#but also hes definitely advised against doing that

[glisten-inthedark]

Hi first of all, I'd definitely advise you to do saga by saga because when I tell you this hellsite put up on hell of a fight to let this appear on the tags I'm not kidding.

About Just A Man - I'm curious about why you believe that and I can't wait to read your thoughts, but it does makes sense considering how the song is structured so I can't wait to read your thoughts.

About the parallel, yep! To be honest, I feel that Odysseus was also being somewhat spiteful here - which he has the right to be - but still lmao. But in Get In The Water he was being incredibly genuine, he was offering Poseidon a true connection (did this give me an idea? Mayhaps) but my point is, he was doing so and as we discussed it before, was even close to reaching an resolution. But I guess in the end his own genuine emotion may have been what caused the drift because it's not something Poseidon knows or wants to deal with but alas, I won't ramble lmao.

About the island - while I agree I also can't help but wonder if he wouldn't have done something different before Polites' dead. While I don't necessarily find what he did dumb, I always wondered if that was something he did that way because of Polites' death or if he'll always go about it that way regardless of what happened before, you know?

That was the one thing that I kept going back to but when I think about it more - he does acknowledge that Aeolus' offer sounded too easy so with that I conclude that I don't know anymore lmao (and why is this my current feeling about Different Beast and Scylla?)

Keep Your Friends Closer - yeah, I agree completely. I think she was telling him how to beat the game and he just misinterpreted because of what happened before and I also don't think that Eurylochus would've opened the bag if Odysseus had trusted him.

Yeah the thing about Ruthlessness frustrates me a lot I'm not even going to lie.

And about the heart(beat) yeah is definitely telling, that's for sure. I didn't even think about it in the context of GITW because I obviously didn't get there but you're definitely onto something.

Anyways, thanks so much the additions and I hope you didn't get tagged 500 times when I was wagging my war against the Tumblr gods lmao.

Epic Analysis - Act I

So I made a joke a while back about analyzing the themes of the musical and that'd be ten pages long and it turns out I'm not that far off considering just act I has ~checks mark ~ 8 pages and over 4K words lmao.

I want to preface this by saying I'm pointing out things that I have noticed while listening to it - I'm no way claiming to be right about anything, and there things I may have missed or may have misundertood.I don't have a degree in music nor am I a professional writer/songwriter, so you can interpret the points bellow however you wish.

And to follow along with.

Red - Song titles

Orange - repeated sentences that appear later on.

Blue - motifs

I hope you all enjoy and please do me a favor and like and reblog this with your thoughts because I lost a good amount of brain cells doing this.

Also, please share your thoughts and theories, too <3

And if you kindly could like and reblog so this can reach new people I'd be greatly appreciated.

The Horse And The Infant

We get our first introduction to Odysseus' electric guitar with his motif.

We also learn a bit about Odysseus himself - he can operate well under pressure, he is a good captain who knows the strength of his men and he also says: "Neo, avenge your father (Achilles) kill the brothers of Hector"

We hear a heartbeat when he's thinking about Penelope and Telemachus. (This will be important later on, trust lmao).

Zeus appears and we can hear his synth base.

We hear the music box that will later be heard again.

Odysseus begs Zeus to not make him kill the infant.

"Please, don't make me do this"

"The blood on your hands is something you won't lose, all you can choose is whose".

Just A Man

We get our first introduction to Odysseus' acoustic guitar.

But when does a comet become a meteor?

When does a candlе become a blaze?

When does a man become a monster?

When does a ripple become a tidal wave?

When does the reason become the blame?

When does a man become a monster?

Is important to note that the acoustic guitar disappears completely as soon as Odysseus decides that he has to kill the infant to ensure the lives of all of those he loves. It's also important to note that despite providing Zeus with alternatives, he still does what it takes as he said he would not long ago.

Here we also learn of Odysseus' hunger - And his is vastly different from pretty much any other character - because his hunger is about seeing his wife and his child - is not literal, but rather metaphorical.

And another interesting fact - we hear a choir singing back Odysseus' words back to him and that won't be the first time that it happens.

There's a possibility that's the crew doing so - but if he's in the wall and they're bellow, how exactly do they know what's happening there? And how can they hear what's he's saying?

I point this out because Jay himself has claimed that only gods can summon their own choir, so - what exactly is happening here?

Full Speed Ahead

We are introduced to other character and one foe that arguably poses more threat than the gods - hunger.

And Odysseus has enough hindsight - at that moment - to know that there was something was off because he could see fire but no smoke, which is an interesting thing in and on itself considering that we often say that "where there's fire, there's smoke".

He also stops Eyrulochus from barging in the island and states that he should go ahead with Polites, because they could find a way of no one ending up dead.

But when Eyrulochus states that they don't know what's ahead, Odysseus says that if they don't return six hundred men can make the whole place burn. (This is interesting, and quite telling if I say so myself).

Full Speed Ahead serves to drive the plot forward, but also gives us insight into Odysseus' mindset prior to Polites' death.We close the song with Ody's eletric guitar again.

Open Arms

We are presented with Polites' philosophy about kindness and greeting the word with open arms.

"You can relax my friend"

"Greet the world with open arms"

We can hear a (heart)beat - not to be confused with the heartbeat we hear in the name of Penelope - as soon as the minions ented the sound space with "welcome" and the beat remains there until we hear Polite's say: "See".

I said not to be confused with Penelope's because this beat does sound like a heartbeat - it picks up the pace and slows down but is not present in every song nor is it present in every section of the songs it shows up in - which leads me to believe it might mean something (unless it's a random beat, but I'm being honest I have a hard time believing that).

So our first theoretical introduction to this sound happens when they are near perceived danger - but we all know what the danger motif sounds like at this point (which I won't tackle because is everywhere and it doesn't feel necessary as off now).But the beat disappears as soon as the situation is resolved and it does not appear again.

And again, Odysseus is warning the winions that if they don't make it back safely, his men will burn the island down. And here, Odysseus presents Polites with the idea that Open Arms with no discernment can sometimes lead them down a path they do not wish to go - "that's what you get with open arms".

But when they manage to "succeed" living by what Polites' said, Odysseus begins to ponder which is why Athena shows up.

Warrior of The Mind

We are introduced to Athena as a character and we hear her motif for the first time.

We hear the heart(beat) again as soon as Odysseus asks Athena to show herself. So here it seems to be present again near perceived danger, or at the very leas near the unknown.

And we hear his electric guitar motif right before she asks what his name is.

Polyphemus

Again, we hear the electric guitar and his motif but on a different scale than what we usually get (I'm pretty sure)

And not for the first time, we have Odysseus having enough awareness to notice that something is off, because everything is too perfect.We hear the heart(beat) again once Polyphemus asks "who are you?"

Here is the first time where said beat can be perceived at different metric sections than they'd normally be for a normal beat, here they are present in certain words.

At first, we hear it constantly until Odysseus says they come in peace, and they stop and come back in the word "sheep". It appears between that and favorite, and appears again in "favorite", again in "right" and "deep", and then in "know" and then the beat is gone.

But is important to note that in this first section, we only hear one beat per minute.

It stays gone for a good portion of the song and it shows up again as soon as he stops saying: "A gift for you and a gift from me" and it sounds a little bit more stuttery in this part but is gone again before Odysseus says his name is "nobody".

And we hear the electric guitar again in this section. And then the beat again - this time two beats per minute.

This is the first instance in which we hear the beat associated with actual danger, but not only danger but also presented in a context of someone claiming they come in peace right after they kill a sheep that was there just minding its own business and then in a context where one of the parts is being manipulated but has also made up their mind about things will end.

As for the song itself, there are some things I find interesting in it because I don't think we talk enough about how the themes are connected, or about this particular theme that I'll touch on again.

But Polyphemus asks Odysseus what gives him the right to deal that kind of pain - i.e: the pain of losing his friend sheep, and asks him if he doesn't know that pain he sows is pain that he'll reap and proceeds to warn him that he'll learn that is not so fun to take."A trade you see, take from you like you took from me".

Everyone talks about how this line is foreshadowing to him taking Odysseus favorite person from him - and it is! But it also shows us something else: Consequence (which isn't the first we see off and won't be the last). Odysseus himself will later say he didn't lose any of his men in the war - because up to that point - he was a brilliant commander that thought up an idea to bring a horse into a city so that they could win, but before Astyanax - which is a point I'll make later on -, Odysseus was never presented with the consequences of his own actions.

This isn't an argument about who was right or who was wrong - but objectively, about the principle that every action has an reaction, and that's when Odysseus will learn this the hard way. So the song and the character are telling him (and us by extension) that Odysseus entered the cave, killed the sheep and that actions will have consequences. He obviously didn't know that he was killing something important to someone, especially someone that could kill him - but that's the thing, whether he knew or not doesn't matter to Polyphemus. He still felt the pain of losing the sheep, and because he felt that pain, he had to make Odysseus feel the same.

There was an action, that action caused someone pain, and so because of it, that pain must be felt in the same way to be understood.

And then again we see Ody's mind at work - with him tricking Polyphemus with the lotus wine -. Odysseus is trying to fix the situation with a gift - as a way of saying, I may have taken something from you, but here I am giving you something back -.

"A trade you see, a gift for you and a gift from me"

I also find it interesting that Odysseus talks about the power that's in his hand when referring to the wine. I understand that apparently it was Dionysus' wine, but if we think about another possible meaning, it could also refer to Polyphemus own thirst (and his father's, by extension) which is the thirst for power, not on the traditional sense but rather on the sense that he felt his power over the island and the sheep was taken away, so in order to gain it back, he must kill the people that took it from him.

Survive

We hear Zeus' reprisal of The Horse and The Infant but I'm pretty sure the tempo is a little bit faster than what it is in the previous use of it.It could be because the same way Zeus ordered Odysseus to kill Astyanax, he's ordering his men to kill Polyphemus who also happens to be a child Cyclops - but I think there's more to it than that.

We hear the guitar again.

Odysseus explicitly states he's ready to kill. "Is just one life to take".

"When we kill him then our journey is over"

We don't hear the heart(beat) here at all.

And then Polyphemus takes over the song and the motif as well, and kills Polites.

And then he says "You've hurt me enough".

"Six hundred lives I'll take, six hundred lives I'll break, and when I kill you then my pain is over" (Sidenote, I was looking at Spotify and the lyrics there were "then my deed is over" and it make me question everything because I always heard it as pain and everywhere else has as pain so yeah, Spotify sucks).

Going back to the point, I always found it interesting that Polyphemus would say that when he kills the men his pain will be over. Because it made me wonder - does he mean his literal pain or the psychological one? Is not like he didn't care about the sheep - he did - quite a lot. So is it possible that he's not referring to just the physical pain but a different one too? Because here he sounds more vulnerable than he did in the previous song when he says "enough, you've hurt me enough". He doesn't even sound angry, but rather quite vulnerable.

So if my interpration is correct - this is also the first time that Odysseus sees the emotional pain he caused on one of his foes, but is also the first time we have another character stating that for said pain to be over, the thing that caused it has to be dead.

Remember Them

This is Odysseus "coming to terms with his losses" (I'll touch on why this is on quotes later). But we again get his eletric guitar and Odysseus resilience being brought to the forefront.

He goes back to his military mindsight quite fast considering what just happened, and he delivers his orders very fast at that moment.

And after a whole song without the (heart)beat - it appears again when the other cyclops appear in the soundspace and ask "Who hurt you" and it disappears as soon as Athena appears.

So here the beat appears again in perceived danger - but also when someone is actually hurt.

And this is when Polyphemus is presented with the consequence of his own actions as well. He killed some of Odysseus pain out of retribution because Odysseus killed his sheep - so now Odysseus stabs him in the eye so that they can get out of the cave -.

And now, instead of killing the Cyclops, he decides to let him live, which will have consequences. As I said before, one song ago Odysseus was ready to kill him, but he had no qualms about doing so either; however, as soon as Polites dies Odysseus' whole mindset changes.

He decides to spare him like his friend would have wanted, but he also gives his own name away due to what I can only surmise to be resentment. Is almost like he's saying: "This is the man, that unlike you, has mercy".

Also, this is what Odysseus says:

"Remember me. I'm the reigning king of Ithaca"

"I am neither man nor mythical"

"I am your darkest moment"

"I am the infamous Odysseus"

And again we hear a choir in the background as he says all of this. Could the choir be the crew? Maybe - but if that's the case, why would they enter when this is singularly about Odysseus himself?

My Goodbye

We get Athena's motif again.

This song does a great job of recontextualizing Warrior of The Mind.

We hear Odysseus' guitar again - and I believe we get both of them although I'm not entirely sure if I'm being honest. I touched on this before, but I find it interesting that Athena tells Odysseus that he needs to put his emotions aside while actively being emotional herself. She's the one that's berating him, calling him a waste of effort, she's the one that sings a whole break-up song about it while Odysseus just wants her to be gone.

The lyrics and the musicality show us that Athena does care about him - we can feel that especially after Odysseus tells her that she's alone because of the notes on the piano, is almost like his words have a physical effect on her -.

Storm

The trumpets!

And we have Aeolus' motif.

Luck Runs Out

"How much longer 'till your luck runs out? How much longer 'till the show goes south?"

You rely on wit and people die on it"

Here we have Odysseus blindly deciding to ask a god for help. When we consider the fact that he just lost his best friend because he decided to barge in some place he shouldn't have, his choice to just climb to the top and ask for help makes even less sense, unless, you consider the fact that he took Polites' advice about "just asking for help" to heart.

Then Odysseus states that he still believes in goodness and that people can be kind - and we'll later learn that remains to be true even after everything - but he doesn't seem to grasp, yet, that blind goodness/kindness can have consequences - is no wonder we always say that no good deed goes unpunished.

Now, remember when I said that before Odysseus could both grasp when something was off because of the lack of smoke or because something was too good to be true? Why does that change? And it does, because he should've known how gods are - hell, he just had a huge blowout with one a few songs ago -, so why does he lose this hindsight all of a sudden?

Eurylochus' concerns are very valid - he has a point about Odysseus' relying too much on his wit to get people out of situations. He shouldn't have questioned him in front of the entire crew, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have a point.

Here, we also get a glimpse of Odysseus' current state - he says that he took six hundred men to war and that none of them died there -, which is true, but why isn't he addressing those who died after?And get the (heart)beat all over this song too.

Keep Your Friends Close

We have the (heart)beat again.

Is interesting that Aeolus' remark about keeping friends close and enemies closer led Odysseus to be distrustful of his crew, and yet, the god didn't say not to trust the crew, she just said: "Keep your friends close".

But because of what just happened one song ago, Odysseus doesn't feel like he can trust the bag to anyone else, which means he doesn't switch shifts with anyone and ends up falling asleep.

"So much has changed, but I'm the same".

Storm motif.

Full Speed Ahead motif.

Poseidon shows up.

Ruthlessness

Oh, this song!

First of all, the lyrics do a great job of presenting us with Poseidon philosophy and character

"Guess the pack of wolves is swimming with the shark now" This line here, oh is beautiful. Because Poseidon acknowledges that Odysseus and his men are dangerous (the pack of wolves) and that they can be brutal in their own right - he's not taking away their merit like many would in this circumstance -, but he's saying they're swimming with the shark (him). Meaning: They are under his domain now, under his control, and he now has the upper hand because he's not only distant from them but also has more power. (Credit to Mortius for the amazing analysis of this line)

"Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves"

I touched on this before, but I needed to highlight how I have seen far too many people completely miss the point of this song - not only on YouTube but also here, for some reason -. People argue that Poseidon asked for an apology which Odysseus didn't give and that's why he killed most of his fleet.

No.

The entire song is an exposition of Poseidon's philosophy - it's a way of showing us that he doesn't believe in mercy or kindness, that he believes that in order to survive one must be ruthless at all times. He's literally saying: "If you had been ruthless and killed my child, I wouldn't be here right now because I wouldn't know who did it".Or even then - I don't think he'd have sought Odysseus out. The reason he does is precisely because Ody decided to be merciful instead.

So is not like he's looking for a genuine apology - there was nothing Ody could've said that would've made Poseidon spare him -, he's just toying with Odysseus at that point.

Odysseus' apology (which he gave, in the ancient Greek way) wouldn't amount to anything.

We hear the (heart)beat again as soon as Poseidon tells Odysseus is time to say goodbye but it gets faster as soon as Odysseus enters the sound space and it stops completely on the word "scape".

"Captain, captain, captain"

When does a ripple become a tidal wave?

"When does a man become a monster?

"I am your darkest moment"

"The monster that always draws near"

We actually get Odysseus' acoustic guitar here too. Now, I'm still debating why Jay decided to reprise Just A Man here, especially with the ripple and the tidal wave (obviously, because they are at sea and all that, but I believe there's more to it than that).

If we follow the idea of consequence, it could suggest that this is the ripple effect of Odysseus choosing to spare the Cyclops, but it could also imply more about the Vengence Saga.

And as I said before, is interesting that Poseidon states that he's a monster and I wonder - did he mean it literally or figuratively? And I also wonder, how does Jay mean it? Because the whole concept of the man and the monster - besides reminding me of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and how in said book the allegory presents the duality of human nature, and how the balance between darkness and light is what makes one truly human - makes me believe that we might have an allegory at play here.

If - and that's a huge if - Jay is going for a similar allegory with Odysseus' arc it makes sense that he'd choose two disparate symbols of it (the man and the monster).So share your thoughts on this topic because I'd like to know.

Puppeteer

Full Speed Ahead motif.

There's a debate about whether or not Ody knew Eyrulochus was the one who opened the bag but we can talk about this later.

Circe's motif.

Here - we are once again presented with the theme of hunger - for food and for a woman/ for sex (let's be real) - and the "a woman" line always takes me out. We also get some context into Circe's character - a woman turning men into pigs once she feeds them -.

At first, we aren't clued in on the reason why she's doing. All she says is "think of your past, and your mistakes. They'll be the last mistakes you make".

And we again are presented with someone who has power and seeks to maintain it. This is our first introduction to her - she simply states that she has all the power and that she's not playing with people, but rather manipulating them like a puppeteer does.

She has the strings and she controls the outcome because she can twist and bend people to her will. The closest we get to something deeper is with the line "the world does not tend to forgive".

Wouldn't You Like

Hermes! I love him but there's not to say about this song, except that Hermes tells Odysseus that Circe can make him fall in love with her - so the fact that she tries and fails tells us exactly how much he loves Penelope.

Done For

Odysseus' guitar and motif.

The heart(beat) is very present here.

Here we are presented with more information about Circe's motivation. She states that she has people she needs to protect, nymphs she can't neglect. So in order to maintain control and power over the situation, Circe preemptively strikes before any harm can be done to her or the people she cares about.

Odysseus here tries to trick Circe but she doesn't fall for it. And the thing, Circe and Odysseus' reason isn't different at all - both want to protect the people they care for, but they're going at it in different ways.

She does tell him that the last time they allowed people to live, they faced a heavy loss. We don't know exactly what happened, but once can only assume that it wasn't pretty, so Circe learned from it and decided to use of her art of persuasion to get what she wanted.

There Are Other Ways

Here, Odysseus starts to repeat back what Circe said in her own song, almost as if he's slowly following her lead, until he thinks about Penelope and we hear her motif and her viola.

Here Odysseus vulnerability and the proof of his love for his wife is what convinces Circe to help them. She must've come across countless men before and I think is safe to assume none of them denied her before.

And that's the thing about Circe - when presented with a good reason to help, once she realizes that Odysseus just wants to go home, that he loves his wife so much that even after twelve years (lol) he remains faithful to her, and is desperate to see her, and that's a good enough reason to help him.

Circe already knows who she is, already knows what she's capable of and what she's fighting for.

Odysseus is on the way to figuring that out.

The Underworld

Full Speed Ahead motif.

"All I hear are screams"

The bells we hear are ringing the same notes that we hear in The Horse And The Infant as soon as Odysseus finds Astyanax.

"Captain, captain, captain"

"This life is amazing when you greet with open arms, whatever we face we'll be fine if we lead from the heart... Greet the world with open arms".

"Waiting" with Odysseus' motif on a different scale on the piano.This is the first time Odysseus truly addresses what has happened and what he's gone through.

Here he is, looking for the prophet to help him get home, and yet he's being haunted by the voices of those he lost and their last thoughts before they died. Yes - he's hearing their literal screams as they pass the river Styx, but is more than that. For the first time, he can actually see the consequences of his own choices and his actions.

No Longer You

Tiresias' motif.

"There is a world where I help you get home, but that's not a world I know" - This line here is brilliant, because not only addresses the fact that in the original poem Tiresias does tell Odysseus what to do and what to avoid, but it also further solidifies that this is very different from the original epic.

I see a song of past romance (Siren's song)

I see the sacrifice of men (Scylla's throat)

I see portrayals of betrayal (Mutiny)

And a brother's final stand (Lightning bolt)

I see you on the brink of death

I see you draw your final breath

I see a man who gets to make it home alive but it's no longer you

No Longer You is a great way of setting the stage for the next act, by providing Odysseus with a vague warning about a man who is hunting and a man with a trail of bodies behind it, it allows his mind to wonder and the ponder who that man can be. The interesting thing is - Tiresias is telling that the man that makes it back home is no longer him - as in no longer Odysseus, as in no longer the current Odysseus -.

At that moment Odysseus already has a trail of bodies behind him. Whether or not the deaths in the cave were his fault isn't the argument here, but rather that they happened and happened under his command. But here Odysseus is presented with a future and a past he can't change or can't control.

Monster

Odysseus' guitar motif that gets pulled away.As discussed by my amazing mutual @rin-solo in her Monster essay, Odysseus is non-judgmental by nature.

Monster is Odysseus debating if mercy is not the thing that has been killing his men all along, if him caving to guilt is the reason they're not making it home. He's not justifying the actions of his foes, he's not saying they're morally right in doing what they're doing.

Is the Cyclops struck with guilt when he kills? Is he up in the middle of the night? Or does he end my men to avenge his friend And then sleep knowing he has done him right?

When the witch turns men to pigs to protect her nymphs Is she going insane? Or did she learn to be colder when she got older and now she saves them the pain?

He's simply questioning if these people are allowing themselves to be stopped by guilt or by mercy, he acknowledges their perspective, he acknowledges that them doing the things they way they're doing them is what keeps them alive.

"Ruthleness is mercy upon ourselves"

Here Odysseus addresses those he lost again, and is the first moment where it feels like he's really allowing the grief and the hurt to set in.

I said it before and I'll say it again, Monster doesn't seem to about Odysseus choosing to become a monster because he wants to, but rather because he feels is the only thing he can do under the circumstances. With the context we get from songs that will come, Monster seems to become more and more about Odysseus not wanting to feel guilt about the choices he knows he'll have to make to make it back home.

He wants to throw the guilt he feels away:

"Does a soldier use a wooden horse to kill sleeping Trojans cause he's vile? Or those he throw his remorse away and saves more lives with guile?"

Monster also seems to be Odysseus' way of starting to understand his own morals, of coming to terms with them, of accepting things about himself that he didn't seem willing to do up until this point.And once again, we hear a choir in the background singing the words back to Odysseus.

[charmac]

I hate to defend Rob but seeing Sunny teens on Twitter try to speculate he isn't "speaking up" about voting because he's hiding being a secret Trump supporter is so insanely ridiculous when campaign contributions in the United States is public information:

(Yeah. That's a $100,000.00 donation to a grassroots victory fund, on top of a ton of donations to swing states.)

It's almost like making public political statements on social media is heavily advised against when you're a showrunner/employer to hundreds of people.

[deadpresidents]

"What emerged in two interviews with Trump, and conversations with more than a dozen of his closest advisers and confidants, were the outlines of an imperial presidency that would reshape America and its role in the world. To carry out a deportation operation designed to remove more than 11 millions people from the country, Trump told me, he would be willing to build migrant detention camps and deploy the U.S. military, both at the border and inland. He would let red states monitor women's pregnancies and prosecute those who violate abortion bans. He would, at his personal discretion, withhold funds appropriated by Congress, according to top advisers. He would be willing to fire a U.S. Attorney who doesn't carry out his order to prosecute someone, breaking with a tradition of independent law enforcement that dates from America's founding. He is weighing pardons for every one of his supporters accused of attacking the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021, more than 800 of whom have pleaded guilty or been convicted by a jury. He might not come to the aid of an attacked ally in Europe or Asia if he felt that country wasn't paying enough for its own defense. He would gut the U.S. civil service, deploy the National Guard to American cities as he sees fit, close the White House pandemic-preparedness office, and staff his Administration with acolytes who back his false assertion that the 2020 election was stolen."

-- "How Far Would He Go", TIME Magazine's interviews with Donald Trump, April 30, 2024.

I know we're saturated in coverage of Trump and it's easy (and probably better for our mental health) to usually ignore most of the articles when we see them, especially since he's so full of shit and infuriating. But it's also important to recognize that he is going to be the Republican nominee for President and he could absolutely be elected in November, and if you thought his first term was scary and dangerous, you need to understand that in a second term he's going to have people around him that are better prepared and VERY willing to do the crazy shit that he wants to do to this country. They aren't even hiding the fact that they are seeking vengeance against political opponents whom they feel have wronged them, and are ready to fundamentally dismantle the democratic foundations that are barely holding this country together after nearly 250 years.

Just look at what Trump says about the people who he incited to attack the United States Capitol in an attempt to overturn the results of the 2020 election and halt the peaceful transfer of power that has happened every four years since 1789:

"Trump has sought to recast an insurrectionist riot as an act of patriotism. 'I call them the J-6 patriots,' he say. When I ask whether he would consider pardoning every one of them, he says, 'Yes, absolutely.' As Trump faces dozens of felony charges, including for election interference, conspiracy to defraud the United States, willful retention of national-security secrets, and falsifying business records to conceal hush-money payments, he has tried to turn legal peril into a badge of honor."

Oh, and please note that Trump -- a former President of the United States and possible future President of the United States -- said on the record in these interviews with TIME: "There is a definite antiwhite feeling in the country and that can't be allowed either." We are at a point where political leaders are outright saying that in this country again, and it's because of Donald Trump.

So, take the time to recognize that Trump is straight-up telling us the country we're going to be living in if he wins again in November. And understand that your vote matters -- and WHO you vote for matters -- because, as I've been saying for years now, ELECTIONS HAVE FUCKING CONSEQUENCES.

[please-destroy]

In Safe Hands

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 3.8K

.

Natasha didn’t want to get up. 

You’d checked your phone to find several missed calls and a litany of text messages.

You’d barely checked the contact name before you were driving to the Avengers Facility. The texts were from more than one Avenger, but they all said the same thing.

Natasha didn’t want to get up and she wouldn’t tell anyone why.

Steve had tried to coax her out first. He’d rested his head against Natasha’s door and knocked twice softly when she didn’t show up in the gym that morning. 

‘Leave me alone.’ The voice had called out calmly from within. Steve had taken the command readily, looking a little lost until Tony had found him later.

Tony’s attempt was even less successful. Something heavy had definitely been thrown at the door. It had poetically accompanied Natasha’s less calm call of ‘Fuck Off’.

Tony had told Bruce about it when they’d crossed paths in the labs and Bruce had headed up soon after. He’d knocked on Natasha’s door once. He’d brought her a cup of tea and he told her so. 

‘Drink it somewhere else.’ Was Natasha’s advice, the door remained pointedly shut.

Bruce, Tony and Steve in his wake, had sought out Clint straight away. Clint laughed loudly at them all. He took the cup of tea from Bruce, unpaused the TV, and advised them to stop trying to get murdered.

That was when Tony had decided to call you. You hadn’t picked up and he’d called three more times.

Now, you were standing outside Natasha’s door, with three witnesses for your attempt. You tried the door handle, it wasn’t locked and you rolled your eyes at the obvious solution.

‘I’m coming in.’ You announced, opening the door. You slipped into the room like a shadow, closing the door fast behind you to ward off the others.

You turned back to face the room and your eyes found Natasha in the bed. First, you surmised that Natasha did not look grievously injured. This was relieving, because you could never be sure. She also did not look happy about your intrusion. This was expected.

Natasha was half sitting up in bed, propped on pillows. Her arms were crossed in front of her, proving her mastery of subtle body language. The braid in her hair was loose and messy, the loose strands of hair framed her face in a way that undermined the crossed arms.

You surveyed her from the door. Natasha surveyed you right back.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ You finally asked.

‘No.’ Natasha replied immediately.

You kicked off your shoes and moved over to the bed. Natasha looked affronted, but she didn’t say anything about your approach. Her eyes kept wary watch as you scooted across the duvet to her. 

You kissed her cheek and she froze as your lips brushed her skin. 

‘You need some TLC.’ You told her seriously. Natasha looked confused. 

‘I’m not getting out of bed.’ Her eyes narrowed slightly and she bit her bottom lip.

‘That can be rule number one.’ You promised immediately, moving to lean back on the bed. After a pause, Natasha gave a tiny smile and settled back against her pillows. You stole the corner of one pillow for your own head rest. She assumed a silent nonchalance and stared off into the distance. You didn’t even last a minute in the silence.

‘What else?’

Natasha’s head turned to face you. You brushed a piece of hair from her face, and continued. ‘Can we watch something?’

Natasha hesitated, eyes tracking your fingers as they moved away from her face.

‘Yes.’ She said finally. ‘We can watch something.’

She briefly described the gory horror film that was her first choice. You gave her a long suffering look and put on Great British Bake Off instead.

‘It’s meant to be TLC, not Freak Me Out.’ You muttered at her halfhearted objections. You took the chance to make yourself more comfortable, moving to lie under the bed covers like Natasha. When your legs brushed along her bare ones, her breath hitched a little.

You kept your eyes on the screen and turned up the volume.

You made it until halfway through the Showstopper Round before you couldn’t take it anymore.

‘Are you getting hungry?’ You asked, trying not to drool at the meringue on screen.

‘No.’ Natasha replied definitely.

‘Steve said you didn’t eat breakfast.’ You frowned, mouth tugging down at the corner.

‘Steve’s a little bitch.’ Natasha muttered under her breath.

‘Natasha.’ You sang her name like it would encourage her to be reasonable. She gave you a funny look.

‘I told you I’m not getting up.’ She repeated firmly.

‘Just give me the orders.’ You gave her a two fingered salute and a silly grin.

‘I want wine.’ Natasha said after a minute. ‘And snacks.’

You took notes on your phone when she got into the specifics.

When you returned, you both let the TV show continue in the background, but neither of you paid it any more attention. The day had drawn on and you’d started to talk. You both sat above the bed covers now, Natasha with one leg drawn in to her and the other stretched out.  The white bed sheets caused you little thrums of anxiety when either of you poured out more wine.

When the bottle was empty and Natasha had half a glass left to finish, she hummed out a thoughtful sigh and stared down at the liquid. The atmosphere changed and you tilted your head, cautious but anticipatory.

‘I went to the grocery store early this morning.’ Natasha admitted like it was an illicit activity. ‘And there was this kid, this little boy.’ She held her hand out to indicate a height, which was meaningless as she was sitting on a bed. ‘He was crying.’

You tried to read Natasha’s eyes. They looked troubled and your heart started to sink for what could have happened to the kid to throw her off like this.

‘He ran over to me.’ She continued miserably, still looking down at the wine glass. ‘He’d lost his mom and he thought he knew me from the television. And he came right over and grabbed my hand and he asked me to help.’ 

You waited a few seconds for the shoe to drop, worried by her pause.

‘And?’ You pressed hesitantly.

‘And then we found his mom.’ Natasha confessed ‘And she hugged me.’ There was another ridiculous pause.

‘And what did the police say?’ You teased sarcastically, trying to understand the tension.

Natasha looked down at her free hand, fingers splayed as it rested on her leg.

‘You don’t understand.’ She murmured. ‘It was crazy. He just grabbed my hand, like I was someone safe and he already knew it. Like I was a police officer or something.’

‘You are someone safe.’ You said quietly and certainly.

‘These hands aren’t.’ Natasha countered immediately. She stared at her hand like her crimes were tattooed on it.

You took her wine glass and settled it with your own on the nightstand, before turning back to her. You took both of her hands, bringing them to rest on top of yours, palms facing up.

‘These hands have saved lives.’ You said somberly, a little tipsy from the wine. ‘I love these hands.’

You ran your fingers along the back of them, brushing the ridges of her knuckles.

‘The kid in the store was right. These are safe hands.’

You surveyed Natasha, her hair still in the messy braid and her tank top slightly off one shoulder. She surveyed you too. 

You knew Natasha was going to kiss you before she leaned in.

.

Tony told you that inviting Natasha to a friend’s wedding was a big step. But, ever since Tony had found out about you two he’d been trying to psych you out for fun.

You told him what you told the rest of the Avengers, and Shield, and whoever else wanted to be involved in your business. It was a mutual friend’s wedding. Actually, it was a double mutual friend’s wedding. What were the chances of two Shield agents getting married? Well, Maria would probably tell you all the exact statistics in her maid of honour’s speech.

Natasha was technically on the invite list for both the bride and the groom, and so were you. The fact that you were going together was technically inconsequential. That was what dating adults invited to the same thing would obviously do.

You had already hyperventilated in the mirror about it, but that wasn’t Tony’s business.

Natasha’s hairstyle fitted the formal event perfectly, and the dress that she wore glittered a little under the hallway lights. Natasha squeezed your ass purposefully as you walked together into the wedding reception. You were going to enjoy removing that dress as soon as you got home.

You danced together, her head on your shoulder for the slow songs. You’d forgotten Clint would be invited, he crossed his eyes and pulled a goofy face at you every time you spun past his table.

When you finally returned to your seats, the rest of the table had already moved away to socialise. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, you left Natasha sitting and went to fetch drinks from the bar.

You checked back over to your table while you waited for the bartender, Natasha’s attention was not on you. There was a little boy walking over to Natasha. One of the youngest of the children free roaming around the venue, he might have been three years old. His hair was blonde and unruly, his cheerful smile beamed excitedly at your girlfriend. 

Natasha gave him a fixed sort of stare, like he was an incoming object that she would have to face head on. He approached her enthusiastically. The bartender came back with your drinks and you paid without even looking at the card machine. The little boy had reached Natasha’s knee, a hand touching it confidently. He grinned at her again and even with some distance you could see him start to speak.

Natasha replied with a very careful smile on her face. The boy’s expression turned serious, he played with the glittering fringe on the dress, clearly asking about it. Natasha’s smile turned softer, her eyes gentling at the way he pushed his curls back when they obscured his eyesight, not letting it deter his rambling monologue.

You took a sip from your own drink, not willing to go over and break the moment just yet. You watched the boy tug at her dress slightly and his questioning head tilt. You saw Natasha’s quick intake of breath as she scooped him up in one movement, letting the little boy sit on her lap. The boy looked thrilled and his hand reached out to touch her necklace, obviously the intent of his request. He smiled delightedly and so did Natasha.

Her eyes flickered to you and you saw the awe in them along with the nerves. You gave her a big smile, moving back with the drinks.

.

You sat across from each other at a diner. Today was the day after your one year anniversary. You hadn’t celebrated it at all, Natasha had been called on a mission. Plans had been cancelled last minute. You’d been sad but not mad. It didn’t matter though because all you’d really been was quiet. Natasha’s promises of making it up to you had only made you feel guilty for how you felt. 

It had been a mess of a morning until you’d tried to rescue the day, taking Natasha back to the location of your first unofficial date. Luckily, diners often took walk-ins.

Before the waitress even had time to bring your drinks, two girls hurried over to your table. The older looked around thirteen and the younger was maybe seven. Their long dark hair gave them away as sisters. 

On arrival, the maybe-seven-year-old opened her mouth to speak. There was an awkward silence as no words came out and she gaped a little. Her sister jumped in to help, stuttering from the outset.

‘Hi, miss - uh Black Widow. Can we get a photo with you?’

You’d never seen Natasha’s mouth hang open in shock before. Her expression was not dissimilar to the younger girl’s.

‘That sounds great.’ You interjected quickly, already determined to be the most helpful wingperson to these girls. ‘Do you have a phone with you? I can take the picture.’

The girls still looked uncertain until Natasha pulled her features into a weak smile. The probably-thirteen-year-old handed you over an iPhone.

You eyes were immediately drawn to the black phone cover which was emblazoned with the black widow logo. You looked at it pointedly and grinned at Natasha. Natasha gave a small smile back, confidence growing. Her arm moved to reach across the shoulders of the girls who had shuffled onto the booth seat.

‘Oh my God.’ Mumbled the older one, turning tomato red, ‘She’s touching me.’

You snorted under your breath as you took the picture. Natasha’s eyes were brighter than you’d ever seen them. Her smile still wasn’t big, but it was soft and sweet.

Before they left, the younger girl turned and spontaneously hugged Natasha. Natasha returned the hug automatically, treating the small figure with the utmost gentleness. 

The girl buried her head in Natasha’s hair and mumbled something hurriedly. The older girl glanced at you like she both wanted the ground to swallow her up and that she was also deeply jealous of her sister.

‘Thank you.’ Natasha murmured back, then glanced at the older girl. ‘It’s been great to meet you.’ She said sincerely, pretending not to see the girl blush all over again.

When the girls walked out the diner, you took out your own phone. Natasha saw you preparing to take a photo and started to roll her eyes. The smile didn’t leave her face as her eyes moved back to the diner door.

‘Just let me take one?’ You asked softly. ‘I want to remember that smile.’

The way she agreed, told you that Natasha wanted to remember it too.

.

Natasha invited you to spend Christmas with her and you agreed immediately. You hadn’t immediately realised that it meant spending it with Clint too. You knew only the basics of Clint’s retired life with his family. You’d been nervous to arrive at a farm in the middle of nowhere, knowing that you couldn’t leave the premises for the next few days. 

It very quickly became one of the best Christmases of your life. Firstly, Clint’s wife, Laura, was one of the coolest people you’d ever met. She was kind, sweet and provided a level of Christmas cooking far superior to your wildest expectations. Most impressively, she would issue directives to Clint and Natasha and they would occasionally listen. You’d thoroughly enjoyed watching Natasha peel a mountain of potatoes on Christmas eve, until you’d been roped in by Laura too.

The Barton children were like Natasha’s personal solar system. The alter ego of ‘Aunty Nat’ was perhaps Natasha’s most flawless cover. She hummed with admiration at Lila’s artwork, making a show of keeping it safe in a special folder that she’d brought with her to the farm. The folder was not thin and not the first volume.

Her in-jokes with Cooper were both nostalgic and recent. You’d wondered how often Natasha visited here to keep up the shorthand between them so well. Then as you watched a Christmas movie with Lila and Natasha, you had heard the audio of a viral video and Cooper’s laugh from the other room and then watched over Natasha’s shoulder as she received the same video. Her response consisted only of a Gif and emojis. You wrapped your arm around her when you realised that ‘Aunty Nat’ had taken the time to learn to speak Cooper’s language.

Natasha also insisted on teaching Nate words in Russian throughout the day. She would carry him on her hip and point out objects, telling him the word in Russian and praising all his attempts to repeat it. 

Then, you’d ended up in a semi-circle on the floor with Cooper and Lila as they eagerly repeated the Russian words that they’d learned from their Aunty Nat, back when they were Nate’s age. They tried hopefully to catch you up to Nate’s level in half an hour, assuming your embarrassment at knowing less of the language than he did.

When Laura had declared that Christmas morning wouldn’t start until 9am the next morning, you had been the only one stupid enough to believe it. 

Lila had bounced directly onto Natasha’s side of the bed at 6am. Once you recovered from your mini heart attack, you let out a repressed scream into the pillow. Natasha looked like she’d already been awake, smoothly reaching out to tickle Lila ferociously as she giggled and squirmed.

Soon, you sat like a zombie with a mug of hot chocolate, watching the children rip open the wrapping on the presents. Clint sat next to you, looking very similar. He had been Cooper’s victim that morning. 

The presents from Santa and Mom and Dad stood off to the far side of the Christmas tree. The kids obediently only destroyed those from the pile that Natasha had snuck in the day before. You realised quickly that Laura’s exact meaning had been that her Christmas wouldn’t start until 9am. But, all bets were off with Aunty Nat’s presents.

Natasha sat comfortably on the ground between your legs, leaning against the sofa. She moved between a look of satisfaction and wistfulness as the children narrated their Christmas aloud to the room in real time. Her hand trailed up and down your pyjama clad leg absentmindedly.

You’d finished your hot chocolate and set it on the side table when the shift in the atmosphere became palpable. Cooper and Lila exchanged glances, and with a forced casualness that proved neither were ready for professional espionage work, they left the room quickly.

Natasha and Clint exchanged a look that told you this wasn’t a typical part of Christmas with the Bartons. You ran your fingers through Natasha’s hair, letting your thumbs rub at the base of her neck. She leaned back a little into the touch.

Cooper bounced back into the room a minute later and Lila followed, clearly hiding something behind her back. She shuffled into the room, always facing Natasha.

‘We made you something.’ Cooper announced loudly and elbowed his sister who thrust out a large rectangle book.

On the front, in the centre, was a carefully hand drawn cartoon of Natasha, surrounded by sketchier drawings of all the Barton kids. It was clear that, while most of the drawings were by Cooper, Lila had insisted on drawing the image of herself. At the edge was a very hastily drawn stick figure giving a wave. It was obviously only carrying a bow and arrow to make it identifiable as Clint.

Underneath, in large bubble writing that had been filled with glitter, it simply said.

‘We Love You Aunty Nat.’

Your hands moved automatically to Natasha’s arms, bracing her through a flood of warmth you knew she would be experiencing. Natasha looked up, stretching her neck to see your face directly above her. Her eyes swam with tears.

‘Thank you so much guys.’ She rasped out. ‘This is the best present I’ve ever gotten.’

‘Don’t be silly.’ Lila sighed, rolling her eyes, ‘You haven’t even opened it yet.’

She sat down next to Natasha then, taking the book back and opening it at the first page, which was littered with bright pictures and uneven handwriting to describe them. Cooper sat down too, between Lila and his dad. Clint rested his arm on his son’s shoulder and couldn’t have looked prouder. He gave you a happy grin too. You stayed quiet, wanting the perfect moment to last as long as it could.

Lila explained the photos, the creative choices and the shared memories behind them in extreme detail. Natasha nodded, never not looking like she was about to cry. You combed through her hair with your fingers and had achieved a respectable braid by the time Laura descended the staircase at exactly 9am.

.

At 2am, you woke up alone. That happened sometimes. One of the realities of living with an Avenger was that Natasha often lived on a near opposite sleep schedule. Nevertheless, you got up, yawning as you padded through to the kitchen to find her. 

You saw the light of the open laptop before anything else, and wandered over to where it sat on the desk. A mug hit the kitchen counter loudly, before you could see anything past the brightness of the screen. Your heart thudded and you turned around, eyes adjusting to see Natasha’s figure in the dim moonlight streaming through the kitchen window.

‘Don’t laugh at me.’ Natasha said awkwardly, picking the mug of tea back up. ‘And don’t make it weird. It’s not a thing for right now.’

She was wearing an oversized hoodie with the hood up, a typical outfit for her at this time of night. It also made her look like she was caught in the process of burgling her own house. You raised an eyebrow at her and took a step closer to the laptop screen, desperately curious to know what it was all about.

A video entitled ‘Adoption 101’ sat open, filling half the laptop screen. The video was played through to around the halfway point, a woman had been paused on the screen midspeech. The other half of the laptop screen was filled with Natasha’s typed notes.

Your mouth fell open into an ‘O’ shape as you tried to process. 

‘Please don’t make it weird.’ Natasha said again, assessing you carefully from behind the counter.

You didn’t hear her properly, a rush of warmth flooding through you. Your face lit up

.

‘You want to be a mom?’ You asked, blinking away the tears as if she wouldn’t notice them anyway.

‘Yes.’ Natasha said carefully, purposefully adjusting the string of her tea bag, so she could look away from you. ‘I think so. One day.’

You spun on your heel, facing the door that you’d just entered through. Natasha’s eyes raised in confusion, a flash of anticipated rejection.

‘Make me a tea.’ You ordered, pointing at her with faux firmness. ‘And rewind the video back to the start.’ 

You started walking back to the bedroom. 

‘I need to get my notebook and a pen.’ You called over your shoulder as you left.

[utilitycaster]

I really like Taliesin elaborating on the inspiration from the 90s LA punk scene, in which he said a lot of the people he knew were just people looking for hope in a world that has been incredibly unfair to them. It's a very empathetic view towards people who, as he said, often are dealing with injustice and disadvantages.

He also mentions that many of these punks were dealing with drug and alcohol problems (and while he did not want that to be central to Ashton's character and wanted to focus instead on chronic pain for a number of reasons, including personal, Ashton definitely relies on alcohol for palliative reasons). More generally, we see Ashton look for hope and answers in a lot of places that end up being extremely incorrect. The most obvious one is with the shard of Rau'shan, which, after multiple people advised them against taking it with very clear warnings, they decided to still attempt to absorb, with nearly-fatal results; but there were flashes of this with their earlier cynicism towards Eshteross vs. a much more begrudging acceptance of the transactional worldview of Ratanish or Jiana Hexum.

Ashton often places his own pain in a position of honor, and in doing so can discount that of other people. He's been remarkably unlucky, to be clear; I think that's part of it. We as the audience know that their statement that no one in that room has felt helpless in their lives is demonstrably false about pretty much all of Vox Machina and their allies, as well as the Bright Queen. He says Keyleth maybe does know, not realizing that of Keyleth and Vex, one has been a homeless runaway rather like himself, and it's not the one he's saying knows helplessness. In a way, to hold on to that hope, they find themselves telling themselves a lot of lies because otherwise they have to face the truth that their suffering did not make them more qualified or better; it was just unfair and it might still keep happening. He blames the gods because then at least there's a reason and not just absolutely random chance that he was born to a self-important cultist, happened to survive a long-shot ill-advised ritual and wake up in the desert of another continent, happened to be the one thrown out the window of Hexum Manor, and happened to be saved with a Potion of Possibility. To be clear, they've since made a name for themself on their own merits, but a lot of who they are, both in terms of the traumatic and difficult elements and in terms of what now makes them special was dumb luck, good or bad.

For Ashton, for those LA punks Taliesin knew, for the Vanguard and for Ludinus and for countless people in Exandria and in our actual world, a lot of grasping for hope becomes grasping for a meaning for pain and suffering. I'd argue that this is a pretty major theme Taliesin explores with all his characters. However, just because the pain is real doesn't mean the conclusions one comes to as a result of it are inviolate and above reproach. It is possible to have extremely valid pain and trauma and to be incredibly wrong about its source or what it means, or to deal with it in ways that will either make it worse or that will inflict pain, even inadvertently, on others. And I think the theme of the campaign is very much that; what happens when someone either chooses to or must let the decisions they made to deal with a moment - or a life - of pain be writ large on both themselves and the world?

[gabbytbll]

SYLUS HEADCANONS Pt 2

SFW! AND NSFW!!!!

Part 1 masterlist 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭

Love and deep space💫

Authors note: it's definitely not gonna be as good since I can't find my computer😭 so I'm stuck with my phone and I'm very limited so I hope you like it!!!! Also sylus is going to be OOC!

MDNIII!!!!!

Warnings!!:Spit kink, Cockring, Cock warming, possessive sylus!!, passing out, Chains, Wax play, Anal Penetration, Teasing, Big dick sylus!!, Dick piercing, Sex toys, P in V, Voyeurism, Eye contact, Gagging, Breath play, Humiliation.

SFW!

• He loves to take you to the gym to show off his muscles and abilities.

• He loves to randomly show up to your work with some food or just to randomly pick you up and take you home (even tho you can he insist).

• He's the type of guy that threatens your boss for over working you!

• He loves to just be around you even while he's doing his work, or just sitting there and staring at you!

• He hates when you and the twins plot a prank against him he thinks it's childish (but he loves it).

•He thinks it's funny when you get scared of a bug but he still kills it for you while giggling like a child.

•He does not get along with your coworkers, he thinks they are weak and do not deserve your time!

•He likes to think he owns you because you do everything with him and I mean everything.

•He buys you everything even tho you might not like it, you tell him something looks nice and next thing you know it's yours!

• He buys you a bike like his, even tho you don't know how to drive it or if you do know how to drive it he will still have so much fun!

NSFW AHEAD!!! MDNIII!!

Sexual content be advised

NSFW

°When the both of you are having intercourse he loves to grab your face and make your mouth open so he can spit on you or in your mouth.

°He loves to tie chains around your hands to make it more spicy in bed (plus he thinks it's better than hand cuffs because he can grab a hold of it better to pull you back on his dick!)

° He has the ball gag next to his bed in his drawer(which you didn't know about) he randomly puts it on you when your being too much of a brat!

°He loves how you sound as you have the ball gag in your mouth he likes to think it looks cute on you!

°Sometimes when he's feeling more freaky then usual he will let a candle burn on the nightstand to use it on you.

°He loves watching the wax roll down your chest or your thighs,stomach,etc he thinks it's hot.

°He likes when you try to make him submit(aka putting a Cock ring on him) he uses it against you in ways you didnt expect.

°He will make you cock warm him if you put a cock ring on him in his mind he thinks if I suffer then you suffer, he loves how you get desperate for him to move.

°Since he loves to randomly surprise you by showing up where ever you are he has caught you masturbating multiple times so he just sits there watching you unnoticed while hard.

°He never had a dick piercing but he heard you talking about it with one of your friends and saying how pleasing it might be, the next day he got a frenum piercing (but he was sad he couldn't have sex with you for a while to let it heal)

°While he's fucking you he loves to choke you hard enough to where your face gets red while he makes you stare into his eyes (he does this rarely just when he's in a bad mood and needs to let off steam).

°He left a vibrator in your pussy when you and him tried anal for the first time to make it more pleasant for you!

°He likes to call you names in bed like slut,whore,my fuck toy,etc.

°When he's about to fuck you, he loves to tease you by slowly pushing his tip in your pussy and just pull out when you make a sound.

°One time after you and sylus had 5 rounds you passed out in the middle of him fucking you because it was to much for you to handle.

Well I hope you like it! I kinda rushed it to

But please give feedback and make sure you like and comment I appreciate it!!💫

©️ gabbytbll. do not copy, repost, or translate across other sites. do not copy my sentence structures, plot or characterization.

[mianexil]

◇ The way they take care of you during your period ◇

◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇

💫 [ Girl, I hate this heavenly punishment for being a woman. But don't worry, these sweet kittens will take care of you during this lame time ]

◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇

ㅡ Suo, Umemiya, Kotoha, Sakura, Tsubakino, Kaji

Suo

Suo has found warm-ups that alleviate the pain of cramps so that you use less painkillers (after all, they can have a negative effect on the body). He comes to you and does this workout with you. He also brings tea that has a calming effect and makes it for you.

Suo is patient enough, but in your case, it can be said that he has a separate oasis of calm in reserve for you. If you feel like a mess, then he will take you on his lap and hug you. Not too tight, so that you feel more free, but not too weak, so that you feel comfortable until you get up yourself.

Suo is not simpleton. He studied the intricacies of the female anatomy when you started dating so that nothing would catch him off guard in the future. Therefore, he understands why this is happening scientifically but doesn't understand why the world is designed so that the wonderful sex suffers every month.

Umemiya

A white-haired man runs out of the "Pothos" and Kotoha shouts after him.

《 Don't forget to buy a heating pad!! 》

And all because 2 minutes ago you wrote that you needed his warm embrace.

Umemiya is absolutely fine with the topic of menstruation. He is one of those guys who will go to the store and ask the saleswoman to advise him on the topic of pads/tampons.

What are the safest ones for your health? Which are the most convenient?

Hajime will study everything with a serious attitude in order to take good care of you during this period.

He will definitely download the calendar app and set your dates there to prepare in advance.

And of course, he went to Kotoha to get a lecture on how best to take care of you.

Don't worry, honey, Kotoha will definitely bring him up strictly as it should be.

Kotoha

God, this girl is so sweet. Next to her, all your bad feelings seem to be blown away by the wind.

Who but a woman will understand another woman.

She'll take good care of you: sweets, painkillers, hugs, everything for you.

She will definitely take a day off from Pothos to be with you during this period.

Long, sweet conversations to distract you from feeling unwell, cooking delicious omuraisu for you, it's all about Kotoha.

A cozy movie night? Definitely.

Well, if you want ice cream, then there is always Umemiya, whom she will send to the store as a deliveryman.

Sakura

This boy doesn't understand women's stuff at all. Of course, he will be confused at first when he hears an explanation of why you look so exhausted.

Sakura can't stand the sight of the only person he let into his heart suffering so much. He wants to help, but he doesn't know how, and because of this he is very angry with himself.

It's understandable, this little savage does not even know how to take care of himself properly, what does it say about taking care of others? However, this does not mean that he does not want to.

《 Damn, stop suffering in silence. Just tell me, what should I do? I'll do it right now 》

Sakura will blush like a tomato, standing in the store at the shelf with feminine hygiene products, but this does not mean that he won't get a full bag, because his embarrassment can't be compared with the desire to benefit you.

Upon hearing your request for a hug, Sakura will turn to you all blushed, but as soon as he sees your slightly swollen, tired eyes, his body will start moving on its own. Embarrassment doesn't stop him anymore, this is not the time to worry about it.

His arms wrap around you, pressing you against a warm body as if you are about to disappear and he has to hold you.

Yes, he's not experienced in such things yet, but he's trying his best for you.

Tsubakino

Tsubakino is very gentle, but when you feel bad, he reaches his peak.

Tasuki has never experienced anything like this, but he's very knowledgeable about this topic.

He immediately notices when you feel bad, even if you try to hide it. And he will immediately take you home to give you a sense of comfort and relaxation.

Tsubakino will distract you from unpleasant sensations with all sorts of beauty treatments: moisturizing face masks, manicure, massage, everything for your comfort.

Do you want some sweets? ㅡ He will bake you cookies.

Do you want to cry and lament? ㅡ Don't keep it to yourself, honey. He will wrap you in a plaid, and his gentle fingers will wipe the tears from your eyes, holding you in a tight embrace for as long as it takes.

Kaji

Kaji will leave the patrol of the city, leaving it to his team to be with you at this time.

He doesn't quite understand how best to behave in such a situation, but his beloved feels unwell, which means he will do everything he can to make you feel better.

Ren will listen to your instructions and silently run back and forth, doing them.

He will bring you a jar of lollipops from his house so that you can choose what you like.

If you want to complain about your condition, he will listen to everything, and then put his headphones on your ears, turn on calm music and sit next to you, stroking your hand.

◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇

[ssahotchnerr]

jack & ellie trying to make soup for a sick aaron🥺🫶 they’re like tossing around dry pasta noodles in a pot 😭😭🫶

- 🧶

sick day

WAIT you just gave me an idea so let me elaborate i hope that's okay 🫶🏻 cw; mentions of sickness, dad!aaron, fem!reader, fluff <3

Jack and Ellie were huddled underneath the shade of a tree, heads together and busying themselves away with something.

The window above the kitchen sink allowed clear visibility into the backyard, letting you keep an undeviating eye on them. It was a bright summer afternoon, all windows in the house were open, a cool breeze sweeping in. You could easily hear and observe the two of them, while also doting on your sick husband.

This morning, you awoke to a sweaty Aaron beside you; cowlicks and t-shirt drenched. He was sporting a sore throat along with his fever, as well as a lingering headache. Last night he had even returned home early, the fluorescent lights of the BAU not having mercy on his head.

"How's it going?" You peered your head into your bedroom, Aaron buried deep under the comforter. While it was quite warm outside, he had stated he was freezing.

A muffled, "Fine." came from beneath.

"Need anything?"

Another incoherent mumble in response.

After obtaining him more water (and making sure he drank some) you went forth with your day, cleaning up the kitchen's mess after lunch. As you did so, the screen door rolled open, slamming with a shut.

"Watch fingers." You advised, continuing to place dirty cups into the dishwasher. With the two of them coming in and out of the house so hastily, you were eager to prevent potential broken fingers.

In your peripheral they passed, rather slow for their usual nature. It raised your suspicions immediately, causing you to slow, before committing to follow. Especially when Ellie recalled the word dirt.

They ventured upstairs and into your bedroom. It was dimly lit; lights off and curtains pulled, the slight sheerness of the fabric allowing the sun to subtly brighten the room. Again the windows were agape - allowing fresh air to circulate through the room.

"Daddy." Ellie whispered, her face close enough to his whereas he could feel her breath on his face.

"Hm?"

"We made you soup."

Her words snapped him out of his feverish haze, both his eyes opening and heart melting in one go.

"You did?" Aaron gingerly sat up, using his elbows for leverage and leaning against his pillow. He purposely strained his voice; finding his soft, Dad tone and attempting to push past the hoarseness; sounding as normal as possible.

Jack produced a small bucket, one that usually remained within the sandbox. Instead it was filled with water, dirt, grass, miscellaneous leaves; anything the backyard could provide.

The contents took Aaron by surprise, stalling for a split second once in his grasp. Dumbfounded, but extremely touched.

"Do you like it?" Ellie asked, clambering onto the mattress besides him.

"I do." Aaron commented, offering her a smile. "It's... organic, that's for sure."

"Bunnies eat grass." Ellie explained, looking from the 'soup' to him. "'member when we found the baby bunnies? You said they eat grass to be healthy and strong. So this will help you not be sick."

Aaron's face softened more; the logic making complete sense in her little mind - why wouldn't it? He laughed gently, and naturally he didn't have the heart to tell her it was inedible. "Thank you sweetheart, that's real kind of you. Did you make up this recipe all by yourself?"

Ellie nodded, a thoroughly pleased expression on her face. "Jackers helped too. He put the water in from the hose and added the leaves."

"I didn't tell her you couldn't eat it," Jack quickly whispered to him, "she really wanted to give you something that could make you feel better."

Aaron offered him a look, an understanding between the two of them. "Well, it definitely is making me feel better. I can promise that."

"Really?" Ellie blinked up at him.

"Really. I had no idea I had such skilled chefs for kids." He coughed; his voice was slowly beginning to give out, the more he spoke.

"Like Grandpa Dave!"

Aaron laughed brightly, ignoring the burn in the back of his throat and the heaviness in his body. "Just like Grandpa Dave."

"Here," You pushed yourself off the doorframe, where you had been silently (and pleasantly) observing. Ellie had been a bit too close for too long, and you could tell Aaron was gradually fading.

You took the 'soup' from him, internally grateful all of it had stayed in the bucket despite traveling up a flight of stairs. "Why don't I take this. Daddy needs to get some rest, that'll help him feel better too."

"Peace and quiet."

"That's right, peace and quiet." You echoed Ellie as she hopped off the bed, touching her head gently to gesture her out. You flashed Aaron a smile as the three of you exited, one tugging onto his lips too as he drowsily eased back against his pillow.

[queers-gambit]

Tell Me Every Terrible Thing [ part one of two ]

part two: And Let Me Love You Anyway

prompt: you embark on a secret but passionate affair with the Rogue Prince, and when his wife, Rhea Royce, passes away, he chooses you to wed next - a decision that angers his niece and changes history.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!Hightower!reader -> hair color specified reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 5.6k+

note: what the fuck is this, Cherry? also two parts 'cause author gets carried away!

warnings: show spoilers, cursing, author has small bouts of feministic ideas, author also really likes the "little birds" storyline (let her live!), wonky brain is wonky, i think hurt and comfort, angst, very mild NSFW (brief female receiving oral), technically alternative timeline 'cause this goofy-ass author has an overactive imagination, #icanmakehimworse, another reader insert (this warning is for the fucking losers in my inbox).

"How angry do you think he'll be with me?"

You offered your best friend, The Realm's Delight, Crowned Heir to the Iron Throne, Princess Rhaenyra, a unamused, stale look. Sarcastically, you replied, "Oh, come now, Nyrie, why would your father be angry? It couldn't be because you rejected every suitor His Grace put before you, or even how you abruptly ended the tour with two months remaining. What father would be angry after that?"

She groaned, "I know, I know, you don't have to be so right all the bloody time. I just... I couldn't do it anymore, you saw what it was like," her head bowed and you knew the girl was truly overwhelmed by her 'job' picking a suitor.

"This was no easy feat to arrange, Princess," you spoke diplomatically, aware of the ship's crew dotting around the royal ship. "Our fathers went through much difficulty to ensure this tour's success, Princess, and I'd imagine neither will be thrilled by our early arrival."

"But it's just - "

"I know," you soothed with a knowing, sympathetic smile. Your arm extended around her, her head dropping to your shoulder for comfort. "In an ideal world, women would have a real say in their futures. Perhaps, that is what you're meant to do, Nyrie... Perhaps you're meant to break this wheel, give the other half of humanity a fighting chance against the men who have long suppressed us. Being heir is a monumental stereotype to shatter, but most women are not born into royalty and have nobody protecting or defending them."

She picked her head up to stare at you for a single moment, then nodded slowly, "That's a lot of pressure."

"Less if you pick a respectable man to help you lead," you advised softly, reaching to caress her cheek briefly. "You're to be Queen, Nyra, which means you need a King Consort that the common folk will respect, who will play his part in the courts to come. I know it's not ideal, my friend, but it's not meant to be - it's meant to be strategic." You paused, adding, "Similar to Ali marrying your father, yes? That was a strategic move on my father's end. Now it's up to you to chose your own match, to plot your own strategy."

"Who would you see me marry?"

"In truth? I'm unsure if anyone would fit the bill perfectly, so, I don't know who I could see you with. Definitely someone smart, though."

She only hummed, sighing deeply and making you frown. Before another word could be said, there came a distant screech that sounded all too familiar - though you refused to let it show that you knew this particular dragon's sound.

Nyra moved away from the ship's railing to stare longingly up into the sky, and about a minute later, without visible sight of any threat, Ser Criston Cole was shouting, "Take cover!"

And then, like a bird swooping to snatch a fish, a crimson dragon descended from the cover of clouds - seemingly materializing from nowhere. The large, long, slithery beast with wings knocked into the ship's main mast; jolting everyone on board enough to topple over.

You tried to stabilize the Princess, but you lost balance and dropped to your knees as Cole rushed to help Rhaenyra to her feet. When able, you looked to the sky; grinning to yourself as you recognized the retreating Blood Wyrm. Seeing the distinct form of Caraxes made you giddy with anticipation, however, that was short lived as you clocked Rhaenyra's gaze of awe and wonder.

It seems she was excited for her uncle's return, too. Though, it won't be till later that you learn the extent of her adoration.

Less than an hour later, the ship was docking and you escorted Princess Rhaenyra from aboard; her guards surrounding you both as you trekked to the Red Keep. "Just... Perhaps try to stay invisible," you advised your friend, arm-in-arm. "The King won't be pleased if you interrupt court, even just by being there. With luck, we won't be noticed."

She agreed softly, continuing on. She started fiddling with her necklace, the piece of Valyrian Steel jewelry that her uncle, Daemon, had gifted her years ago before Queen Aemma passed away. Your lover had told you the Princess was owed a piece of her Valyrian history, and since he could not gift a sword to a young lady, the necklace was chosen, crafted, and gifted.

When you returned to the Red Keep, it was just in time for court to be called to session and your friend was all too eager to join. "Nyra," you warned, hand in hers.

"It's all right," she assured, "come, it must be Daemon - "

"No, I should return to my chamber. Don't piss your father off too much," you warned her with a smirk, watching her grin in response, squeeze your hand, and then file into the Throne Room with the other members of court.

You retreated to your old room, sighing in relief when you discovered nothing was disturbed. "My Lady!" A voice gasped at the open door. You glanced over, smiling at Milah, your usual handmaiden, and opening your arms when she rushed forward. "You're not supposed to be back yet! Oh!" She tutted, looking you over. "I'll get your bed made and - "

"No, it's fine - "

"Nonsense, let me do this," she insisted, already busying around the room. "I was wondering why they were bringing things into the foyer - must be all the Princess' luggage, hmm?"

"Yeah," you sighed, helping her strip the bed and change the sheets. "It was strange," you admitted, "the men, I mean, and the way they all competed for her hand in marriage."

"Did you expect anything else?"

"I did not think they'd honestly kill one another. Though it was more so their pride than the Princess they fought over."

Milah smirked, "Sounds about right. Well, what of you? Anyone catch your eye?"

"Of course not," you sighed a little sadly.

"Still hung on the Prince, aren't you, my Lady?"

"Perhaps," you mused.

You spent the better part of an hour gossiping with Milah before she had to go grab a few things, but promised she'd send your belongings up as soon as possible. You thanked her, walked her out, assuring you were just going to get a bath or something, and just as you shut and locked your chamber door, gasped when a pair of hands seized your waist.

"Daemon!" You hissed when you saw the short, white locks of your surprise guest. "The bloody fuck is wrong with you?" You demanded, turning in his grip to shove your hands into his chest. "What're you doing here? Want to get us caught?"

"Three years," he grit, gathering you in his arms to heave upward and force your legs around his waist if you wanted to keep balance, "three fucking years I've been gone - away - missing you, do not deprive me a moment more."

"Someone will come looking," you whispered, caressing his face as your forehead met his. "And perhaps I want a moment to just look at you, 's been years," you breathed. "You cut your hair," you commented, running your hands through the short strands.

"I cut my hair," he agreed softly, just holding you close and tight.

"I like it... But I'll miss braiding it."

"I will, too," he admitted. He nuzzled closer, inhaling your neck sharply, boldly licking a flat tongue up your pulse point to make you shudder lightly.

"Daemon," you whispered, pulling his head back so you could look in his eyes, beaming, "I missed you, too."

"Viserys is arranging a lunch for my return," he informed, turning so he could approach your newly-made four-poster bed; dropping you flat on your back with a grin. "Which roughly translates into only allotting a few minutes to make up for lost time."

"We will have time later - "

"I overheard Viserys saying he and Otto intend to take evening tea with you regarding the Princess' return from tour," he eased, reaching to spread your legs, bunching your skirts. "But I will call upon you tomorrow? Yes? Officially?"

"If you insist," you teased, letting him finally descend to smash his lips against yours. In truth, you were used to his empty promises of 'calling on you officially' because of his marriage to Lady Royce, but it was his way of telling you without words that he wished it was you instead of Rhea.

Daemon groaned, melting into your form; breathing heavily. "I've missed you past words," he whispered, nuzzling your nose with his. "But for now, I just need a taste - "

"We don't have time - "

"We'll be fast. Tell me, love," he nipped your pouting lips, soothing his tongue over the puckered skin, "have you taken another in my absence?"

"Of course not," you hissed in offense.

"Good," he nodded, kissing you sweetly.

"Need I ask?"

"There were no concubines," he mused, "though, they were offered, I did not accept. So, we'll be quick - faster than quick," he promised, pawing at your undergarments and exposing your dampening cunt to his sight. "I'll take my time with you later, but for now, I need this," he all but seethed before diving tongue-first into your core.

His spit mixed with your arousal, creating a slippery mess.

"Shit," you hissed, grabbing his shorter hair as his tongue flattened to lap at your entrance, dripping in your essence. One of his hands held your thighs apart for his access, the other releasing his cock from the pair of breeches he wore. Daemon groaned at the taste of you, lapping wildly like a man starved, and stroking his bare cock in rhythm with his ministrations.

It truly took no time at all once he found your clit and sucked mercilessly, the hand holding your thighs now extended up to paw roughly at your tits. Alternating his tongue around your sloppy cunt added to your heightening pleasure, swirling his tongue as he bobbed and shook his head - making an absolute mess, and causing your climax to shatter your mind and soul.

Your legs twitched, spine curled, stomach contracted as your arms quivered from the rush of adrenaline; hand slapped over your mouth to keep your moans to a minimum. You grabbed his hair so tightly, he groaned in mock pain; legs then contracting to a suffocating grip around his ears and head while Daemon met his own end, spending in his hand whilst milking you for all you had.

He panted with satisfaction when he pulled back, grinning at you in mischief when you released your hold on him. "Good fuckin' girl," he praised, standing to his feet only to slither over top of you. "Like not a day's gone by, huh?" He whispered, kissing you messily, smearing your cum on your tongue; grinding his bare cock into your recovering core to make you shudder. "Take a moment, then get ready," he whispered. "I expect to see you at the celebrations... Wear that dress I got you for your fifth-and-twentieth nameday," he smirked, adding, "if you'd so please, my darling."

You chuckled, "You magically learned manners during the war?"

"Perhaps," he mused, pecking your lips again.

"Hey, Daemon?"

"What is it, my sweet one?" He asked, seeing the sincerity in your eyes and hearing the seriousness in your voice - something in his heart jumping.

"Would you tell me about it all later? The war, I mean? Would you tell me what you've endured?"

"I do not think it's a tale befitting a lady's ears."

"Please? I wish to know..."

"Then I will tell you," he promised, "but only if you wear that dress."

Your eyes rolled in humor as Daemon stood. You watched him wipe his cum on a spare rag, tossing it away, and after one last kiss, was leaving out of the secret passageway's door. Taking another moment, you finally stood on weak legs and unlocked the main door, preparing how you could for your day before Milah returned.

After arriving at the luncheon, you made a beeline for your father, greeting him happily before explaining your surprise reappearance. He filled you in on that day's court, explaining that Prince Daemon was back; and you felt almost guilty for the way your skin was still set ablaze from your lover's earlier visit.

For all Otto's faults, he was still your father, and you felt guilty for sneaking around with Daemon behind his back. Your father ushered you off to mingle, insisting he was only there for the King; and no, he wasn't hungry. So, you parted ways with a chaste peck to your forehead; the feeling of his scratchy beard lingering on your guilt-riddled flesh.

"Sister, what a surprise!" Alicent happily distracted by greeting you with a bright grin. You adjusted course to approach the Queen, King, and newly-returned Prince. "Oh, what a lovely dress you've chosen," she complimented with ease, reaching for your hand. "You always do have the best eye for clothes, I feel as if need you to live in my wardrobe, tell me what to wear everyday."

"Thank you, Your Grace, I'd be honored," You smiled at her, holding her hand, looking to the others. "My King," you curtsied to Viserys, glancing at Daemon and bowing your head respectfully, "my Prince, how nice to see you, again. Welcome home."

"Thank you, my Lady," he smirked. "Might I welcome you home as well? I hear you've been gone from the Capital."

You hummed with a nod, "I was on tour with the Princess, my Prince. I've only arrived home today, as well - though not by dragonback."

He eyed you up and down, offering, "I must agree with the Queen, my Lady, that is a lovely dress you've chosen."

You pet the black material, smiling genuinely, "Thank you, my Prince. It's one of my favorites."

"I can see why, given how beautiful you look," he flirted, and from behind you and Alicent, you could hear your father scoff.

"Thank you," you whispered. "What conversation did I rudely interrupt before?"

"Oh, nothing of importance," Daemon told you, looking to his brother and your sister.

"Because we spoke of how Daemon, here, was always Mother's favorite," Viserys grinned. "Do you want to know, my Lady? About how much Mother adored Daemon?" He asked you, his little brother trying to drone over him - but Viserys was determined to tell you the examples he could think of regarding his brother's favoritism.

You giggled from both Viserys' stories and Daemon's evident embarrassment.

However, almost awkwardly, on Alicent's other side, Princess Rhaenyra approached the group and stood amongst you. You knew the King must be unhappy with his daughter, but did not voice any opinion since you were not the source of disappointment at the moment. Instead, you listened to the King's complimenting words to his brother; thinking it was interesting that Daemon was so egotistical and yet, flushed under his brother's praise. Princess Rhaenyra waited until a natural lull to tell Daemon, "Congratulations on your victory."

It was awkward as Viserys just glared at her, Rhaenyra's expression falling short. Daemon covered smoothly, "Thank you, Princess."

Trying to save the tension, your sweet sister offered, "Perhaps Prince Daemon would care for a tour of the gallery? He hasn't yet seen the new tapestries gifted to you by Norvos and Qohor."

Viserys nodded and whispered, "Oh, oh," mockingly. He asked his brother, "Would you like to see the tapestries?" But by the end, he broke character and laughed with his brother; the latter who whom you knew spat on trivial things - such as tapestries and such. Through their laughter, Viserys proclaimed to his wife, "He has no interest in such things!"

"But thank you for the offer, sister," you smiled at her, trying to reassure her when her husband laughed in her face. "The tapestries are very beautiful, you've chosen a grand place to display them. I saw them on my way here."

"I'd like to see them," Rhaenyra jumped in, seemingly to Alicent's aid - something she'd not done in an age considering the tension between them. You just smiled politely, seeing the way Viserys dropped his grin when he looked at his daughter with distain while the rest of you looked away sheepishly.

"Then you should not deprive yourself."

Rhaenyra offered a pained, pursed smile, "I shall enjoy them alone."

You, Alicent, and Daemon all stared after Rhaenyra with varying degrees of pity as she walked away to sit solemnly by herself on a distant bench while Viserys went on about his and Daemon's youth; over Daemon being their mother's favorite. However, Alicent excused herself to follow the saddened Rhaenyra, perhaps to offer the Princess comfort in her father's anger. The King looked ready to protest, but instead just shook his head in disappointment.

Viserys turned you and Daemon away from the sight of the girls, showing off the Godswood in bloom; your father approaching you three stiffly. "Your Grace," he bowed to Viserys, then nodded in resepct, "my Prince. Daughter," he smiled, trying to instigate, "how was tour with Princess Rhaenyra?"

"Oh, as eventful as a Royal Tour can be," you smiled, deflecting, "though I must admit, while seemingly exciting at some parts, I'm sure it pales terribly in comparison to the Prince's adventures in the Stepstones." Viserys smirking broadly at your redirection. "I do wonder, what brought the war to an end? We've heard rumor, but surely the Prince might know for sure what brought the Triarchy down?"

"Surely," The King nodded, looking to Daemon expectedly.

The Rogue Prince smirked and readjusted his stance, deflecting, "Perhaps a conversation for later."

"Oh, come now, brother!"

"Your Grace," Otto interrupted, "I do apologize, but there are matters at hand that require your attention. The Tully's still - "

He sighed and waved your father off, "Yes, yes... Well," Viserys nodded, "I'll call upon you both later."

"Your Grace," you instantly curtsied.

"Your Grace," Daemon bowed right after. Viserys smiled and nodded back at you both, patted his brother's shoulder, turned, and when he walked away, Otto followed with a single look to you and Daemon.

"Daughter," he bid curtly - and you read between the lines. He really wanted to say, "Do not linger around the Prince."

When the King moved, his usual procession of advisors, guards, and entourage followed right after. You sighed as almost all of the Godswood cleared out, Daemon eyeing you as he readjusted his stance; subtly reaching out to pet your hand with his fingers.

"Daemon," you warned quietly.

"Nobody is watching us," he smirked. "You look beautiful, love. I'll have to buy you more dresses, you wear them so well."

"I cannot believe I will not see you tonight," you whispered with a pout.

"I will call on you tomorrow," he reminded.

You opened your mouth, but another voice answered. "Sister," Alicent called, you looking over and smiling innocently. You caught sight of Princess Rhaenyra glaring at her uncle, but didn't think much of it.

"I look forward to your tales from the Stepstones," you told him calmly, offering a curtesy.

He took your hand, pressing a soft kiss to the back, "I look forward to any time spect together, my Lady."

You hummed in contentment before stepping away, instantly taking Alicent's arm when close enough. "What was that about? Daemon looks so smitten!" She whispered with a growing grin.

"He was being polite," you whispered back, "and simply being Daemon - you know how he is. He's got three years of mischief to make up for."

"I see," she giggled. "He's quite handsome with the short hair, isn't he? It suits him well."

"I have to agree," you gossiped. "I can see why the ladies of court have missed him so."

Your younger sister giggled, smiling at you, offering, "I've missed you greatly. Come... I wish to hear of your time away."

"Oh, sister, please, I've only just returned."

"But... Wouldn't you tell me before the King?" She whispered.

You paused, then nodded, "Got me there, sister-dearest."

"We'll take tea together," she decided, leading you around the Keep until she saw a familiar face she knew. "Talya, my sister and I wish to take tea in the gardens, please. Privately, of course, so do not announce it," she directed the handmaiden. "We'll be in the gazebo in the rose gardens, bring tea, sandwiches, and my sister's always loved those peach crumbles?"

"I know the dessert," she nodded, smiling at you. "Can I interest you, Your Grace, in anything specific?"

"No, but bring enough for us both. Come, sister."

You three parted ways, Alicent leading you to the gardens as promised. She dismissed anyone in the area, even telling her guards to wait at the front hedges to give you ideal privacy while deeper in the roses at the gazebo. While sitting, you exchanged gossip about what happened while you were away, Alicent happy to catch you up because she was happy to finally have a friend, even if it were a sister, back in her corner.

You were happy, too.

While you loved Rhaenyra, the tension between her and Ali made you feel in the middle despite both parties assuring you "you weren't". Nyra was a good friend, your best, even! But it was something about your sister that was calming and assuring. She was trustworthy to a fault, but she was still your strongest pillar.

As Talya dressed your table with tea, lemon water, sandwiches, fruits, and other foods (including the peach crumbles), you giggled at Ali's retelling of whatever failed proposals occurred this past season you were away. When alone, at last, Ali turned to you in her padded chair and asked, "Tell me in truth, how was the tour? Why did you return early?"

"In truth, sister, vying men made the Princess uncomfortable. She did not need the two months more, she knew she was unhappy with the men so far presented to her."

Alicent sighed, "So, who does she intend to marry?"

"Yes," a new voice agreed, you both jumping in shock and looking up to see Viserys approaching with your father behind him. "Who does my daughter intend to wed, Lady Hightower?"

"Your Grace," you uttered, both you and Alicent standing in respect to bow your heads.

"Please, please," he permitted you both to sit, taking the lone chair across the table as your father remained standing. "I only wish for the unfiltered truth. I know what is said, I know what is reported, I know..." He sighed, "I know what my daughter might say, but please, Lady Hightower, what is the truth of it?"

"The truth, Your Grace, is that Rhaenyra was overwhelmed. Perhaps it was too long for her that she eventually, I'm not sure, shut down? She did not care towards the end which men was presented, she was overwhelmed with the options and pace at which everything moved."

"Kings and Princes before her have done the same, many Queens and Princesses embarking on their tours to find proper suitors," Otto reminded. "Why was this different, my Lady?"

"Because she is the first," you reminded. "Never before has a woman been named heir - she holds a different responsibility. Perhaps having everything thrown at her was too much, she has to filter through lesser men that would be King Consort. Nobody stood out, she became discouraged, and honestly, Your Grace?" You spoke earnestly, "I think it just made her sad. She did not want to disappoint you by choosing a man not worthy of being her King, so, she would rather face your anger in coming home early."

Alicent frowned but nodded to herself.

Otto adverted his eyes.

Viserys looked dejected, but sighed, "I see... Thank you for your words, my Lady, truly, you've always been a trustworthy advisor to the Queen, Princess, and I."

"It's the least I can do, Your Grace, since you and Queen Aemma - you - you were so kind to me when Mother passed. And Rhaenyra - to both Alicent and I - she was a true friend. I am in debt to you, Your Grace, and whatever I can do, be it just a simple different perspective, I am happy to provide."

"Well," he considered, "in the spirit of your unfiltered perspective, who would you see Rhaenyra marry?"

You blinked in shock, "Oh, Your Grace, I-I am not qualified to say."

"You serve as my Master of Whispers, do you not?" He smirked. "Speak, please."

You sighed deeply. With a small gulp, you blinked twice, then admitted, "I do not think my opinion matters, but... It would make sense to marry her to Ser Laenor Velaryon, would it not? He's a warrior who survived the Stepstones, is of Valyrian stock and blood, rides the dragon, Seasmoke. He's kind, brave, true, unmarried, heir to Driftmark. I think when it comes to filling the position of King Consort, Ser Laenor Velaryon would make a fine candidate."

Apparently, this was all Viserys needed to hear.

You could not sleep that night. You could not explain why, but something foul was in the air and prevented you from drifting off. So, you chose to browse your private library, select a literary favorite, and stroll the deadened halls of the Red Keep; reading by flickering torch light.

Good thing you were up and out, because one of your Little Birds chirped at you from the shadows. You looked around to see nobody in the hall, but another chirp directed your attention to a darkened alcove. "Hmm, oh, Kaela," you hummed, approaching her slowly and bending at the waist. "What is it, child?"

"I came as fast as I could."

"What's wrong?"

"I've seen something - something you'll want to know," she glanced up and down the hall, "but not anyone else."

"Come," you whispered, pushing her further back into the dark and sheltering yourselves safely. Once knelt before her, you asked the child, "All right. What is it you have seen, little one?"

"Do not get angry, my Lady..."

"I promise I won't," you spoke softly, confused - you never got angry at your Little Birds... Why start now?

"I-I saw... I saw the Prince Daemon and... Princess Rhaenyra."

You nodded slowly, asking quietly, "Where?"

"In the city, in a pleasure house."

You blinked, "And what were they doing?"

"What grown-ups do."

"I see. They were coupling?"

She shrugged, "No, just kissing, but it stopped fast. He left her there."

"He left her there? In the pleasure house?"

The little girl nodded. "The Prince looked sad... When the Princess tried to kiss him again, he pulled away... Then he left."

"Where did he go? After?"

She blinked, frowning, "My brother, Grenn, said he saw him at the pubs - but he was always on the move, very drunk. I came here right away."

"Good girl," you smiled, offering her whatever Gold Dragons from the pouch you usually kept on your person under your robe for times like this. "Where will you be tomorrow evening? I will bring you and Grenn supper."

She smiled, "We can meet you at the dock!"

"The dock?"

"He likes watching the boats."

"The docks, then. By the Fisherman's Pier?"

"No, Grenn like the Harper's Pier. They're not there around supper, they're still out at sea."

"Harper's Pier for supper," you agreed. "Go on."

The little girl looked around before scampering off down a different passageway and you stood from your knelt position with a stony look of tentative contemplation on your face. With a deep breath, you did the only thing you thought you could... You went to your father.

With a rapid knock at his chamber door, it took a moment or two before he was opening it - still dressed. "What is it, daughter?" He asked gruffly. "It's late, this should wait till morning."

"The castle is about to wake - "

"I know and I've much to attend to - "

"Father," you hissed, glancing up the hall.

He sighed and let you in, "What is it?"

"I carry scandalous news," you muttered, his door's lock echoing around you. "About the Princess Rhaenyra."

He turned to you sharply, you taking a step back in surprise. "You... Know?"

"About her sneaking around in a pleasure house?"

Otto frowned, "Do you know with who?"

You could not tell him, so you answered, "No, just that she was seen in disguise."

"Who told you this?"

"One of my Birdies."

"All right," he decided, nodding to himself, "thank you, daughter, for reporting this. I will... I will figure out what to say to the King."

"Should you say anything?"

"I'll figure it out - but now we both know."

You nodded, "So you knew before I came?"

"I was awoken an hour ago to hear this news."

You nodded slowly, "Then I will leave you to it."

"Thank you," he whispered, letting you peck his cheek in parting before slipping out of his chambers. With nothing left to do or anything else to say, you went back to your chambers as to limit your exposure to the castle's tenants.

The less that could say they saw you this night, the better.

Once safe in your chambers with a locked main door, you could do nothing else but (over)think, wishing to all the Seven Gods you didn't know what you knew. Information and knowledge was vital to maintain power, this is true, but it also made you dangerous - also a target. The more you knew, the bigger the target.

It was only a few hours after dawn when the secret passage doors to your chamber opened. You were braiding your hair, ignoring the man you knew to have the only balls to use that door - especially now.

"I've always wondered, if we had children, would they have white hair or waves of fire, like you? Perhaps something between?"

"Fuck off, Daemon."

"So, you've heard," he sighed deeply. "Won't you even look at me?"

"I can't stand the very thought of you right now, nor the actual sound, I'll lose my stomach if I have to look at you."

"Let me tell you the truth," he begged, "before I have to leave the Keep, let me tell you the truth. Let Viserys and everyone have their ideas and opinions, their lies and slander, but let me tell you!"

"Excuse me?" You asked, whirling around in your seat to glare at him fully. "Viserys banished you, again?"

"He did... Back to the Vale."

You scoffed, "Good... Your Lady wife awaits you."

"Viserys thinks I've sullied Rhaenyra's virtue. I do not need you thinking the same, so, please, let me tell you what happened - no matter how uncomfortable, please, let me tell you the truth."

"What difference does it make?"

"I can't have you thinking something more occurred. Was I tempted? Yes, but I refrained. Did I touch her? A little - but not how you think."

You sighed, shaking your head, "I don't care, you're returning to your wife in the Vale, and I will be rid of you. No matter for how long this time, you will be gone - "

"For a time, yes, but I intend to return for you."

"No, I think I'll let Father make me a match. I despised the North, it was too cold, so the handsome Cregan Stark is out. I don't mind Dorne, perhaps a Martel to marry? Or even a Tully of Riverrun?"

"Do not speak such atrocities to me."

"You're one to talk! Your niece, Daemon? The girl I consider my closest friend? You couldn't just find that whore you like and be satisfied with her? Couldn't wait a single day, could you? Huh? How fucking pathetic!"

"Perhaps you are not as close with Rhaenyra as you thought," he tisked, making you feel disarmed. He spent the next hour and a half explaining to you what happened the previous night, and despite your disgust, you just listened.

Knowledge was power.

"I will return," he sighed at the end, "and in that time, you can make your own decisions if you want me or not. But I will return and I will have you, if you will have me, and this foolishness will be behind us."

"I'll give you a single year. I will not wait for you longer than that," you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "I can't stand that you've done this, but I will wait one single year for you to find a way out of your marriage and back to me. Any longer than that, and I will simply move on. I do not want to live my whole life in the Red Keep, and the truth of it is, I cannot live in the Princess' shadow any longer. One year, Daemon."

"One year," he nodded, stepping closer. "My love, please - "

"Do not assume to touch me. Not after you've touched her," you snapped, stepping away. "Get out, I need to be alone, you have been banished - you need to go, you cannot be seen here." Your eyes rolled, muttering, "Probably have to go collect your whore for this banishment, too."

"Not this time," he smirked, "this time, I leave with my promise that I will return for you, my sweet Lady Hightower."

"Fuck off, you perverted Prince Daemon," you sassed, watching him slip out the door; shutting you in an echoing silence. Your heart ripped itself apart, making you wonder what the fuck you had done to deserve getting caught in such a scandalous affair. But you knew, in your heart, you'd do anything for Daemon - the thought sickening your stomach as you pondered how far this would all go.

part two: And Let Me Love You Anyway

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

[sunderwight]

Bingqiu AU where SY and LBH grow up as childhood friends (idk maybe they're both at QJP but Shen Jiu is less of an asshole, or maybe SY transmigrates into Random Village Bully Child No.3 when Binghe's mom is still alive -- or both) and there's none of the tension of the idea of "one day Luo Binghe is going to rip my limbs off" for Shen Yuan.

So he and LBH can just be bros! Fantastic! Shen Yuan has never had a little brother before but he's had a little sister, he knows how to do this. Just spoil the cute kid rotten!

It's only fair compensation for how many terrible things LBH is gonna have to endure on the road to ruling the world, after all. SY also feels more freedom to change minor aspects of the plot around, too, like maybe he'll stop Liu Qingge from dying, definitely he can help LBH get a better start to his cultivation journey, and maybe the abyss and xin mo thing doesn't really need to happen...?

The list of things SY considers meddling with ends up including wives.

Like really, come on now, Luo Binghe may be a stallion protagonist but there's no need for that many women. Especially when at least half of them are just increasingly cheap copies of the other half, and that's being generous about it. Some of PIDW Binghe's wives were, frankly, horrible people. And if he's being honest about it, it wasn't fair of Binghe himself to take on that many either. Even if anyone would naturally give their left arm to be the protagonist's wife, after a certain point Binghe just can't spend that much time actually with them! And then he can't form the kinds of deep and meaningful bonds which might actually help heal his trauma!

SY's not looking to interfere too much, of course. Ning Yingying is not his favorite wife, but she's fine. She causes trouble but it isn't on purpose, and she's genuinely sweet and willing to befriend Binghe before he's anything special (although even now, it's obvious Binghe is special). Ning Yingying can stay.

And of course, so can Best Wife Liu Mingyan.

But Sha Hualing? Well, she offers some political advantages, and as the demon wives go she's not the worst. She's kind of iconic and was very popular, but Shen Yuan thinks the harem could do without her scheming and malicious attitude towards the other wives. The cost of harmony was too high for the political bonuses offered, especially when Binghe might as well just take her ancestral lands by force and be done with it. He's going to advise against that match.

And the Qin sisters. Sure there's the legendary threesome, but Wanrong's dead weight and it never struck SY quite right how Qin Wanyue pressured Luo Binghe into sex. The threesome wasn't even good anyway.

Better Qin Wanyue than the Little Palace Mistress on that front, though. But aish, that's complicated, the Palace Mistress is even more politically vital to securing HHP than Sha Hualing is for her father's kingdom, and almost as bad for the peace and harmony of the harem. Ultimately SY will leave it up to Binghe, but if Binghe asks, he's going to advise against the Huan Hua wives too.

With thoughts like this in mind, SY starts talking to Binghe about how to establish a household, what to look for in a spouse (or twenty), and other topics of that nature. What sort of household Luo Binghe ought to strive to have, and what sorts of standards he should himself to. Also while of course assuring him that Shen Yuan isn't interested in women. Lest he worry that Shen Yuan might be trying to steal any of the wives from him, at any point. He's not competition!

SY: I am helping to pave the way for Binghe to have better marital relationships! I am the best big brother slash best buddy ever! don't worry, no matter what happens to Binghe, this gege will be your no.1 cheerleader forever!

LBH: is he saying I should get a palace if I want to marry him? well... that sounds reasonable. ok, I will do it! (•̀ ω •́)✧

[kasagia]

Dancing with the devil II

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem! royal!reader Summary: The Na-Baron's birthday celebration on Giedi Prime at the beginning of the season makes you realise just how much work you'll have to put into becoming Empress—and even more into avoiding Harkonnen, who's showing you way too much attention. This is something that your almost-fiance definitely shouldn't like, and something that he doesn't notice. After all, there's little you can see in the darkness of Giedi Prime. Warning: kind of royal au!; 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; smut; Inspired by: Bridgerton and "Would've, could've, should've" - Taylor Swift Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART I ~•♤♤♤•~ PART III ~•♤♤♤•~

"Smile. And powder yourself. You look pale, as if we were going there for a beheading and not a ball." Your mother says, adjusting the position of the grid of diamonds decorating your head. You flinch as you feel the cool metal of the gems brush against your cheek.

The damn thing was heavy, but nice. You remember perfectly how Lord Luwael's eyes lit up when he saw you wearing a similar ornament in your hair.

"In a way it is. First we will see the fight in the arena." You are sceptical of what comes next when your ship lands on Giedi Prime. You didn't like this place. It was black and white, barren, devoid of life and any moral principles. It was therefore an ideal place for gossip to arise - especially the spicy ones.

Besides, your... last encounter with Na-Baron was still fresh in your memory. Especially in dreams. On those terrible nights, you dreamed about how, in the darkness of your gardens and under the moonlight, you allowed him to do... more wicked things. Things that even husbands and wives shouldn't do behind their chambers' doors. And as much as you felt aroused after every dream like this, you were also disgusted with yourself and hated the Na-Baron even more for your little fantasies.

This helped immensely when it came to increasing motivation to win the emperor's cousin's heart, but no amount of flirting with him helped you forget the touch of a certain Harkonnen. You found it very interesting. And you hoped that after fighting in the arena, your body would adopt the same attitude towards him as your brain. He was dangerous and should have been avoided by you at all costs, and yet, in every fantasy about him, you enjoyed his burning touch more than the previous ones and wanted much more to happen between you two.

"Better for you. Half of these charpies in silks and sparkles will faint and never set foot in a ballroom. Take this opportunity and stick to the arm of the emperor's cousin." She advises you, licking her finger and twisting a lock of your hair so it rests unruly against your temple and falls onto your cheek.

"Lord Luwael wrote to me all summer. Besides, you saw for yourself that he visited our planet several times."

"It does not mean anything. He could only be bored, so he flew around the planets looking for entertainment. You have to charm him, Y/N. Drive him crazy with a... desire for you so great that he will do anything to have you—only then will he propose to you. It's still a miracle that he looked at you, since we come from a worse dynasty than him." He reminds you dryly, and you press your lips into a thin line. He doesn't wait for your answer. She leaves your room, clearly expecting you to follow her, when the ship announces that you are about to land.

You take a shaky breath, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your home-coloured dress hugged your curves perfectly, showing off the best of your figure, and your makeup highlighted your cheekbones and gave your eyes depth. All of this made you an irresistible sight. Lord Luwael would have to be blind not to appreciate your beauty. You will leave Giedi Prime with a ring on your finger or on the ship of the emperor's cousin. You did not see any other possibility, nor did you want to allow something other to happen.

You put on your soft, genuine smile and leave the room to join your mother on the exit ramp. Moments later, the ramp descends, revealing the black sun of Giedi Prime. You frown and squint as you adjust to the atmosphere on the planet. Your mother and you come down to earth. As soon as you can see beyond the patch of land in front of you, you shiver as you notice the Na-Baron waiting near your ship. You feel your anxiety and nervousness rising inside you, but you try your hardest to maintain your polite smile.

"Viscountess Y/L/N. Lady Y/L/N." He greets you, his gravelly voice sending shivers down your spine. You try to control your breathing and heartbeat, as panic is rising within you.

He looks... even more intimidating than on your home planet. That night, his mask had covered practically his entire face, but now you could see him in all his glory. And damn you, because those tempting lips he had weren't the only advantage of his appearance.

His face looked as if thousands of painters had worked on it, as if it had been lifted from ancient paintings depicting beautiful demons tempting people to damnation. And, oh, what a handsome devil he was. If you believed in an afterlife, you would wonder if he escaped from hell to lead people into temptation.

You couldn't help but wonder if he would recognise you. Does he know that it was you who went with him to the garden a few months ago? You try to read some reaction from his face, but he maintains an emotionless, composed demeanour as he looks at you and your mother.

"Na-Baron. It's a great honour to be here to celebrate your birthday. May fate always be in your favour." She greets him kindly. You shiver in relief as he thankfully doesn't pay much attention to you as his gaze comes back to your mother. 

"I hope it will. The maids will show you the way to the guest wing and your chambers. All celebrations will take place tomorrow. I hope that you will soon get used to the atmospheric conditions in Giedi Prime. Until then." He nods at the maids standing behind him. Bald women come up to you and hand you tiny baskets. "Our guests find it quite useful."

You look at the things in the basket; your attention is caught by sunglasses with black lenses and a strange coat. Your mother reaches for her coat and, with practiced skill, slips it gracefully over herself, along with her glasses, as you stare unsteadily at the strange fabric.

"Lady Y/L/N. May I?" Na-Baron asks. However, he doesn't wait for your answer.

He comes closer to you, takes your cloak from the basket, and hands it to your servants. He wraps the coat around you, adjusting it to your figure and making sure to cover all of your exposed skin.

"We Harkonnens have a special pigment in our skin to prevent the carcinogenic effects of sunlight and burns from long-term exposure. You must remember to wear this coat outside to avoid any diseases, Lady Y/L/N." He says, standing behind you and tying the fabric of your coat together. He uncovers your face for a moment and puts on your sunglasses. "Nor your beautiful eyes to be damaged." He whispers, so only you can hear him.

You shiver, staring at him blankly, glad that your sunglasses allow you the convenience of hiding your eyes from him and whatever you're focused on.

Was it possible that he recognised you? Was he giving you a hint that he knew you were his white swan? NO. Impossible. He probably flirted with every single woman who came to Giedi Prime. After all, he was going to find a wife this season. He had to show his softer side and hide Giedi Prime's brutality from the naive noblewomen so that some stupid and naive one would marry him.

"We thank you very much for your kindness, Na-Baron." Your mother speaks for you, obviously angry that you haven't spoken up for yourself. You just nod, shifting your gaze to the castle behind him, trying to escape his watchful, searching gaze for a moment.

"Your welcome." He responds with a nod to your mother.

He takes your hand in his, making you tense slightly as he leans down and presses a short kiss on it. A shiver runs through you as you feel the shape of his lips through your gloves, and your mind automatically recalls the memory of that night. You smile at him politely and quickly join your mother's side, leaving Na-Baron on the ramp as another ship arrives.

"Do not act like that. Don't show that you're afraid of them. And be careful. It's very common for people here to disappear after showing disrespect to the Na-Baron. You know how, right?" She whispers furiously to you as you are led inside the palace by the maids.

"I... I know. I'm sorry." You say this thoughtfully, turning discreetly over your shoulder to watch him greet the other noble families. This time, he doesn't kiss anyone's hand or help anyone put on their protective cloak. You shake your head. He probably saw that you weren't engaged to anyone yet, and that's why you got... special treatment from him.

"Just don't act like a scared mouse. I raised you better."

Right. Your mother raised you better. That's why you shouldn't have disappeared into the garden with this mysterious stranger from the very beginning. It would save you a headache now that wasn't caused by the oppressive atmosphere on Giedi Prime. You just wanted this season to end as soon as possible. Preferably your marriage.

You walk hand in hand with Lady Y/F/N towards the arena, gossiping about what happened since last night. The Giedi Prime sun is somehow more bearable today; you don't know if it's because of the items given by Na-Baron or because the weather was exceptionally not as cruel as the day you arrived, but you feel much better. (Or maybe it was because you didn't see Na-Baron Harkonnen today.)

"I tell you, Princess Irulan was furious. I heard she destroyed her room, and the maids worked all night to get it back in order. Do you think it's possible? That the Emperor wants to marry her off to Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha?"

"Possible. It wouldn't be a stupid move. After all, Irulan cannot become emperor. She may be the firstborn, but she has no right to rule. It is logical that her father wants to marry her off to the second-best possible party, of course, when it comes to financial and political issues."

"Second best? Who's first?" You just smile at her question, watching the other noblewomen and their families walk towards the arena.

"Of course, as a woman in love, I must say that Lord Luwael."

"Has someone talked about me?"

A faint blush appears on your cheeks. You and Y/F/N turn around to see a smug Lord. You give him an equally mischievous smirk and curtsy, grabbing the arm he offered you.

"I do not think so. You must have misheard, Lord Luawel. Maybe it's the sun of Giedi Prime that bothers you so much that you lose your hearing?" You tease him as the three of you enter the arena.

"Lady Y/N, you don't have to worry about me so much, as sweet as that is. Fortunately, I don't need as much protection as you ladies do. However, I must admit that Giedi Prime is a terrible place. It does not allow you to see the natural beauty of certain things, taking away their colours."

"Maybe there's something… positive to be found here?" Y/F/N asks hesitantly as you pass a group of Harkonnens heading to the arena. The men say something in their harsh, unpleasant language that makes you shiver. You are only further insisting that there is nothing good to find on Giedi Prime.

"Positive? With all due respect, Lady Y/F/N, the Harkonnens have destroyed everything beautiful that could be left on this planet. Including their appearance and behavior." You giggle, careful not to let anyone else but the three of you hear you. But you wonder why your friend's attitude is so... sullen. She plays with her glove nervously as her eyes fall on the baron's older nephew, Rabban. "I don't know who is worse, him or his younger psychopathic brother."

"I think both of them are equal in their madness." You comment, agreeing with Lord Luwael.

Your eyes involuntarily land on Na-Baron, who exchanges a few words with one of his servants. You shiver when his eyes find yours—as if he has a special detector that makes him aware every time someone's eyes linger on him for too long.

He nods to you, looking at you carefully and examining your dress. His lips twitch into a smile when he sees you're wearing the coat he helped you adjust to your figure yesterday. You quickly turn your head towards Lord Luwael and give him one of your practiced, beautiful smiles.

"I… I'm sorry. I should join my family. Lord Luwael. Lady Y/N."

You frown, watching her walk away like a beaten puppy. You decide to question her about her strange behavior later in the evening. Now you had to focus on your lord.

"And you, lady? Are your wonderful mother and father with you?" Lord Luwael asks, placing his hand on top of yours after managing to penetrate the layers of material protecting your skin. He acts as if he wants to pull you much closer to him.

You feel the skin of your hand burn where it touches his, but unfortunately, not from... the excitement of this tiny, forbidden contact. Someone's eyes are watching you carefully, but you are too afraid to look towards Na-Baron to confirm that it is his irises that are staring hatefully at your joined hands.

"My mother had a headache, so she staid in her chamber. Unfortunately, my father couldn't show up at all. I hope you won't abandon me and leave me so lonely in this barbaric place, my lord?"

"I wouldn't dare do that. I am a gentleman. After all, someone has to catch you if you faint, my lady."

You smile sweetly at him, ignoring the sudden urge to kick him in the crotch for his words. You must maintain the innocent demeanour of a cute, awkward, and sweet noblewoman. Even though you hated it...

"Oh, you don't know how much I appreciate it, my lord." You say, wondering if you should actually pretend to faint and let him catch you. It would be very romantic if he carried you out of the arena in his arms and took you to the medic. Plus, you wouldn't have to watch... Na-Baron's entire performance.

You take your seat in the guest box. The arena shakes with the screams and applause of people who are truly eager for their Na-Baron to shed blood. Lord Luwael hands you the binoculars and gently removes your cloak as you both notice that you are protected from the sun's rays by a special black glass window.

You shiver as the Harkonnen's war drums sound and the announcer says something in their language, announcing Feyd-Rautha's fight.

A blush involuntarily blooms on your cheeks when you see that Na-Baron has decided to fight without a shirt or any armour protecting his chest. You hungrily stare at his muscular torso as he shows off his warrior body, which is decorated with paint—probably their war symbols, bringing good luck in battle.

"A real poseur and playboy. He only does it to attract attention."

"Probably. But you can't say, that it doesn't work, my lord." You say and nod towards the other ladies, who are also staring at the muscular figure of a warrior that Na-Baron proudly displays.

"Does it work for you?"

"I'm just a woman. But I prefer… slightly more hairy men." Lord Luwael chuckles at your comment, giving you a mischievous look. His attention briefly returns to Na-Baron, who lets out a belligerent cry after the murder of the first prisoner. You see him shiver slightly and his eyebrows furrow before his attention returns to you.

"So would I also gain your attention if I appeared… in a similar condition?"

"My lord, you would then have my complete undivided attention." You respond equally flirtatiously. The man sitting next to you hums in appreciation. His hand reaches up to cup your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek as he stares at you, entranced.

"You, lady, have my undivided attention at all times and occupy my every thought." Unfortunately, you can't respond to his comment with something as sweet as Na-Baron's angry, painful scream that echoes from the arena.

Your attention returns to the fight. Na-Baron fights the last opponent, who, surprisingly, is not under the influence of drugs. You watch the fight with curiosity, even more so when you see blood pouring from Na-Baron's side.

"He had to distract himself. So far, he hasn't had any problems fighting him." You hear people commenting around you, but your eyes are focused only on Na-Baron.

You shiver as his gaze wanders towards your box, and it feels like he's looking right at you, making sure you're watching him. You put this idea out of your head. He probably didn't even know your name. He couldn't recognise you; he would definitely show it by now if he did.

You shiver as he lets out a menacing scream and charges at his opponent. His movements are quick, well-aimed and aimed as he delivers slashes, perfectly avoiding the blade of the prisoner he is fighting. You hold your breath as he knocks the blade out of your opponent's hands and stabs him in the stomach several times.

Na-Baron whispers something to the warrior and slowly lowers him to the ground as he draws his last breath. You can't take your eyes off his bloody form. His piercing gaze is still directed towards your lodge as he raises his blade. The crowd in the arena screams, people applaud, and you feel Lord Luwael next to you slowly begin to fall to the ground.

"Lord Luwael!" You scream, attracting the attention of the people around you. Several men help you, and they lift the unconscious lord. They carry him outside, and you want to follow them, but unfortunately for you, the second round of Na-Baron's fight begins, so you can't just leave. So you go back to your seat, thinking hard.

Lord Luwael apparently had another negative trait besides being a hopeless romantic—a firm believer in preserving a strictly traditional, patriarchal system. He fainted at the sight of blood and abhorred violence.

You sigh, wondering how the hell you're supposed to cope with a husband and an emperor who's afraid to draw someone's blood and pick up a sword.

Your gaze falls back on the fighting Na-Baron. If only he was less... Harkonnen... You shake your head at the idea that crossed your mind. No. You are going to become the empress. Nothing could change that plan, and certainly not one night of oblivion and pleasure with a brutal, psychopathic future Baron of a dead planet.

But that doesn't stop you from admiring the way Na-Baron's muscular chest ripples with each rapid breath or the way his muscles twitch with his movements. And unfortunately, you can't stop your thoughts from wandering and imagining him moving into a much more... intimate situation.

"Did she watch the fight?" Feyd asks his servant as the medic stitches up his wound.

He finished the fight a few minutes ago. People were probably starting to gather in the ballroom, but he had to clean up and put things in order before he appeared in public. Before he shows himself to you.

"At first, she was a little distracted by this... lord. But he fainted halfway through Na-Baron's fight, so afterwards her attention was entirely on you, my lord."

"He fainted? Weak spawn. Did she enjoy my performance?" Feyd asks, slightly irritated by the way the medic's fingers are shaking with fear as he tends to the wound.

"She was definitely impressed. I think Na-Baron's decision not to wear the breastplate helped, as did the fact that the guards made sure not to let Lord Luwael into the arena again."

"Very good, you did a great job. Keep it up. I'm going to need you to distract that pet of hers for a while. You can do it, right?"

"Of course, my lord Na-Baron."

"Women like flowers. Those outside Giedi Prime." The medic comments as he finishes stitching up his wound. Feyd looks at him for a moment, then nods at his servant.

"This is a wonderful idea. Order a vase of the rarest flower species to be placed in her chambers. I'll give you a note tonight, after the ball."

Before Feyd finishes his sentence, he already holds the medic's arm and plunges a dagger into his stomach. The man groans in shock as he stares in sheer terror at the Na-Baron.

"Because of you, I'll be late for my own ball." He growls and puts on a black shirt, ignoring the blood on his fingers as he walks out of the infirmary.

He walks through the halls of the palace, hurrying to his chambers to change. His thoughts involuntarily go to you, remembering your intoxicating scent and the softness of your skin under his lips. Damn him if he lets some lesser man have the taste of what is his.

You belonged to him from the moment he killed for you the emperor's dog that tried to bite you. If necessary, he will kill another one to make sure that no man will dare to adore you again.

But Feyd couldn't do it; as much as he dreamed of it, he preferred to gain your... feelings rather than force you to marry him. And maybe he enjoyed the thrill of chasing you, but only as long as his claims for you weren't at risk. And this little... lord was hanging around way too close to you.

He didn't know at all what you saw in this weak man. He wasn't handsome, he couldn't fight, and he couldn't defend you. Certainly not before Feyd. You needed someone strong—someone who wasn't afraid of your true nature or unleashing it. You weren't yourself hanging out with that lord. He watched the two of you closely, and countless times he saw you tighten your hand around a glass, a fan, or in a fist when that lord made a remark that irritated you, but instead of snapping back like you did with Feyd, you smiled falsely sweetly and nodded obediently.

His beautiful, brave swan, instead of hissing at the fools around her, only tried harder to attract them. And this annoyed Feyd immensely. You could be so much more than just a pretty face. You had a character that Feyd admired in you, but instead of showing it with pride, you hid it deep inside, afraid of society's opinion.

You would make a wonderful Baroness. With you by his side, he wouldn't worry about anyone seeing him as weak man. And he himself found worthy company in you during that wonderful night on your planet. If only you hadn't run away from him, hadn't believed the rumours so much, and weren't afraid of him, but rather of what he might do to you, you and Feyd would make a wonderful match.

As he approaches his chamber, he hears the ladies giggling. He decides to hide in a side corridor and wait until the gossiping women leave. But he perks up his ear excitedly when he hears what they're talking about—and that you're among them too.

"Na-Baron put on quite a show. Have you seen these muscles?" Feyd can barely keep from giggling. But he can't help but wonder how you assessed his... muscles.

He did it especially for you—to tease you a little with what you could have had that night if you hadn't run away from him like a scared little mouse. How many nights did he spend dreaming about catching you before that frail lord got you...

"Oh please. He's a cruel brute. Psychopath. Did you see how he treated that poor man? Moreover, most of his opponents were under the influence of drugs."

His hairless eyebrows furrow. He feels his rage rising; he wants to come out of his hiding place and show this royal bitch a real fight, but he knows that his uncle will kill him for laying a hand on the emperor's daughter.

"I'm not surprised at him. After all, he's the next Baron, they won't risk his life for some lame arena show."

"What do you think about it, Lady Y/N?"

Feyd licks his lips, eagerly waiting for your opinion on his fight. His heart beats fast as he wonders what you will say. Will you praise his fighting skills? Appearance? Ruthlessness and brutality? Or maybe you loathe it as much as Princess Irulan does?

He waited nervously, his heart beating fast as he waited impatiently for even one word from you.

"I… think we had a rather… interesting fight anyway. Regardless of the circumstances."

His excitement fades when you limit yourself to such a simple, diplomatic, and natural answer. He doesn't want to hear something like that from you. He wants your opinion; he wants to hear the burning heat in your voice as you express your true thoughts and emotions with great conviction, even if they go against what he wants. He wants your passion—the same passion he has experienced the few times he has had the opportunity to be around you.

"But it's not honorable! How dare they treat prisoners like this?" Irulan growls furiously at you.

"And in your country, how are they treated, my princess? They either end up in a noose or have their heads cut off. Here, maybe being under the influence of drugs isn't the best thing, but at least they have a dignified death for warriors—those who don't fight Na-Baron are fighting in the arena for their freedom and are not under the influence of any substance. I don't think this is the case in many countries. Besides, it boosts morale and entertains the people. Two birds with one stone."

Feyd feels a smirk involuntarily form on his lips. He knew that his little, wise swan would think just like he did. However, I regret that you do not praise his skills as a warrior but only focus on the usefulness of such fights. Next time, he will try harder for you. Maybe he will even give you the heart of the strongest warrior?

"Of course you'll flatter him, Lady Y/N. After all, he clearly has his eyes on you. I saw the way he looked at you the day you arrived—it was clearly love at first sight."

"Oh yes! And I saw him looking across the arena towards your box! He got so distracted by looking at you that one of the prisoners stabbed him in the side! It's so sweet, just like a real romance book."

Feyd freezes for a moment. Was it that obvious? He couldn't, right? Maybe he was accidentally looking for you in the crowd of other people, but... he couldn't be that easy to read, right?

"I would never dream of courting Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, not even in your wildest fantasies my ladies. So maybe let's focus on the real, more likely matches that could happen this season."

At your words, Feyd clenches his hands into fists. How dare you so openly reject his possible advances? It was the best match in the empire. In fact, he could be a future emperor, and he'd damn well do it for you if that was all it took to get his hand in marriage. Seething with rage, his hand involuntarily went to the blade attached to his side. He had to find someone; he had to take it out on someone; but then again, he needed to hear more. Why does the thought that he adores you bother you so much? Did he do something to you? Has he offended you in any way? Was it your reluctance and disgust at the idea of having him as a suitor just because he was a Harkonnen?

"You mean your questionable engagement to my cousin?" Princess Irulan mocks you, fueling Feyd's anger both with the way she speaks to you and with your engagement to that weak piece of flesh wasting air in your presence.

"Why questionable, my princess? I think this would be the perfect match. Lady Whistledown herself devoted several of her paragraphs to it."

Feyd rolls his eyes at you. Have you also read the nonsense of some old lady who was bored enough to comment on events in the world of noble families? And here he thought that his swan was too smart for that...

"My cousin may be stupid and be fooled by a few pretty words and eyes, but he doesn't make rash decisions. He knows what kind of marriage will be best for him. He won't marry someone from a lesser family just because some anonymous writer is having fun spreading rumors."

"Do you have someone special for Lord Luwael in your mind, maybe?"

"I think we all know very well who I mean."

Feyd smiles, and for the first time, he is not hating the princess's existence. If she actually took this weak lord from you, the fight for your hand and heart would be much more enjoyable for him; after all, he wouldn't have to worry that you would marry some other man while he was trying his best to get closer to you. It would definitely make courting you easier if Irulan tried to charm your weak little lord...

"Hmm… possible. But tell us, princess, how's your Bene Gesserit training going? Has the Reverend Mother assigned you any task yet?"

"I believe this is none of your business."

Ah, so you knew. You knew that the Bene Gesserit were planning to marry him to Irulan—something he certainly wouldn't allow. But if he lets you believe it, would you fight for him? Would you try to convince him to stop chasing Irulan? You could. After all, you would see it as a threat to your position as empress. Feyd is curious what lengths you would go to if such a situation occurred—how far would you go in trying to seduce him and leave Irulan?

Feyd is no longer eavesdropping on the rest of your conversation. You pass him, and he quickly sneaks back to his chambers, changing his clothes. His mind races as he wonders what he should do now. And he decides to give you one last chance before he puts his plan into action.

The balls at Gieid Prime are… different from those you usually witness. The ballroom is lit by a thousand candles, the room is kept in semi-darkness, and you are more than convinced that some orgy is taking place somewhere in the corners and recesses of this huge hall.

You are just finishing your dance with Lord Luwael when Feyd-Rautha enters the hall. Na-Baron is greeted with loud applause and cheers. He smiles at the crowd of people, showing a row of night-black teeth. You shiver at the sight. You just don't know if it's out of fear or desire. You realise that every time you think he can't make himself a more terrible monster, he comes in like the bane of your existence and proves you dead wrong.

Oh how you wanted to finally leave Giedi Prime.

"Unfortunately, I think we should wish him a happy birthday. Everyone does it."

You nod at his words, seeing the rest of the guests actually gather around Feyd-Rautha. You place your hand in the crook of his arm and let him guide you towards Na-Baron. The alcohol you managed to drink without your companion's attention and the man's mere presence will give you a bit of courage. Although you know, if a real fight broke out between these two men, the candidate for your husband would probably faint from fear when he saw the first blood and lose it. What a pity he had such an annoying condition...

"Na-Baron. Happy birthday." Your companion says as you reach Feyda-Rautha. His blue, ocean-glacial eyes stare at the two of you, ignoring you for a moment to send an appraising glance towards the man whose arm you're holding. You see a strange tension building in the room between these two...

"Thank you very much, lord…"

"Luwael." He finishes for him, angry that he is not properly recognised and acknowledged by the Na-Baron.

"Ah yes. It slipped out of my mind. Wouldn't you be offended if I took the liberty of asking your lovely partner to dance? It's my birthday, after all." Na-Baron's attention is completely on you, and you wish he and Lord Luwael had spent more time on this little alpha male fight. You open your mouth, ready with an excuse to deny him the dance, but the man next to you speaks first.

"Of course. Enjoy yourself." Na-Baron gives him a smug smirk that only widens when Lord Luwael flinches at Feyd's black teeth.

You suppress a grimace and give your hand to the Harkonnen. He takes your hand with incredible gentleness and leads you to the centre of the room, right onto the dance floor. Before the dancing starts, he has the courage to take off your gloves. You give him a confused look, your heart beating faster, as he leans in to press a kiss on your hand. You shiver as the skin of your hand registers the now familiar shape of his plump lips.

He places his hand on your waist and connects your hand with his, leading you to the rhythm of a rather calm song.

"Such fire… and yet your anger does not reach Lord Luwael. What did he do to deserve this special treatment, my lady? Maybe you're worried about him after he fainted in the arena like some weak, little boy?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about." You say, turning your gaze away from him, wanting to spend the rest of the dance in silence. You keep your eyes peeled for Lord Luwael, but unfortunately, you can't find him anywhere. As if he had evaporated.

"Is it so, little swan?" A cold chill runs through you as you use the nickname for you that he used that night. You feel your world freeze for a moment. He continues to lead you in the rhythm of the dance, allowing himself to pull you a little closer to inhale the scent of your perfume, but you don't notice, terrified of what he told you he knew.

"I... no." You blurt out, trying to control your emotions, and put on the mask of indifference on your face again.

"Well... I guess you know. Your heart beats so fast, almost as fast as that night when I tasted your wonderful nectar straight from the source. You know there's nothing as sweet as your juices?"

"How dare you speak to me like that?!" You growl furiously, unconsciously digging your nails into his palm.

"So she can still hiss! And she even has claws. I remember how sweetly you scratched my neck with them before you ran away like a scared little bird."

"Shut up." You growl, feeling like you're starting to lose control of this whole conversation. And not just conversation. You noticed that you had somehow found yourself outside the ballroom. The music from there reaches you in the form of a gentle hum as it presses you against the wall of one of the empty corridors. You swallow, realising what a sh*t situation you are in.

"Or what? Watch your tone, little swan. It's my birthday. You should be nicer to me. I didn't actually hear you wish me a happy birthday; your little puppet did it for you."

"Unlike some, he is a real gentleman, not a puppet or monster."

"Ah, but we know very well that you don't want a gentleman. A gentleman wouldn't do to you the things I did to you, and we both know how deliciously you moaned under my touch and how you shuddered as my tongue tasted you. Do you think your weak lord can do to you the things I showed you in the darkness of your house planet? That he can satisfy your desire? That he can free you from your shackles of social conventions as I can free you? You need someone bigger than the lesser man. I've already told you that. You won't settle for a man like that."

"You do not know anything about me. One night—not even the whole night—spent under my skirts won't suddenly make you know my true desires. You have changed, Feyd-Rautha. You're not the same boy from the Lankiveil I used to know." He hums thoughtfully at your worlds, watching you carefully and curiously.

"Hmm… maybe you're right, little swan. I think I need to do more to convince you that I am right."

You sigh as his lips press against yours in a frenzied, passionate kiss. You punch his chest, trying to push him away, but he presses hard against you, pinning you against the wall. You feel the toned muscles of his body as he grinds against you, demanding full access to your mouth.

You bite his lip until it bleeds, but that only turns him on more. His strong, large hand cups your breast, squeezing it tightly. You let out a surprised moan, and his tongue somehow finds a way to slip into your open mouth.

The material of your dress tears under his strength; his hands pull your breasts out of your dress and caress them as if his life depended on it. His fingers graze over your sensitive nipples, and you can only moan into his mouth as he sends a warmth straight to your core that reminds you desperately of how his tongue was working so well to release you that you had denied yourself.

You come to the shameful conclusion that maybe you could have let him bring you to orgasm before you ran away from him.

His lips finally leave yours, but you don't enjoy this freedom for long. They move to your neck, licking and nibbling madly, as if someone were about to tear him away from you. And the worst thing about it all is that you don't really know if that's what you want.

You scream as his black teeth dig into your skin, leaving a mark in the crook of your neck. You hear the click of enamel against metal as he accidentally catches your necklace, but he doesn't move away; he just sinks his teeth into it, as if trying to split a diamond in half.

He pulls away from you; you see the blood on his plump lips—your blood—and it only makes you more aroused. His hand slips under your skirts and reaches to your core, caressing you teasingly. You gasp, closing your eyes and throwing your head back.

"Such a good little whore when she gets fingers and a few hickeys on her neck. Does your lord know what a shrew you are until someone kisses the venom from your lips? Does he know what fire burns inside you? Does he know what a wonderful feast you have between your legs for a thirsty man? Does he know you as well as I do? Has he seen how beautiful you look in the whirlwind of passion?"

His every question is punctuated by the rhythm of the thrusting of his fingers. You moan softly, holding back tears of pleasure, as he slowly brings you to the edge. You dig your nails into his shoulders, holding onto him with all your strength as he plays with your clit and sucks hickeys on your breasts.

"So sweet… so soft… so wet. And it's for me. Just for me. For Harkonnen. Say it. Tell me who fucks that little pussy so well with his fingers. Tell me who's driving you crazy. Tell me whose attention you really want, you wanton little bitch, and maybe I'll let you cum, despite the way you treated me… and on my own birthday…"

"I... you... you..." You gasp in rhythm with the thrusts of his fingers.

"Nah. Not like that. My name, beautiful little swan. Scream my name. Exactly the way you should have done that night in the garden." He whispers into your ear, biting the lobe. You moan as his fingers go deeper inside you, and his other hand caresses your breast, playing with your nipple.

"I... ah... Feyd.... Feyd, please..." You cry for him as your hips grind against his hand, seeking the sweet release that only he can give you.

"Yes…just like that…cum for me. Give me my birthday present and shout my name." You can only nod dumbly as you feel him take you over the edge. You bite down hard on his neck, refraining from making any noise as you tighten around his fingers, finally coming.

You gasp, feeling the metallic taste of his black blood on your tongue.

You move away from him as if burned. Your heart beats insanely fast as you stare at him, trying to process what happened. He pulls his finger out of you with a squelch, and you blush furiously. He puts his fingers in his mouth, sucking them. He moans at the taste of you, never breaking eye contact with you.

"Perfect birthday gift. Although I believe I can get more." Just as he moves to kneel between your legs, you hear the voices of the guards patrolling the halls. You push him away from you in panic and run forward, trying to improve your appearance a little.

This time, he's not after you. He didn't make any attempt to chase you. He allows you to traverse the halls of Giedi Prime without the feeling of his breath on your back, but you are very aware that you have miserably lost today's battle against him. He did exactly what he wanted with you and would have gone much further (and unfortunately, you would have let him) if you hadn't sobered up with the possibility of getting caught.

You told yourself that this was what you needed to get over him. After all, forbidden fruit always tasted the best, and once you experienced the Na-Baron's... undoubted skills, you could move on and marry a man who was the absolute opposite of him, a man with whom you didn't have to worry so much about the future, as with Feyd-Rautha.

Yes, this was what you needed—one last affair before the wedding—to make sure you're doing it right. Because what would await you as Na-Baron's wife, or, God forbid, concubine? Nothing good. The Harkonnens were the harbinger of misfortune, suffering, pain, aggression, and, apparently, good sex.

Whatever you and Na-Baron were doing, it had to end now.

"I'm supposed to be his wife?! This barbarian?! You can't do this to me, father! Feyd-Rautha will destroy the empire and plunge us into the blood of war and senseless brutality. He's a psychopath; can't you see it? Surely there must be another way to keep the throne!" Irulan's screams echo throughout the guest wing. Your eyes widen in surprise, the unpleasant pang in your chest only adding to your daze.

So the rumours were true. The emperor wants to give Irulan to Feyd. You don't like this idea very much. If the Harkonnens married into the Corrino family, your right to the throne of Emperor, or rather the right of Lord Luwael, would be in jeopardy. No one stood a chance against them.

You snap out of your daze when you see the door handle to Irulan's chambers begin to move. You quickly run to your room and close the door quietly behind you as you wonder what the hell just happened in these few hours.

You return to your chambers blushing and with a rapidly beating heart. You can still feel Na-Baron's lips vividly on your neck, and you're sure you'll have to cover it tomorrow so no one will see the hickeys that bastard gave you.

How stupid you were again! How could you let him get so close to you again and corner you when you were alone in his territory?! And what's worse, he knew that it was you who went with him to the garden that night; he knew and he wanted more from you...

You shudder as wicked thoughts enter your mind, all because of Na-Baron's tantalisingly absurd whispers. How could you enjoy his attack on you? How could you moan so loudly in a deserted corridor? How could you shout his name and attract the attention of the guards?

You were damn lucky that no one caught you, that Lord Luwael disappeared somewhere, and that he didn't see you giving yourself to this... this monster like a mindless whore. It had to be the alcohol. They must have put something in your drink; you couldn't just... enjoy the touch of a Harkonnen, a Harkonnen who just a few hours ago had slaughtered you in the arena before your eyes and was enjoying it like a little child enjoys a candy... A Harkonnen whose body was ethereal beautifully...

You are snapped out of your thoughts when your mother enters your room in a state of… extreme daze.

"Mother? Have something happened?" You ask her, worried that your little (another) tryst with the Na-Baron might have turned out to be not such a secret at all.

"Lord Luwael just asked for my consent to propose to you. You did very well, Y/N. You will be an empress."

You swallow nervously and smile, nodding your head. Your mother hugs you, and you feel millions of thoughts racing through your head. You will become empress, but only if Irulan and Feyd-Rautha don't marry, and there was only one way to make sure that would happen.

You had to play a game with the devil himself and seduce and deceive him until the day it would be too late for his marriage to Irulan and you and Lord Luwael would take the emperor's throne. But how the hell were you supposed to do that without getting burned?

Taglist: @iloved1lfs0 @heartarianagran

[nchlsdmn]

Full Plot of the Cancelled Kashyyyk arc from Star Wars The Clone Wars: Season 7

Planet Kashyyyk is still neutral at this point in the war. Yoda travels to Kashyyyk, and his personal battalion is there waiting for him (they had been sent a couple of days earlier before the arrival of Master Yoda himself) and they inform Yoda that the Trandoshans have been doing deforestation in order to drive the Wookiees away to establish Separatists bases there.

The other reason is to intimidate the Wookiees into joining the Separatists or die off. Yoda senses Count Dooku behind this attack. It was the Wookiees themselves who called on the Republic for help, but being a neutral system – only Yoda and Clone Force 99 alongside Yoda’s personal battalion were sent there, with no additional clone reinforcements. Yodas battalion consists of 41st Scout Troopers and regular white clones with Yoda’s face slapped on their helmet.

As far as Chewbacca's role in this arc, we would have been shown his wife and family. Otherwise, the main Wookie Character is Tarfful. Other Wookies such as different tribes, elders, and children would have been shown as well.

Yoda wants to help the Wookiees so they get in contact with the few remaining villages that still live near a part of the forest which hasn’t been destroyed yet but that is about to be destroyed. Yoda advises them to leave their homes, but the Wookiees don’t want to. 

The Trandoshans come with a massive force and they drive the Wookiees out forcibly alongside Yoda, who are thus forced to retreat deeper into the forest and up a river which leads them to a water stream. Yoda and the clones then suggest to bait the enemies following them into an area of the forest so they can drive them away from the Wookiee villages.

Echo, new to Clone Force 99, would have become a sort of super-soldier due to all of his bionic enhancements. He would fit right in with the Bad Batch, and his demeanor changed, since he was now more cold-blooded and composed, as opposed to the indecisiveness that he showed in previous seasons. He serves as a foreshadowing of what Anakin would become.

His lobot-attachment would have been used for communications since he has a communicator close to his forehead, which shows him interfaces that were directly projected into his mind, so he would see them with his eyes but no one else around him would see them.

As for The Bad Batch, they were more accustomed to relating with the Wookiees than the regs. Hunter suggests bold strategies throughout the arc which the other clones weren’t really ok with since the followed more strict protocol. The Bad Batch also had their own hover boat, with their "clone force 99" symbol on it.

In Season 8, it was planned for The Bad Batch to execute Order 66, and they would have been treated as cold blooded assassins, a bane to Jedi. Though it likely wouldn’t have been shown on-screen. However, this arc is mostly to show the Bad Batch working with Yoda and the Wookies.

The clones suggest to burn all the trees down in that area of the forest in order to trap the enemy into their own nest. The Wookiees are against it but they then reluctantly agree that this is the best course of action and their only chance at success. They ask for forgiveness from the trees before doing this, and they then give the clones permission to do so.

Similar to the Bad Batch episode in Season 2, there are Kinrath and Maylyas deeper in the forest, and the elements of Wookies being one with nature is similar to how Yoda, a Jedi, believes in the force. The Bad Batch don't understand it, but they go along with it.

As for the Trandoshans, their leader, Babwa Venomor, was working with the Separatists, for Count Dooku. Some Trandoshans would have had night-vision goggles and snail tanks that they could use to tear through the forest.

The fires manage to slow the Trandoshans down for a bit, but it turns out not to be a definitive solution. After escaping the enemy, Yoda and the Wookiees prepare for war. The Wookiees ask for the help of tree spirits. They venture deep into the jungle in order to go warn the other Wookiee clans that the Trandoshans are coming and to sway them not to join the Separatists.

They use what happened to the Wookiees following Yoda as a motivating factor to tell the others that if the Trandoshans were not stopped, they would soon be coming for them too. In the meantime, the Trandoshans are preparing for battle and they are shown to be very tribal with trophies of dead Wookiee heads nailed to the walls. 

In the fourth episode, an all out war rages near the river because the Wookiees wanted to get far away from the trees in order not to harm their environment any further; and the battle ends up on a shore similar the one displayed in Revenge of the Sith.

Separatist craft land with Droid reinforcements, but the Trandoshans are the main enemy forces. One of the Wookies would have ripped off a Trandoshan's arms. Commander Gree and his forces would join the action with Yoda and the Bad Batch.

At the end of the battle, Babwa Venomor gets decapitated by Yoda in the same way Yoda kills Gree in ROTS, and he falls into the river along with his tank. When the battle is over, Kashyyyk agrees to allow the Republic to establish clone bases there, and became an ally of the Wookies, as they foresee a larger Droid Invasion coming in the future.

[nuemanfilms]

WET DREAMS || S.W

— You didn’t think Sam was the type to have a wet dream, but his heavy breaths and small whines against your neck said otherwise.

Summary; Unresolved tension that Sam and Fem!Reader are constantly teased for by the older Winchester finally gets resolved when Sam manages to have a wet dream while sharing a bed with her.

Content Warnings; Smut, piv, unprotected sex, size difference, belly bulge, Sweet and Dirty talk, Soft-Dom!Sam, Wet dream (obv), Mentions of Dean, mentions of sexual tension, heavy breeding kink, one bed trope, dry humping, cursing, creampie, pulling the panties to the side (yes!), Pet names (Sweetheart, Sweetgirl, Baby, Honey, etc.), praise + more!

A/N; 3 posts in a row? Woaaa. Also, please don’t spam my posts, shadowban exists. 1.4k words, proofread. 16+ advised.

xoxo, roro <3

After the hunt that you and the Winchesters were on, you were able to find some motel on the side of the road. It wasn’t fancy, but it was enough. You were all tired, so you didn’t bother arguing about separate beds.

You and Sam shared one bed, while Dean snored in the other room.

It was amazing, nothing really happened to piss you or Sam off and Dean not being in the same motel room to interrupt with his constant snores and sleep talk.

Your back pressed against Sam’s front. His arm stretched across your waist as he held you firmly against him. It wasn’t like Sam snored or anything, that wasn’t why you couldn’t sleep.

You couldn’t sleep because you could feel his arousal pressing against your ass.

His hips shifted, his 6’4 frame was enough to prevent you from moving especially with your small frame.

You and Sam weren’t exactly established, but you weren’t exactly friends either. Dean always teased you both about the clear tension whenever you were in the same room mere inches away from each other. The older one even noticed the glances you sent his younger brother. And he definitely saw how Sam’s tone and demeanor changed whenever Dean cracked a not funny joke or a flirtatious comment. Sam’s eyes trailing down your figure didn’t go unnoticed by you nor Dean either despite him thinking he was slick (but when was he ever).

Sam’s hips unconsciously grinded up against you, sending a shiver up your spine along with a rush of arousal to your core. You didn’t think Sam was the type to have a wet dream, but his heavy breaths and small whines against your neck said otherwise.

He was letting out incoherent mumbles while his hips continued to push up against yours. His hand tightened on your waist.

The man was still sound asleep.

You tried to be quiet, but who could be quiet when the man you’ve been wanting for years was dry-humping you in your shared bed?

You bit your lip, trying to contain a small noise from slipping past your lips. It didn’t last forever though when he let out a groan after he bucked his hips up particularly hard against you.

You let out a small whimper, and he stirred slightly. His lips parted as his eyes opened slowly. He didn’t realize he was pressed that closely against you until he looked down to where his crotch was pressed directly against your rear end.

“Shit, I’m so sorry-“ He was cut off with a groan when your own hips grinded against his. He was half awake, and he didn’t process the fact that his brother was in the next room. It’s not like you did either though.

“Sweetheart, what- what are you doing?” He gritted out through his teeth. You let out a soft whine in response. Sam could feel his length throb inside of his jeans that he wore to bed despite you wearing your panties and your shirt.

“Sam… please,” You pleaded, he let out a heavy breath again. On one hand, this was probably a bad idea knowing that you both had to leave for another case by morning with his brother in the car. On the other, he was fucking aching for you.

The logical part of his brain shut down when he heard your plea.

“I- uhm… okay, I got you- I’ve got you, honey…” He reassured, “Lift your hips,” He instructed, moving his hands down to unbutton his jeans. He discarded his belt earlier that night. When you did as he asked, his hand slid down from your waist to cup your heat through your soaked panties.

“Fuck, baby… you’re this worked up?” He groaned, his middle finger sliding against your clothed folds. He was collecting wetness through your panties.

You let out a hum in response. His hands tugged his jeans and boxers down just enough for him to be able to pull his cock out.

Sam knew you both wouldn’t have time to get changed in the morning, so he slid your panties to the side. Earning a whine from you as your pussy was exposed to the cold air of the motel room. He aligned himself up with your entrance, his lips covered your jawline with kisses as he carefully pushed inside of you. Your lips parted to let out a moan but Sam pressed his own against yours before you could.

When he finally sheathed himself fully inside of your cunt, he began to whisper praises against your lips. Cooing to you how well you were taking him, “Hey, hey… see? Taking it so well, you gotta loosen up f’ me, baby, hm? Can’t give you what you need if you don’t.” He reminded, his fingers snuck down to your clit. Sliding his fingers beneath your ruined fabric, rubbing at the bud to relax you further around him.

God, you were fucking tight. You were dripping as well, god, why hadn’t he done this sooner?

Y-You can move… please?” You whispered, he pressed a kiss to your lips one last time before he rolled his hips experimentally to see how you’d react. He felt your fingers tangle in his hair as you let out a gasp against his lips.

When he started up a pace, your mewls and moans filled the otherwise silent motel room. Everytime he moved, he filled you to the hilt continuously. Reaching that sweet spot so easily as if he knew where it was by memory. His index and middle finger continued to rub at your pearl, you stretched perfectly around him… even better than he imagined or could’ve dreamed of.

“God, Baby… taking me so well, huh? So small and you’re taking me like a good girl— jesus… you fuckin’ love me stretching you wide, don’t you, Sweet girl?” His tone was soft despite his vulgar words and his movements. You swore you could feel him in your guts.

Which proved to be right when his free hand pressed down on the head of his cock inside of you. You gasped even louder and he had a smirk on his lips.

“So deep- mm, Sammy…” You sounded so needy, and he clearly was getting his ego fueled. He loved how you dumbly told him how much you loved him inside of you, how your brain was turning to mush with his hands roaming your body and his cock hitting spots so deep inside of you that you didn’t even know existed.

“Fuck, you feel me, huh? Feel my dick inside this pretty little tummy? So small… filling you up in all the right ways, aren’t I, Sweetheart?” He groaned when he felt your cunt squeeze him, signaling that you clearly loved the way he spoke to you. Also that you were close. He could tell that you were anyways though, based on how your whimpers became more frequent.

The combination of his fingers, his cock, his words spilling in your ear, and how his hand pressed on the bulge in your stomach had you feeling euphoric.

“So close, so close- God…” You moaned, his hips began to stutter yet still kept a steady rhythm. He was close too, his length twitched inside of you.

“Come inside of me, Sam… need your fucking babies in me, get me all nice and full—“ You were cut off with a cry when his hips bucked hard enough to make you fall apart. The knot had already broken inside of you just from that single thrust. And by the way you tightened around Sam’s dick had him groaning against your neck.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? Me fucking my cum inside this ruined cunt of yours, huh? Don’t worry… gonna fill you up so good you’ll feel me for days. Gonna fuckin’ breed this cunt- get it all nice and full of me.” He was more vocal now just at the thought of filling you up. The thought of marking you in more ways than one. His hips stuttered before he stilled, a moan leaving his lips when he came inside of you.

He managed a few more weak thrusts before he stilled completely, overstimulation taking over you both. Your thighs were coated with arousal, your panties were completely ruined now, but that’s not what you both focused on. His lips kissed your jaw a few more times before he drew away from you, tucking himself back in his boxers before he pulled up your panties.

“Did so good for me, Angel.” He praised, pulling you into his embrace as your breathing came to be even. You were both completely spent.

His words held truth to them, you were certain you’d feel him for days.

[ynscrazylife]

stealing aaron’s glasses (aaron hotchner x wife!reader)

In your defense, you were dared by Derek to do it. After back-to-back cases, everyone needed a break, but especially your workaholic of a husband. You thought it was going to be hard to steal his glasses, since he was constantly wearing them to read over paperwork. However, your opportunity came fairly quickly when he took his glasses off in favor of rubbing his face.

“You poor thing,” you say as you walk into his office, going around to give him a shoulder message.

He lets you continue, ever appreciative of the kind gesture.

“You should take a break,” you advise him, kneading your hands into his muscles.

“A few minutes,” Aaron grumbles, only able to be soft around you. He folds his arms over his desk and puts his head down.

A few minutes is plenty. Finishing the massage, you quietly pluck his glasses off the table and slip them into your pocket. “I’ll grab you a cup of coffee,” you say, beginning to leave.

“Thank you,” he says dutifully.

Walking back over to Morgan’s desk, you flash a smile at him as you show him the glasses.

“Atta girl!” He says, giving you a high five.

“We’ll see how long it’ll take for him to notice,” you say, looking at the glasses. Experimentally, you try them on. “Woah.” It’s definitely blurry and disorienting.

“Lookin’ nice, Mrs Hotchner,” Derek teases.

“I can’t believe he sees the world like this,” you say, walking around a bit and taking it all in. It’s not long before you suddenly walk straight into a desk and the glasses make you dizzy, causing you to topple over.

“Oh, shit,” Derek says.

“Y/N!”

The concerned call comes from your husband who is now striding over. You sit up and look at him guiltily. Aaron stops short at seeing his glasses on your face.

“Cute,” he says in a voice that not even you can discern if it’s genuine or not.

He gives you a hand to help you up. “Are you okay?” He asks, glancing you over.

“Yeah,” you say sheepishly. “Morgan dared me to take your glasses!”

“Tattle-tale,” Derek mutters as he raises his hands up in surrender.

Aaron fixes him with an exasperated look, then takes his glasses and puts them back on. “You sure you’re okay?” He presses, caressing the side of your face with his hand.

You nod. “Just a little dizzy,” you assure him, shrugging.

“Oh, I’ll give you something to be dizzy about,” Aaron says with a smirk, before taking you by the arm and spinning you around, then catching you and holding you close against his chest.

“Aaron!” You exclaim, laughing but also surprised that he’d do something like this in front of all his colleagues. “That was mean.”

“And coaxing me into taking a break so you could steal an object that I rely on to see isn’t?” He says.

You pout and Aaron goes so far as to squeeze your face, smushing your cheeks. He can’t help it, your silliness is infectious, and one of the many reasons why he fell in love with you.

“I think everyone deserves a break,” Aaron says to the BAU team. “Take off early for today.”

The team cheers as Aaron throws an arm over you, heading back to his office so that he can grab his stuff and you guys can leave.

“Steal my glasses again and I’ll get you back for it, sweetheart,” he mutters into your ear.

[lovemomhatepolice]

lando norris nswf alphabet (part 2!) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) There is no chance that Lando will ever in his life ask you for anal sex or agree to it. NO CHANCE. Ever since he first heard about it in his life, it has disgusted and disturbed him so much at the same time that he stands away.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Well, don't tell me Lando doesn't look like a munch. Totally do. Okay, he's also a big fan of you on your knees in front of him, until it takes his breath away as he looks at you all smeared with his cum with a wide smile and trained lips. But oh boy! He sometimes begs you to lie down in front of him and let him give you pleasure. The biggest plus is that Lando is well trained in this. Damn knows where he acquired such skills, but they are unearthly.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Fast, but not violent. It's already in Lando's nature to speed everything up, but it's not painful in the process. With the rest, slow sex is not for you. Well, I beg you, where would all the fun be? The whole process is a little slower when Lando finally pushes you to the wall and your relationship is not in any comfortable place, but he continues to try to keep his cool.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) You love quickies. What more can be said here? You can't keep your hands off each other, so every possible opportunity to get even closer is even advisable. You definitely prefer it more, of course, when you have more time (and, most importantly, space), but when there is no such chance, quick fun together is fine for you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) Norris has it in him that he likes to take risks - he doesn't spare himself from hot kisses with you in public or even light pinches or pats on your buttocks. But if the matter comes down to sex, I don't think he's taking too many risks. Lando respects his privacy after all, so sexual matters remain between you. Possibly in front of the whole club when you come out of the restroom quite smudged and giggly. Or in front of his family, well. What goes in the family doesn't die, right?

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) As much as you want. Really. Lando I think is pretty darn sturdy and can fly several rounds at a time, which is no surprise to you. More than once, with light breaks, you spent the whole night like that. Sometimes it would even start to dawn and you would be in each other's naked embrace, the hot temperature of the room and a mass of giggles.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) No, he doesn't own any toys. He just doesn't have any - he's not a contrarian, he himself even bought his friend an inflatable doll for his birthday. In your relationship he would sooner use some on you, so 100%, if you own a vibrator, Lando will reach for it at some point and see how it works on you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Lando is so damn teasing! Once he will rub up against you, once he will "accidentally" touch you somewhere, once he will whisper such ungodly things to you, and then he will leave without a word. And during sex? I beg to differ. If only he has the strength to do so, he will interrupt until the last moment before your climax, just to hear your voice admonishing him in the midst of your moans.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Ay Lando is loud. In every possible aspect of his life, so in bed too. If he doesn't talk during sex, you definitely won't have it quietly anyway. Norris often giggles, and when he's not giggling, he's pretty darn vocal. Oj this boy is definitely not afraid to moan and show that he feels like heaven thanks to you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) He loves, well he so much loves to brand you. He gets the same way when you bestow a hickey on his neck. Raspberries on your breasts? That's the standard. In summer it's hard to hide the signs of love from Lando under dresses and short tops. But that's what he loves. He proudly shows off whether it's his neck or his chest.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Well I think above average. Although Lando is not some particularly tall and massive, that's what his advantage is. I'm telling you that there's something about his pants that you don't expect ;P

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) God. Huge. As I mentioned before - you can't take your hands off each other. If you could, you would fuck each other every day. No matter what way - any way would be good. That's why yes, the sex drive Lando threw up when he first met you. And no matter what you do or what you're wearing! Remember

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Ay, it depends on the moment. Anyone who knows Lando knows well that he happens to fall asleep in the least expected places and circumstances. This is also the case after your sex, but by the fact that there are a lot of emotions in between, he has to talk them out first, and only then can he go to sleep. After proper after care on your part and his, you both fall asleep in each other's embrace (Lando on your breasts)

A/N: part one if you miss it, english is my second language i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open, and I am very close to 200 followers! maybe I can get in by the end of the week?

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[acmelxvr]

Take A Seat, Inquisitor

Pairing: Female Lavellan x Solas

Summary: Solas finds the Inquisitor in desperate need of some relaxation in the Winter Palace. And, well, he can provide.

Genre/Tags: Explicit, Canon Compliant, POV Third Person, Spoilers for Dragon Age: Inquisition, Drunk Sex, No Penetration Though, Thigh Riding, Praise, Dirty Talk, Ear Licking, Edging, Orgasm Denial, Biting, Premature Ejaculation, Mentions of Oral Sex

Word Count: 3,900

Notes: This is my first Solas fic so be gentle pls...I also posted it on AO3, you can read it there by clicking this link if you want :3

“And that’s how I ended up hunting wyverns in the Frostbacks with only two pairs of breeches!” All the nobles and Inquisition personnel in the small circle laugh at the lord’s story, some more forced than others. The ball at the Winter Palace wanes into the early hours of the morning now with no end in sight. Although drinks and food are still being served, the massive crowd has thinned into small packs of chattering lords and ladies who would dare not make the faux pas of leaving too early.

“I think I’m going to explore the library.” Lavellan murmurs to Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen. The excuse is enough to dissuade the rest of the crowd from protesting the Inquisitor’s departure from the group, but her three advisors are unconvinced.

“Take me with you.” Cullen pleads through gritted teeth, smiling a bit too wide as he barely follows along to the conversation taking place. Josephine tuts at the Commander but simply nods at Lavellan. 

“Good idea. You might find some of the more intellectual attendees who would be interested in learning more about the Inquisition.” Josephine’s eyes twinkle at the possibilities, and the Inquisitor nods politely.

“Yes, I will most definitely be doing that.” She says flatly, causing Cullen to snort and this time earn a light kick from Leliana that could easily be passed as a stretch of the knee. As Lavellan begins to take her leave, the Spymaster grabs her arm and turns to speak over her shoulder to avoid any eavesdroppers.

“You did well tonight.” She starts. “You are a complete natural at The Game, despite the many forces working against you.” Lavellan smirks at the praise, knowing Leliana probably thought she would trip over her own two feet. “You’ve earned a respite, even just for a few hours before our work starts up again.” The last part she fully whispers, leaning in conspicuously. “For once, I will advise you to not listen to Josephine.” She smiles knowingly before dropping the Inquisitor’s arm. 

Lavellan chuckles. “You read my mind.” She takes small steps through the ballroom towards the vestibule, occasionally saying hello to people she passes. Her mind spins with the possibilities of her alliance with Empress Celene; what it means for the Inquisition, for the Dalish, for herself. The Inquisitor is still deep in thought when she looks up and realizes that her body seemed to auto-pilot her straight into the Grand Library. The guards that used to be stationed near the entrance have disappeared, gone hours ago once the threat against the Empress’s life was neutralized. She worries over this for a moment, before dropping her shoulders and taking a deep breath as she remembers Leliana’s words.

Her fingers trace over the many titles packed into the various shelves, some in languages Lavellan doesn’t even recognize. She smiles softly as she picks up a book by a professor in the Free Marches collecting Dalish songs and tales. She leans against a desk, facing away from the Grand Library entrance, while she flips through the pages and remembers a much simpler time. 

“I figured you’d be hiding in here.” The voice makes her jump, yelp, and drop the book at the same time. She quickly turns with her hand over her hidden dagger strapped to her thigh, only to sigh when Solas snorts with laughter. “The Inquisitor should not be so easily caught off guard.” He exclaims, the two flutes of champagne in each hand shaking as he chuckles to himself.

“Yes, well, forgive me if it pleases you.” She snips, then grimaces when Solas raises his eyebrows slightly at her short tone. “I’m sorry. I had finally escaped from all those people out there…I guess I got a bit caught up in what I was reading.” Her explanation is jumbled, but Solas places the two drinks on the desk before waving her off.

“Do not apologize. I’m certain you’ve had a much busier night than I. I can leave, if you wish.” He points towards one glass as an offering. Lavellan nods gratefully before grabbing the thin spine of the delicate piece and holding it close to her chest.

“Please, stay.” She says. “You’re good company.” Solas smiles and shakes his head as another laugh escapes him. He heads towards the shelf Lavellan previously occupied, now examining the tomes himself.  With his back towards Lavellan, she can’t help but take in Solas’ form. He towers over her a bit and his broad shoulders also help distinguish Solas from the Dalish elves she’s used to. Even in the alienages, Solas stands out as…bigger.

Lavellan coughs, a flush climbing her cheeks as her mind wanders to more depraved thoughts about Solas’ body. Solas was certainly free with his verbal affections, but they had only just started engaging in physical affections recently. Even then, they had only kissed. Lavellan didn’t mind waiting, of course, but it felt as though every time it developed into something more that Solas pulled away. 

Solas clears his throat, bringing the Inquisitor out of her thoughts as though he has eyes on the back of his head and can see how she’s examining him. Or maybe being a mage with a speciality in the Fade lets him read minds. Lavellan’s eyes widen as the drink begins to take hold. Can Solas read minds? She thinks, half seriously. “Inquisitor?” Solas asks.

“Yes!” He turns to fully face her as he holds a book in his hand. “Yes, sorry. Long night.” She mutters, taking another sip. She can feel Solas’s gaze on her as she redirects her vision to a different corner of the room. The shadows dance along the wall as the various candles around the room burn low. There’s a moment of silence, as though Solas is deciding to address the tension in the room. 

“I asked whether you enjoyed your time in the Winter Palace tonight.” Solas leans against the bookshelf, a sly smile gracing his face. “The way you managed to navigate the nobility, the ballroom floor, and an assassination attempt was particularly stunning.” He swirls his beverage in one hand as he flips through his chosen book. Solas’ choice of words cause Lavellan to finally bring her attention back to him. She scrutinizes him for a moment, furrowing her brow as her eyes rake over his stature from head to toe. Finally, she smiles too.

“Solas, are you drunk?” She asks. She giggles as Solas opens his mouth to give a quick retort, but closes it when he realizes he doesn’t have one. He shakes his head in slight embarrassment and drops his eyes as the Inquisitor continues to quietly laugh. “I guess I need to catch up.” Lavellan murmurs as Solas regains his footing in the conversation.

“I will admit to partaking in more drinking than I usually allow myself. All the power, intrigue, danger, sex…” He notices how Lavellan crosses her legs when he pauses. “Well, I suppose it’s nice to go unnoticed for an evening. To engage in behavior that is unbecoming of me.” Lavellan shakes her head, alleviating his fears that she thinks less of him now. “You haven’t answered my original question.” He states, placing his book back on the shelf.

“Enjoyed is not the word I would use.” She pauses, thinking deeply on her answer. “I’m glad I was able to play The Game well enough. It was almost satisfying being able to talk circles around humans.” Solas nods ruefully, staying silent. “But I was on edge the entire time. Constantly waiting for something to go wrong. And when the Grand Duchess was dragged away…” She trails off. 

“Power can be suffocating, sometimes.” Solas finishes Lavellan’s thought. They’ve both finished their drinks at this point, the flush on Lavellan’s face indicating that she’s just as tipsy as Solas is. “There are times when a decision needs to be made. Even the correct choice is never an easy one.” Solas’s expression turns serious, and Lavellan cocks her head.

“So you think I made the right choice? Going with Empress Celene?” She asks. The candles in the Library have dimmed even further as the moon creeps higher above Halamshiral. Solas tilts his head back against the fine wooden shelf, crossing his arms and looking down at the Inquisitor.

“Is my praise necessary for you to feel at ease?” His question makes Lavellan laugh, a true laugh that comes from her stomach. It’s infectious to Solas, a smile creeping onto his face replacing the scowl he had moments before. “Briala and Celene could never have ruled together, and Gaspard is a disaster when it comes to court. In the Fade I’ve seen whole nations crumble because someone would rather force a compromise than make a real decision.” He moves towards Lavellan, all social grace completely lost, and places a hand on her shoulder. “You made a real decision, ma vhenan. They are never easy.” 

Lavellan looks up at Solas, who is only now an arm’s length away. “Ma vhenan?” She restates, teasing Solas now. “That is an odd way to pronounce ‘Inquisitor’, Solas.” Her hand creeps up to rest on top of Solas, the space between the two elves shrinking as he moves to grip her waist.

He rests his forehead against Lavellan’s, rubbing her shoulder with his thumb adoringly. “You looked breathtaking tonight. You were magnificent, awe-inspiring. You’ll forgive me if I drop your title. I couldn’t bear to hide how I feel for you any longer.” He pulls back momentarily to kiss the top of her head, one hand moving to the small of her back. She leans into his touch, and for some minutes the pair is silent, their embrace only betrayed by the soft skitters of someone passing through the hallway.

The trance is broken as Lavellan gives a soft push to Solas. “I should head back now. There are people probably looking for me.” She groans and rolls her shoulders, her muscles tensing back as she recalls what it feels like to have a dozen pairs of eyes on you at all times. She turns to leave, but Solas captures her arm.

“You’ve played your part for the night, vhenan.” Solas pulls Lavellan flush against him, her backside against his groin. Solas forgets his inhibitions as he pulls her collar back to plant a kiss on her neck, making Lavellan gasp. Another kiss and a roll of Solas’s hips makes her groan louder, planting her hands on the desk. “Relax with me. Forget your duty, even for a moment.” Solas’ words cause a small pit of guilt to form in his heart, but it retreats when Lavellan moans again. 

“Josephine would personally see to our executions if we were caught having sex in the Winter Palace.” Lavellan’s skin is practically lit on fire with every single one of Solas’s touches, his fingertips dancing down her waist. “And I think the Orlesian nobility would die from heart attacks if they found two naked elves here.” She turns to face Solas, who stops momentarily to grin wildly, showing his sharp canines.

“I haven’t said anything about being naked.” Their faces are inches apart, both of them breathing heavily as arousal sits heavy in their stomachs. “There are many things one can do to relax without being naked, if their imagination allows it.” Solas whispers in Lavellan’s ear. He pulls away and guides Lavellan to a plush couch in a dark corner, far from any immediate entrance into the library. Solas lets go of her hand and sits on the couch, spreading his legs wide. He leans back on the couch, throwing one arm over the velveteen, and pats his thigh, beckoning Lavellan to sit.

To sit on him.

Lavellan swallows as she takes the sight in. She’s imagined, dreamed of sex with Solas dozens of times, but this was something entirely new. Something she hadn’t even begun to consider, but was still enticing nonetheless. “Is this something you want?” She asks him.

“Yes.” Solas answers so quickly that Lavellan is taken aback. “Nothing would bring me more pleasure right now than to give you pleasure.” He holds out a hand for Lavellan to grab, and tugs her on top of him. “It is selfish of me to admit, but I do not kiss you the way I do solely for your benefit.” He rolls his thigh up causing Lavellan to cover her mouth as she moans. “I do it because I also enjoy it. No, enjoy is too simple of a word.” He turns his head to think while Lavellan grips his shoulders with both hands. “I relish it. Feeling you against me, with only some layers of clothing to separate us…Fenedhis, ma vhenan. You’ve undone me. I haven’t been this overcome with desire in a long time…You make it difficult to control myself.” He plants his hands on her hips. “Let me guide you. Let me show you what I mean. We can reckon with our indulgences in the morning.” 

Solas’ words have Lavellan dripping. she nods, and plants herself fully onto Solas’ thigh, moving her hands to Solas’ neck and jaw. He starts pushing her back and forth against his leg, adjusting the pressure by examining the way her face contorts just so. She moves to cover her eyes but Solas stops her. “You are so beautiful right now, vhenan. Do not think about how you might look, but focus on how you feel.” She obliges Solas and slowly drops her fingers back to his jaw. Solas notices how his words make her quicken the pace, if for a moment. “Ah, so you do need my praise to feel at ease. Very well.” 

Solas keeps one hand on Lavellan’s hips, and moves one to the back of her head, entangling his fingers in her hair and pulling her down so he can whisper to her. She gasps as he presses up into her, causing her to roll her hips on her own. Although she can’t see it, she knows Solas is smiling with pride right now. “Just like that, perfect. You are a natural at this, vhenan.” His lips move against her ear as she forms a rhythm, her moans forming a perfect harmony with Solas as he groans from the pressure building in his own sex. The slight push and pull causes him to rub against the smooth fabric, making him knit his brow in concentration to ensure he somehow doesn’t cum before she does. He can’t remember the last time he did something like this with someone else; and while he’s relieved himself plenty of times since meeting the Inquisitor, he didn’t allow himself to think their relationship would get this far.

Lavellan whines loudly when Solas grinds up against her clit, the wet patch on his thigh exciting him more than before. He pulls Lavellan so that way they’re face to face, and kisses her like it’s the first time. She heaves against him, pressing her chest against his to get a better angle. Solas groans, louder this time as Lavellan’s knee presses up against his erection. Like everything else about Solas, it’s somehow bigger than she expected. “If you keep stopping, Inquisitor, you will inflate my ego. And getting you into this position has made me prideful enough already.”

 He kisses her again, sloppily this time, the alcohol ignoring any expectations of how their first time together would go. Solas presses his tongue against Lavellan’s, his eyes rolling back at the vibration of her moans. He finds her chest with one of his palms, kneading her and finding a nipple with ease. She yelps when he pinches and rolls, her thighs beginning to shake. Lavellan’s pace has quickened to a point where her thighs burn, the strain of muscle mixing with her pleasure. She begins to chant his name, panting and whining when Solas lets go of her nipples and moves his hands to her backside, massaging Lavellan and gripping her with a strength she didn’t know he had. “Do you know how many times I’ve finished thinking of this exact situation? How I’ve dreamed of having you completely?” Lavellan shakes her head. “Thirty four times I’ve spilled myself over my own hand thinking of how beautiful you’d look like this. For the first time in my life, my dreams cannot compare to the real thing.”

Lavellan gains confidence through Solas’s words and leans forward, almost coming in for a kiss but at the last second, she moves past Solas’s lips. Instead, she focuses on his ears; she licks a long strip from his jawline to the tip of his ears, noticing how Solas shivers and making him wonder how the hell she figured that out. She laughs while still moaning and gasping for more. “I knew you were sensitive here. Had to be, because I noticed how you pulled away the first time we kissed when I went to grab you,” She moves her thumb just underneath the other ear, making Solas jump in shock and pleasure. “Here.” She finishes, returning her mouth to latch onto Solas’s helix. She licks a circle around the apex of his damned ears, running her tongue up and down the ridge before returning to his lips. “Imagine what else my mouth can do.” Her breath mixes with his as both of them pant, although Solas does close his eyes momentarily to see the picture she’s painted. 

Solas bites his lip, almost drawing blood by how close he’s come to cumming over himself. Both of them are sweating now, Lavellan’s pristine hair stuck to her forehead. “Fenedhis–” She presses her knee against Solas’ cock again as she moves her clit down onto him, “–Fuck–”, he groans loudly as her pace quickens and she begins to babble quietly in his ear. If someone had walked in on them, Solas was too preoccupied to notice.

“I’m going to–I think I’m gonna–” Solas nods approvingly while Lavellan’s release reaches its peak. Solas closes his eyes, tears forming in the corners as he pleads with himself to hold off for just a bit longer. In a final move of complete desperation and arousal, Solas latches onto Lavellan’s neck.

And bites.

Lavellan yelps and it’s what finally sends her over the edge. She cums on Solas’s thigh, stuttering and gripping onto him while he licks at the marks his teeth had left. Both of them are moaning, although Lavellan has the sense to cover her mouth. When she finally comes down from her orgasm, Solas leans back to examine his work. Lavellan looks down and breathlessly laughs. “I made a bit of a mess.” Is all she says, and Solas lifts her momentarily to examine her handiwork.

Solas’s thigh is so soaked that Lavellan’s juices had even begun to pool next to Solas in those final moments. He smiles softly and pats Lavellan approvingly. “It is an easy enough task to warm my hands and dry my clothes, as I have done before. Do not worry.” Lavellan moves to get up off of Solas and onto her knees in front of him, but he stops her. “As much as the thought entices me, and believe me when I say it does, I’ve stolen enough of your time tonight.” She crinkles her brow in confusion, and gestures towards Solas’s groin where his erection is clearly visible, and pre-cum has even started leaking through his trousers. 

“Ah.” He says, and while he does entertain the thought longer than he should have, he still shakes his head. “This was for you, not for me. And besides,” He stands up and kisses Lavellan. “I can’t imagine there won’t be more opportunities for me to catch up.” Lavellan snorts, giving another kiss to Solas before smoothing down her attire and hair. 

“How do I look?” She asked sarcastically.

“Magnificent.” Solas responds, moving closer to brush her hair with his fingertips. He plants a gentle kiss on her forehead. She seems to be remembering something and laughs; Solas tilts his head in a silent question.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse like that. I didn’t think ‘fuck’ was even in your vocabulary.” Solas’s cheeks flush red and he coughs in surprise.

“Yes, well…” He stammers underneath Lavellan’s stare. “You bring out a part in me I thought I put away long ago.” Solas smiles lightly. “And that part is inclined to curse, occasionally, when underneath a fascinating woman such as yourself.” This time, Solas is the one to let go. He nods towards the Library entrance, and Lavellan sighs before squeezing his hand and stepping quietly into the hallway. He waits until he can no longer hear her footsteps before sitting down and throwing his head back against the couch. The late hour and sudden physical activity has him utterly spent.

The elf looks down, his cock practically bursting against his leg and begging to be taken care of. “I’m not that depraved.” He murmurs. Solas’s eyes close, and while he tries to think of more important matters, he can’t remove the image of Lavellan on top of him from his mind. The way she bounced on his lap, how her mouth felt against him, makes Solas bite his knuckles to hold back a moan. How she jittered when he marked her, claiming the Inquisitor all for himself as her neck bloomed with purple splotches from his sharp teeth and how quickly her release came from an action that felt as natural to Solas as blinking. Solas breathes in, then out through his nose, attempting to bring himself back to reality, but he can’t help but recall the offer she left on the table before Lavellan took her leave. Her lips would look so pretty wrapped around him, gagging and moaning as she would try to take him all the way, his tip hitting the back of her throat—

Solas jolts suddenly as his orgasm hits him like a slap against the face, the dark stain of cum now spreading down his thigh. Solas bites down hard on his palm, unable to fully hold his voice back as the smallest movement against his trousers prolongs his release even further. When the immense pleasure finally subsides, Solas opens one eye hesitantly to assess the damage. He groans into his hands, a conjured flame able to dry his clothes but not the Orlesian, and definitely expensive, couch.

It’s hours later when the morning sun rises over Halamshiral that the Inquisition takes their leave. Solas blearily rubs his eyes and yawns, although when he catches Lavellan’s smile he can’t help but reciprocate despite his weariness. The Iron Bull looks between the pair before laughing and slapping Solas on the shoulder. “Sleep well?” He asks simply, although Solas knows the Bull well enough to know that his questions are never simple.

“No, I had a long night.” Solas quips, eager to head back to Skyhold and be as far away from the Winter Palace as possible. The unspoken part being that he is more eager to finish what he started mere hours before.

“Yeah? Spend some time cleaning in the library?” The Iron Bull asks, looking at the way Solas and the Inquisitor blanche before guffawing loudly. As he walks away he shakes his head. “You guys are not fucking subtle.”