breathed, your voice trembling with need. "Please… Punish me. Claim me. Make me yours."
Aemond's lips curled into a sinister smile, his hand moving lower, over your stomach, hips, thighs. He parted your legs, his fingers brushing over your slick folds.
"Such a needy little thing," he purred, his finger circling your clit. "So desperate for my cock. But you don't deserve it. Not yet."
With a final teasing stroke, he withdrew his hand, ignoring your whimper of protest. He rose from the bed, his naked body glorious in the morning light.
"Get dressed," he commanded, his voice brooking no argument. "And be quick about it. You’re coming to council."
With that, he turned and strode towards the bathing chamber, leaving you alone on the bed, your body aching with unfulfilled desire.
You looked at him dumbfounded, your lips parted in utter confusion. “Wh-what?” you asked him, unsure if you misheard him.
Aemond paused at the threshold of the bathing chamber, glancing over his shoulder at you with a wicked grin. "Did you think I would let you off so easily?" he asked, his voice low and teasing. "Oh no, my sweet dove. You'll come to council with me, where you'll sit at my feet like the obedient pet you are. And when I'm done with my duties, I'll take you back to my chambers and fuck you senseless. Again and again, until you can't walk straight."
You shifted on the bed, heat pooling between your thighs at his bold promise. The thought of sitting at Aemond's feet, his gaze on you as he discussed matters of state, his touch a constant reminder of what was to come.
"Yes, my prince," you whispered, rising from the bed on shaky legs. "I'll do whatever you command."
Your hands trembled as you rushed to dress, the anticipation of what lay ahead both terrifying and extremely arousing. Aemond's words echoed in my mind, his promise of punishment and pleasure sending shivers down my spine.
Aemond stood by the chamber door, his posture commanding as he waited. The sight of you flushed and trembling, only fueled his desire. He reached out, his fingers grazing her cheek, tilting her face up to meet his gaze.
"Remember," he murmured, his voice low and intense. "You belong to me now. Every inch of you, every thought, every desire. If anyone looks at you or touches you, they'll have to answer to me. Understood?"
You shivered at his possessive words, a flush spreading across your cheeks. "Yes, my prince," you breathed, eyes locked on his. "I'm yours, completely."
Aemond's lips curved into a satisfied smirk. He threaded his fingers through your hair, tugging gently to expose your neck. Leaning in, he placed a searing kiss on the sensitive skin, marking you as his own.
"Then come," he commanded, releasing you and turning towards the door. "Let's go, my little slut. And when we return, I'll show you just how thoroughly I plan to claim you. But you’ll have to make it up to me first.”
Your breath hitched as you realised the implications of his words, eyes trembling with shame.
Aemond's laughter echoed through the chambers, a dark and foreboding sound that sent shivers down your spine. He revelled in the power he held over you, in the way your body trembled at his touch, your eyes wide with a mix of fear and desire.
"Oh, I'll enjoy making you make it up to me," he purred, his hand trailing down your back, stopping just above the curve of your ass. "I'll have you crawling on your knees, begging for my cock. I'll fuck you in front of the entire court, make you scream my name so everyone knows who you belong to."
Selaesa whimpered, your core clenching at the thought. You knew it was wrong, knew that you should be ashamed of your desires. But in that moment, all you could think of was the promise of Aemond's touch, the burning need to submit to his every whim.
"Yes, my prince," you breathed, your voice trembling with need. "I'll do anything, be anything you want me to be. Your slut, your whore, your toy. Just please… Don't stop touching me."
Aemond grinned, his hand squeezing your ass roughly. "Such a good girl," he praised, his voice dripping with condescension. "Now come, let's not keep the council waiting. They'll learn soon enough who owns you, body and soul."
With a final possessive squeeze, he released her and strode towards the door, expecting you to follow. You hurried after him, your heart pounding in your chest, your core aching with unfulfilled desire.
As you made your way to the council, Aemond sat down at one end of the long table. "Kneel," came his command, leaving no room for questions.
Aemond's eyes gleamed with amusement as he caught your pleading gaze. He drank in the desperate longing in your expression. With a slow, deliberate motion, he reached out and cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lower lip.
"Patience, my sweet," he murmured, his voice low and husky. You leaned into his hand, your eyes fluttering closed as you savoured his warmth. You nipped lightly at his thumb, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.
"Please, my prince," you breathed, your voice thick with need. "Just a taste."
Aemond's grip tightened, his fingers tangling in your hair. He pulled you closer, his lips hovering mere inches from yours.
"Careful what you wish for, little slut," he growled, his breath hot against your skin. "I may just decide to bend you over the council table and fuck you in front of everyone. Is that what you want? To be claimed as my whore in front of the entire realm?"
Your eyes widened at his words, a fresh wave of desire coursing through you. You knew it was madness, knew that you should be horrified by the thought. But at that moment, all you could think of was the burning need to be taken, to be possessed entirely by Aemond.
"Yes," you whispered, your voice trembling with want. "I want it. I want everyone to know that I'm yours and that no one else can touch me. I want you to claim me, ruin me, make me yours forever."
Aemond's eyes darkened with lust, his grip tightening in your hair. But just as quickly, he released you, leaning back with a wicked grin.
"Later," he promised, his voice dripping with promise.
You quietly crawled between his legs as Aegon was speaking and began to slowly rub Aemonds thighs. Your touch was feather-light, sending shivers down his spine.
Aemond's breath hitched as he felt your delicate touch on his thighs, your fingers tracing slow, teasing patterns on his skin. He fought to maintain his composure, his gaze fixed on Aegon as the king droned on about matters of state. But his mind was elsewhere, focused solely on the sensation of your hands on him.
He shifted slightly in his seat, his leg parting slightly to give you better access. You took the invitation, your hands sliding higher, your nails scraping lightly over the fabric of his trousers. Aemond bit back a groan, his cock stirring to life beneath his clothes.
As Aegon continued his speech, Aemond's hand moved from the armrest to your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. He applied gentle pressure, guiding your mouth towards his growing erection. You obeyed without hesitation, your lips brushing over the hardening bulge.
Aemond's grip tightened, his eyes never leaving Aegon's face as he fought to keep his expression neutral. Your tongue darted out, tracing the outline of his cock through the fabric, your warm breath seeping through the material.
Around you, the council members continued their discussion, blissfully unaware of the depravity happening mere feet away. Aemond revelled in the taboo nature of the act, in the power of taking what he wanted, when he wanted it.
As you knelt at Aemond's feet, you couldn't resist the urge to worship his cock through the fabric of his trousers. Breathing in his intoxicating scent, you pressed open-mouthed kisses along his shaft, your saliva dampening the cloth. Lost in your desire, you nuzzled your cheek against his hardness like a common whore, a needy whine escaping your throat. Your hips rocked instinctively, grinding your aching core against the pointed toe of his leather boot as you surrendered to the all-consuming hunger only he could satisfy.
Aemond gritted his teeth, fighting back a groan as your hot breath seeped through the fabric of his trousers. Your open-mouthed kisses sent jolts of pleasure shooting through his cock, your scent of arousal mingling with his musk. The feel of your cheek rubbing against his cock like a bitch in heat had his shaft throbbing, straining against the confines of his clothing. He tightened his grip on your hair, pulling you flush against him.
Aemond leaned back slightly, just enough to catch your eye. His gaze held a silent warning, a reminder of who held the power here. You looked up at him, your eyes glazed with lust, your lips parted in a silent plea.
With a slight tilt of his head, Aemond indicated his desire. Selaesa wasted no time, your fingers deftly undoing the laces of his trousers. Aemond's cock sprang free, hard and throbbing, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.
Your eyes widened at the sight, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. Aemond's grip on your hair tightened a silent command.
You obeyed without hesitation, your lips wrapping around his cock with a soft moan.
You tried to desperately stifle any sound as you felt Aemond's thick cock fill my mouth once more. But a soft, muffled moan escaped despite your best efforts. Your tongue swirled around his shaft, tracing the sensitive vein on the underside, applying gentle suction. You cupped his heavy balls, rolling them gently in your palm, feeling their weight against your skin.
Aemond's eyes nearly rolled back as he felt your tongue swirl around his shaft, your hand cupping his heavy balls. He fought to keep his breathing steady, his gaze still fixed on Aegon, who droned on about matters of state. But his focus was elsewhere, tuned into every flick of your tongue, every gentle roll of your fingers.
He tightened his grip on your hair, a silent warning to keep your ministrations quiet. The last thing he needed was to draw attention to your illicit affair. But gods, the feel of your mouth on him, the scent of your arousal mingling with his musk, it was driving him mad with need.
Aemond shifted slightly in his seat, his hips canting forward, seeking more of your wet heat. You obliged, your lips sliding down his shaft, taking him deeper. Aemond bit back a groan, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment.
When he opened them again, his gaze locked with yours. In your eyes, he saw a mix of lust and love, a devotion that both thrilled and terrified him. He knew you belonged to him, body and soul. But a part of him wondered if you truly understood the depths of his darkness, the lengths he would go to secure his power.
In that moment you can't help but wonder if the Lords have gone deaf, or if they truly don't hear you as you drool all over the Prince's cock. The spit runs down your chin as you clean it up and spit it back onto his shaft, swallowing around him. You can only pray that your sounds of pleasure remain unnoticed and that no one catches on to the depravity happening right under their noses.
But a part of you thrills at the thought of being caught, of having your submission to Aemond laid bare for all to see. You know you should be ashamed, should feel dirty and used. But instead, you felt empowered by the knowledge that you hold such sway over your Prince, that you can bring him to the brink of madness with just your mouth and hands.
Aemond's breath hitched as he felt you swallow around his cock, your throat fluttering deliciously around his shaft. The sight of your spit running down your chin, the sound of it as you spit it back onto him, it was almost too much to bear.
He tightened his grip on your hair, his nails digging into your scalp as he fought to maintain control. Around you, the council members continued their debate, their voices a dull roar in his ears. But none of that mattered, not when your mouth was wrapped around him, not when your tongue was driving him to the brink of madness.
Aemond's hips bucked slightly, thrusting deeper into your throat. You happily obliged, taking him deeper, your nose pressed against the wiry hairs at the base of his cock. Aemond's eyes rolled back, a low groan escaping his lips.
He caught himself just in time, his gaze snapping back to Aegon, who was still humming on regarding matters of the Realm. Aemond forced a neutral expression onto his face, nodding along as if he were paying attention. But his mind was elsewhere, focused solely on the sensation of your tongue swirling around the throbbing head of his cock.
As you bobbed your head up and down his shaft, Aemond's thoughts drifted to the taboo nature of your affair. You were his cousin, his uncle’s daughter. Taking you, claiming you, went against everything society deemed proper. And yet, the thrill of it, the knowledge that he was defiling his own blood, only added to his arousal, fueling his desire.
You gagged as he thrust up into your mouth, tears welling in your eyes, but you loved every second of it. The salty taste of your tears mingled with the taste of his cock on your tongue, flooding your senses. His thick shaft hit the back of your throat, stretching your jaw painfully, but you revelled in the exquisite burn. Each brutal thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure-pain through your core, body trembling with a mix of submission and desire. You knew you should feel degraded, but all you could focus on was the intoxicating power of pleasing him, of being used for his depraved needs. In that moment, you were his.
Aemond let out a low, guttural groan as he thrust up into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly. He watched, transfixed, as your eyes watered, as your throat tried to adjust to his girth. The sight of you gagging on his cock, of your tears streaming down your cheeks, it only served to heighten his pleasure.
He gripped your hair tighter, holding you in place as he fucked your face, setting a brutal pace. Around you, the council members continued their debate, their voices blending into a meaningless drone. All that mattered was the feeling of your mouth around him, the knowledge that he was using you, defiling you, in front of all these noble lords.
Aemond could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening, his shaft pulsing against your tongue. He was close, so close to spilling his seed down your throat. But a part of him held back, wanting to prolong this moment, to savour the sensation of her submission.
He slowed his thrusts, allowing you to catch your breath, to regain your composure. You looked up at him, your eyes glazed with lust and adoration, your lips swollen from his use. Aemond felt a surge of power, of possession. You belonged to him, body and soul. And he would make sure you never forgot it.
With a final, brutal thrust, Aemond buried himself to the hilt in your throat, his cock pulsing as he came. He held you in place, forcing you to swallow every last drop of his seed, to taste his power, his dominance.
You moan softly as you swallow every last drop of Aemond's seed, your tongue lapping at his softening cock to clean him of your mixed fluids. The salty taste of him fills your mouth and sends shivers down your spine. You love pleasing him like this, craving the feeling of his cum sliding down your throat.
As he pulls away, you gaze up at him adoringly, your eyes shining with devotion. You lick your lips, savouring the lingering flavour of him. "Was that to your liking, my prince?" you ask softly, your voice husky with desire. You ache to feel him inside you again, to be filled and claimed by him.
As he pulled out of your mouth, Aemond caught a glimpse of the council members, their eyes wide with shock and embarrassment. But he didn't care. Let them look, let them whisper behind their hands. He had claimed you, had marked her as his own, and nothing could change that.
Aemond watched with satisfaction as you dutifully swallowed every drop of his seed. The sight of you on her knees, his cum glistening on your lips, sent a thrill of power and possession through him.
As you gracefully rose to your feet, Aemond's gaze flicked to the stunned council members, their faces etched with shock and barely concealed astonishment. He met their eyes, his stare challenging them to speak out against him. No one dared utter a word, their tongues tied by fear of incurring his wrath.
Aemond turned his attention back to you, his eye dark with desire and a hint of cruelty. "Come," he commanded, his voice low and authoritative. Without waiting for a response, he grabbed your wrist and led you out of the council chamber, leaving the gawking nobles in his wake.
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yanderemommabean · 2 months ago
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Yandere uramichi punishing his fem darling who tried to escape with pleasure?
"God, look at you baby. Dripping all over the bed and I haven't even done anything yet" He says in awe, watching how his fingers drip with your juices, all while you're unable to even hide your face, hands tied to the side of the bed as you struggle to catch your breath.
"Honestly, with how wet you are, I'd think you did that stunt on purpose. Is that it? You just like me riled up because you know what I'm capable of doing to you?"
His voice is sickly sweet, his lips sucking obscenely on his fingers that were just inside you, groaning deep in his throat as he slides between your forced open legs, cuffed to the end posts of the large bed.
His thumbs come to hold your swollen pussy lips open, his expression that of admiration and contemplation, wondering just how much of a mess he can turn you into.
You're so cute when you yelp at the way he plays with your stiff clit, and when you shake and try to apologize, he just can't help but smile. You knew the consequences! Why are you acting like this is all a big surprise? Surely you have to be doing this on purpose!
The rose toy he got earlier that week, would that be good to try? Your toes curl and your voice goes hoarse when he gets a little carried away, and well, this isn't exactly supposed to be easy on you.
You wince, feet trying to firmly plant on the mattress as the toy vibrates and suctions right on your clit, your nerves set alight as you writhe and try to both get away and grind down harder.
"There you go again, acting like you don't love how I treat you. Honestly, you could use some acting classes" He says, deadpanned but not at all bored. He presses the toy down harder, sliding his fingers inside of your clenching and fluttering walls while you sob, wrists yanking in the bindings as the toy relentlessly sucks and makes your muscles taut.
Those pianist fingers only make it worse, the pleasure so intense it drives you up a wall. You didn't even have the cognitive ability to plead with him, it was useless anyhow, but this was making even thinking difficult. Without a warning, that cord in your stomach just snaps. And the mess that leaves you and your mouth makes you want to curl up and die.
Uramichi just latches his mouth to your pussy, sucking and drinking you in, firm hands holding you up by your ass as he takes every bit he can get. It's almost cute how easy it is to make you squirt. His cute sensitive little co-star.
"There we go, let it all out baby. See? It's so easy for you to be good for me like this! It's making me wonder why I let you be untied in the first place" He says aloud, dragging his thumbs up and down your swollen vulva as you sniffle and try to form any semblance of an apology.
It's useless. You know it is. But the panic doesn't stop your mouth from moving and speaking words that fall on deaf ears.
His fingers slide back inside, his demeanor changing as his palm presses against your abused and sore clit, fingers pumping and curling at a punishing, brutal pace.
"You're not fuckin sorry. Not yet. One orgasm? Please. I'll make you sorry. Make you cum again and again and again while you gasp and writhe, and beg me. Don't care if you pass out. Don't care if it hurts. You tried to leave. You have no one to blame but yourself."
The way he fingers you, deep and demanding, you can only openly sob as more wetness drips down to your ass. It's wet, sticky, the noises only make you feel more shame as the man comes to suck on your nipples, biting and tugging them aggressively as he works you into another orgasm, the pain mixing with the pleasure only making your brain all the more foggy and broken.
Two orgasms in and you're already sobbing? Goodness, you really know how to put on theatrics! But if you didn't want this you wouldn't be so fucking wet, taking everything he gives you, sucking his fingers in for more. Does he look stupid?
You wanted this.
"Look at you, creaming all over my hand, spraying like a faucet. I give you what you need, don't I? Make that nasty ache go away and give your little pussy what it needs. I can play you like an instrument, anyway I like" He grins, wild and manic as he grinds his palm against your spasming clit, only making you spill into yet another overstimulated orgasm.
You don't even get to call his name or take a breath before he reaches for the rose toy again, holding it in front of his face with a shit eating grin.
"I think you, the toy and I are going to be well acquainted by the end of this. Then once you're all nice and worn out for me, I can unwind by kissing it all better."
(Please god let there be no typos I haven't slept. Anyway I hope you enjoyed!!! -Mommabean )
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boiohboii · 10 months ago
Text
If she's around.
(Lando norris x leclerc!reader)
When lando decides to make a video along with two of his friends for their YouTube channel his girl of course had to make an appearance
or
In which ethan and ginge are always reminded of the fact that they are single.
Masterlist
N.b: just inspired by the new quadrant video, I loved it, obviously I have no idea if ginge or ethan are single or not, but for the purpose of this fic they don't... WARNINGS: not proof read, some swear words here and there (friends jokingly insulting each other), sexual implicantions?.... and I think that's it? If I missed anything else lmk please.
Ethan and Ginge did not think this through. They obviously got too excited about the idea and did not sit down to actually think about the consequences.
What are the consequences? That damn breakfast that Lando Norris is having them eat.
"This is criminal mate, I can see some good fucking food in there."
Ginge complained as he placed the cup underneath his nose, trying to see if the smell is as bad as the food looks.
"Ah no no, I can't give you that."
"Well, why not? It sure as hell doesn't look like you threw it up."
"That's the missus' breakfast, she'll kill me if I let you eat it."
Now, lando was just messing around. Yn was well aware of the fact that his friends were coming over and she prepared extra food in case they deviate from the video's plan.
"The missus?" Ginge asked as he took the spoon from the f1 driver "who is she? And why have I never seen her before?"
"What are you talking about, you've seen her before."
"I think I'd remember if I've seen a girlfriend of yours mate."
"You have ginge." Ethan answered as he looked at the red head "in one of the streams."
Farrowing his eyebrows ginge tried to remember, he was sure he had never seen lando with a girl before, he would definitely remember if- oh. oh. oh.
"No," ginge gasped as he looked at lando with uncertainty "no way mate. She is not your girlfriend."
"Umm, yes she is."
"No she's not."
"Yes, she is!"
"No, no she's not! She is too pretty for you."
Ethan chocked as he looked at Lando's disbelief of what his friend has said.
"Don't look at me like that! You know that she is too pretty for you"
Blinking, lando shrugged in agreement.
"Simp" ginge scoffed as he took a bite out of his breakfast.
"Well, i don't blame him man, have you seen yn."
"Looks like I will double the weights during training" lando has malice behind his smile, which made the two instantly shut up.
Interview room(ANGRYGINGE has a fear of flying)
" I'll be honest, I still believe that yn leclerc is way too pretty for lando. Like yeah sure he's an f1 driver but like aren't 2 of her brothers drivers as well. It would be so funny if they crashed into lando if he pissed her of or made her sad or something, a whole new meaning to the I will run you over threat."
"What time do you go to bed?"
"Ummm, depends."
"On?"
"If the missus is around, dirty bastard." Ginge answered "now, be honest, what time did you go to bed last night?"
"It was, um, it was early."
"You are lying through your teeth mate, I can see those dark circles."
"Hello boys."
"Dirty bastard." Ginge and ethan laughed harder at the coincidence.
"Hello love." Lando chuckled at her confused face as he pecked her forehead.
"What is going on?" Leaning onto his chest, yn looked at the two guests, wondering about their choice of words being the response to her greetings.
"Oh don't worry about it," wrapping his arm around her waist Lando rests his chin on her head " they were just asking if you being with me makes me go to bed at a later time than usual."
"Oh," yn giggled "i guess they're right? Sometimes we stay up reading a book or watching a movie, it depends on what's near us on the bedside table."
"Alright," lando started before taping yn's stomach and pointing to the firdge " you should have your breakfast and we should go back to what we were doing, yeah?"
Humming in agreement, yn turned around and leaned up to give lando a kiss on the cheek, but upon hearing ginge groan, the formula driver grabbed his girlfriend's neck from the front, redirecting her head so that their lips would meet.
"Oh come on mate, no need to rub it in!"
Being in the small makeshift home gym that lando has, the three brits started discussing what exercises they would be doing.
"First we'll start with a warm up, normally there's a few bands" looking around the room, lando tried to remember where he placed them last "they might be in our bedroom."
"How did the workout band made it into the bedroom?" Ethan asked as he started wiggling his eyebrows at ginge.
"Hey sweetheart," Lando's voice could be heard calling out "do you know where my exercise bands are?"
"They're in the bedroom," yn exclaimed "on your bedside table."
Ethan's eyebrows stopped mid movements while ginge's jaw dropped down "went to bed early lando, ehh, yeah yeah sure!"
Monitoring his friends' forms in a workout was not lando thought he would be doing on a day off where yn was with him without one of her brother's breathing down their necks. Speaking of his lovely girlfriend, lando saw her in one of his mclaren shirts and a short in the hallway, on her way to their bedroom he'd assume, with a bowl of what was either watermelons or strawberries.
"Sweetheart," lando spoke, ignoring the task at hand "can I have some please?"
"Of course mon soleil"
Entering the room, yn took a look at both boys before going straight to her boyfriend. Lando's friends were glaring daggers at him as he just placed his hand on the back of yn's hands as she placed a piece of watermelon in his mouth, making him hum pleasantly at the sweetness that filled his mouth.
"This is so unfair." Ginge complained
"I know mate, such bullshit, we should get to eat that as well."
"Yeah sure." lando agreed as yn placed another piece in his awaiting mouth.
"Well, now you're just being a dick. Come on yn, I want some as well."
"Are you asking my girl to feed you?"
"You're not letting me out of this workout anytime soon now, are you?"
"I think you should add weights onto their backs," yn stated as she smiled innocently at ginge and ethan "Charles, Arthur and Enzo always fo that to each other for the hell of it."
"Oh, you are evil miss leclerc, truly evil."
Ethan watched as lando told ginge to not lean with the weights pushing his neck, it was tough and they only had like a third of what lando usually does.
"So, who usually does this with you? Like you have to have someone to like push the weights, right?"
"Yeah yeah, usually it's my trainer, but then when something comes up or I just feel like training on my own it's yn who's helping."
"Oh look at him just rubbing it in that he has a girlfriend."
"Oh god," lando laughed in disbelief "you're the one who asked."
"The important question is," ginge started as he removed the equipment from his forehead "can yn do this? Like the neck training."
Lando stayed quite, thinking if he'd ever seen his girlfriend doing it or if her or her brothers ever mentioned that she does it. "No, I don't think so. Hold on."
Leaving the room, lando headed into the bedroom having a quick discussion away from the camera and the mics.
"So," lando said as he entered the room with yn behind him "yn will be doing the neck training, we'll go with 5 kilos."
"How about 10?" Yn asked as she took a seat on the bench
"What?"
"Well, for a while charles was convinced I'd get into a car crash and he took me training with him for like a year or something, it was insane."
"I'm sorry, what?"
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