#i love them wholly your honor

[elismor]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Clone Trooper Boil/Clone Trooper Waxer (Star Wars) Additional Tags: First Kiss, Clone Trooper Shenanigans (Star Wars), Betting Pool, kenobi would have come in fifth, Drabble, Drabble Collection, 100 Drabble Challenge, waxerboilmonth2023 Series: Part 4 of Waxer & Boil Month 2023, Part 26 of Star Wars Drabbles, Part 21 of Ten Thousand Words is a Drop in the Bucket

A drabble written quite late for week one of @waxerboilmonth and doing double duty as entry 45 in my 2023 100 Drabble Challenge.

Prompt: First Kiss

[drones-of-innocence]

Imagining one of Mario's primary love languages being physical touch...And the terrible tragedy that is the class difference between he and Princess Peach that makes him feel absolutely mortified to approach her first 😖

And also just his manners. He's a gentleman. The last thing he wants to do is make anyone uncomfortable, so he would never dream of approaching a whole entire Princess, thinking his presence is an inconvenience compared to her sheer radiance.

And who is he to ask her for something as silly as a hug? He feels embarrassed and tries to stuff it down, kind of putting on a tough front. But Luigi knows, Luigi hugs him all the time. Think of all the enemies that he has to go through, the man doesn't get a ton of physical contact that isn't violent.

But if Peach found out (say, Luigi gives it away), imagine that she tactfully begins to approach him more often. Grasping his hand, Hugs, kisses as a reward upon rescue 😌 I already see her as a physically affectionate person as it is, but especially if she developed feelings for him, imagine her ramping it up just for him, knowing it helps him feel loved 🥺 Imagine her gradually making him feel brave enough to approach her first when he needs love?

[helluvapoison]

heyy i was wondering if you could do like Lucifer x reader getting married if ,you want to ofc🫶

btw i love your work so muchh, thank you!!🫶(also english is not my first language so i hope i didn't write anything wrong)

Absolutely I Do

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

a little insight to your wedding with the king

[part ii (18+ only)]

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• What would be a tamer version of a bridezilla? Not quite lashing out at everyone and their mother over the tiniest details but blowing a fuse when white roses arrive and he specifically asked for white gardenias?

• That would be Lucifer

• Asmodeus is his best man and the other Sins are his groomsmen, they’ll handle the flower debacle and any other matter that needs saving

• Good natured Charlie was given, arguably, the easiest task of holding onto the rings! She’s more than capable of planning the entire event on her own (and she asked to… twice) but Lucifer wanted her to enjoy this wedding as he wouldn’t be having another

• It’s part of why he wants this to go perfectly!

• He never thought he’d find another love after Lilith. He didn’t even realize that while you were delicately filling in the crater she’d left, he was falling more and more in love with you

• The other part, his pride and perfectionism aside, is that while it may be his second wedding, it’s your first. In his eyes you deserve only the best and he’ll be damned all over again if he doesn’t deliver

• You told your fiancé (FUCK he loved that word coming out of your mouth, almost as much as he was going to like husband!) to at least try to not go overboard. To which you received a “Me? Overboard? Darling, I would never! Simple and elegant, that’s what the headlines will say!”

• The many, many, many vision boards said otherwise. However you already knew damn well “simple and elegant” translated to grandeur and extravagant– and that’s exactly what it was. To Lucifer’s credit, it wasn’t gaudy or blinding. It really was a gorgeous spectacle

• Per his request it’s an all white event, a stark contrast to the overall location. The guest list is massive. After all, Lucifer’s still a king and certain people would be offended if they missed an occasion like this. Everyone goes all out. Bodies pour into chairs, everyone dripping head to toe in white garments and glamorous jewels

• Lucifer preened and primped, checking the mirror a couple hundred times and asking whoever was in the room if he looked ok. Anything less than “outstanding” had him groaning as he turned back to the mirror

• The wedding suddenly seems like a terrible idea. Not because he has cold feet (he’s rather sweaty, actually) but because the moment he sees you he just wants to steal you away

• You are positively and wholly breathtaking. The stars are jealous over how you outshine them! He can’t do anything but stare in amazement as you walk down the aisle

• Does he, Lucifer Morningstar, vow to protect, love, cherish and serve you for all eternity? Undoubtedly. He adds a few his own too like spoil you rotten, compliment you hourly, never ever never let you feel like you’re alone— all things he’s already done but wanted to make it “official”

• “It’s been an honor to be your confidant and friend… but I’m dying to do that and more as your husband.”

• Then do you take him to have and to hold, for better or worse, richer or poorer?

• “I do.” You answer proudly, squeezing his hands ever so slightly

• Forgetting present company, forgetting he’s a king and supposed to act dignified, Lucifer doesn’t wait to get permission to kiss you. He jumps slightly, knowing you’ll catch him instantly. Hugging your neck he crashes his lips onto yours

• You giggle against him, returning the kiss briefly before setting him down. (Hell knows he’d get carried away and forget much more if you didn’t)

• “I do believe you’re my husband now, Luci.”

• The entire wedding may as well have been a surprise party the way his eyes widened, as if it only just set in what the ordeal was for

• “Oh my golly, I’m your husband. I’m your husband! Hey everybody, I'm their husband!”

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ don’t apologize, you did great friend! thank you so mochi and i hope you enjoy

[goodnightmemes]

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SEASON TWO SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ Duty is sacrifice. It eclipses all things, even blood. All men of honor must pay its price.

❛ War is coming, to the whole of the realm.❜

❛ I am indebted to you. ❜

❛ I'm afraid. ❜

❛ We should've just killed her when we had the chance. ❜

❛ When the king speaks, Your Grace, all hear it. ❜

❛ I find myself wondering...do we pursue the same end? ❜

❛ You must accept that the path to victory now is one of violence. ❜

❛ Did you think I would wither in your absence? ❜

❛ You only blame me because your true enemies are out of reach. ❜

❛ She holds love for our enemy. That makes her a fool. ❜

❛ I promise you, you will have all the vengeance that you seek, but you must keep a grip on your impulses. ❜

❛ Do anything but what I ask, and I'll bleed the whole lot of ya. ❜

❛ The gods punish us. They punish me. ❜

❛ This is not the time for blind accusations. We'll know who did this soon enough. ❜

❛ I will not be seen as weak. ❜

❛ Sometimes, we have to pretend. ❜

❛ I cannot trust you. I've never trusted you, wholly, much though I wished to, willed myself to. But now I have seen that your heart belongs only to you. ❜

❛ You think me some kind of monster. ❜

❛ You're pathetic. ❜

❛ We can afford no further mistakes. ❜

❛ You are mad. Mad! You cannot think that I did this! ❜

❛ You would send me to my death. ❜

❛ I would remind you only that when princes lose their temper, it is often others who suffer. ❜

❛ I see all your great adventures have done nothing for your looks. ❜

❛ For too long, I made it my aim to be of consequence. But now, I see that was the wish of a child. ❜

❛ I wish to spill blood, not ink! ❜

❛ Instead of judgment, you display impetuousness, and diminish us in the eyes of our enemy! ❜

❛ Fuck dignity! I want revenge. ❜

❛ They wish now not for the good of the realm, but for the petty satisfaction of vengeance. ❜

❛ Soon they will not even remember what it was that began the war in the first place. ❜

❛ There is no war so hateful to the gods as a war between kin. ❜

❛ I'm as fearsome as any of them. ❜

❛ You showed me grace when you could have withheld it. I'm not often surprised. ❜

❛ I cannot promise to make you happy. But I ask you: make this sacrifice willingly, for all of us. ❜

❛ If you've not yet surmised, you are welcome here. ❜

❛ Sin begets sin begets sin. ❜

❛ If dragons begin fighting dragons, we invite our own destruction. ❜

❛ Do not coddle me. Grant me at least that dignity. ❜

❛ Sadness is a condition of motherhood. ❜

❛ You have as much claim to grief as anyone. ❜

❛ Tales take on a life of their own, like weeds. Unless they are tended. ❜

❛ Always coming and going, aren't you? And I have to clean up afterwards. ❜

❛ You will die in this place. ❜

❛ I have been, at times, unkind, but never untrue. ❜

❛ You must go before you are discovered. ❜

❛ Your mother must've been very beautiful. ❜

❛ You should've burned them when you had the chance. ❜

❛ Is there no honor left in this world? ❜

❛ This is a better death than a traitor deserves. You should thank me for it. ❜

❛ I will not be made to look a fool in front of my allies and enemies. ❜

❛ I believe it is a sin to deny your appetites. They are what make us fully alive as mortal men. ❜

❛ If I may be so bold, you have not seemed yourself of late. ❜

❛ I've barely had the hours to grieve one tragedy before suffering the next. ❜

❛ I've come to know the face of tortured rest well enough. ❜

❛ Do you think simply wearing the crown imbues you with wisdom? ❜

❛ You have no idea the sacrifices that were made to put you on that throne. ❜

❛ What would you have me do? ❜

❛ Do simply what is needed of you: nothing. ❜

❛ Where have you been, these last days? You vanished without so much as a word.❜

❛ There are those who have mistaken my caution for weakness. Let that be their undoing. ❜

❛ If you die, all is lost. ❜

❛ The horrors I have just loosed cannot be for a crown alone. ❜

❛ Do you take issue with me? ❜

❛ I can sit still no longer. I must act. ❜

❛ I did not think they would be so eager to die. ❜

❛ I need them alive. I came here to raise swords, not corpses. ❜

❛ Will you goad me? When your bread and shelter now depend on my pleasure? ❜

❛ I mislike feeling powerless. ❜

❛ I do not know my part. The path I walk has never been trod. ❜

❛ What you cannot do, let others do for you. ❜

❛ There is more than one way to fight a war. ❜

❛ I do not wish to stand alone. ❜

❛ Has your loyalty faded? Or does it flourish only at night and flee the sunrise like a moth? ❜

❛ What we must do now is... terrible. ❜

❛ This is not war. These are crimes against the innocent, that any upright man would repudiate. ❜

❛ And once again, in the name of power, it's the weak and the women who must endure. ❜

❛ Was it worth the price? ❜

❛ I caution you, boldness is one thing, but overconfidence… ❜

❛ You have the impetuousness of youth, and its arrogance, neither of which is to be desired in a king. ❜

❛ Have the indignities of your childhood not yet sufficiently been avenged? ❜

❛ To claim a dragon, you must also be prepared to die. ❜

❛ You can't possibly still be angry about this. ❜

❛ You weren't going to bid me farewell? ❜

❛ It is your way, is it not? When something does not please you, you run. ❜

❛ There are older things in this world than you or I, or living memory. ❜

❛ You are not the player, but a piece on the board. As am I, for that matter. ❜

❛ It is my fault, I think, that you have forgotten to fear me. ❜

❛ It was worth the risk, no matter the outcome. ❜

❛ The enemy without may be fought with swords. The enemy within is more insidious. ❜

❛ Do you take me for a fool? ❜

❛ Oh, you make an art of provoking me. ❜

❛ Stop wasting your life waiting for something that'll never come. ❜

❛ I'm sure you did your best. ❜

❛ They will underestimate you, and this will be your advantage. ❜

❛ If the gods call me to greater things, who am I to refuse them? ❜

❛ Nothing is clean here. ❜

❛ The order of things has changed. Why not embrace it? ❜

❛ It does seem to me that you've made rather a mess here. ❜

❛ I don't need their love. I need their swords. ❜

❛ Mind your tongue. ❜

❛ I mislike all of this. ❜

❛ It seems you need us more than we need you. ❜

❛ So, what was the fucking point in all this then? ❜

❛ It's best to live, I think. However you do it. ❜

❛ You are not alone. ❜

❛ Will you prepare to face such an enemy? Or will you stay here and make yourself easy? ❜

❛ If you hinder our efforts through sloth or unreadiness, I will see you hanged, and your body fed to the dogs in the street. ❜

❛ You've arrived just in time to see my new army. What do you think of it? ❜

❛ This place will have you barking at the moon. ❜

❛ We must all make our sacrifices. ❜

❛ 'Tis no longer our rule that is threatened, our very lives. ❜

❛ Perhaps all men are corrupt and true honor is a mist that melts in the morning. ❜

❛ The dragons dance, and men are like dust under their feet. ❜

❛ We march now toward our annihilation. ❜

❛ There will be time enough to see which one of us is a coward. ❜

❛ There are omens here for those who seek them. ❜

❛ It's all a story and you are but one part in it. You know your part. ❜

❛ I am meant to serve you, and all of these with me, until death or the end of our story. ❜

❛ Be strong. You know you are just. ❜

❛ History will paint you a villain. ❜

❛ I am at last myself, with no ambition greater than to walk where I please and to breathe the open air. To die unremarked and unnoticed and be free. ❜

❛ You speak as if from a distant dream. ❜

❛ Come with me. ❜

❛ My part is here, whether I will or no. It was decided for me long ago. ❜

[darkficlord69]

Cregan Stark x Targ!Reader

Warnings: smut, 18+, unprotected sex, 18+ language, death, character death, angst, sadness, not proofread

Cregan Stark was indubitably a wolf: ever since he sprang up from his mother's northern womb he had a savage attitude kept in place by his house's sterling reputation for personal integrity. But when his gaze locked onto yours, all semblance of restraint evaporated from his big muscled body like a snowflake slowly melting under the hot sun. When he met you, he felt like a starved animal ready to pounce, to hunt, to eat something so positively delicious that it would satisfy him to no end...

Despite having lived your whole pampered life on Dragonstone, under your mother's constant and loving supervision, you felt at home in the snow covered Winterfell. And when you descended from your mauve scaly beast with a wingspan bigger than the tallest watchtower in Deepwood Motte, you shivered although you were drowning in thick layers of fur and wool. That is, because you met Cregan. He looked at you with an intesity that was at odds with the iciness of the climate and you could do little but avert your gaze to avoid losing yourself in those stormy grey eyes that twinkled with desire.

"My lord, it is an honor," you curtsied clumsily due to your heavy attire but Cregan quickly put a hand on yours to help stabilize you and prevent you from falling face-first in the snow.

"The honor is all mine, my princess," he replied in a husky voice that almost brought tears to ths corners of your eyes. Whatever passed between you was a dangerous thing, hotter than fire, yet fickler than a shard of thin ice.

"I hope your journey was pleasant," he said.

"Oh, definitely, my lord of Winterfell. Now, I believe the politics and scheming can wait for the morrow, but riding Kocsaryon has made my belly rumble in hunger. A feast is in order, if it please you."

Cregan gave a curt nod and led you to the Main Hall, where a feast had already been laid out. The long wooden tables groaned under the weight of hearty soups for each heart, each dish more decadent than the last, the aromas mingling in the air like a seductive promise of indulgence.

At the center of the hall stood a massive boar, its skin crisp and golden, crackling with fat that had been painstakingly rendered over hours of slow roasting. It was stuffed with onions, apples, and a medley of herbs that filled the air with their heady scent. The juices ran clear as it was carved, pooling on the thick wooden platters beneath, where hunks of dark meat were passed around to eager hands.

Beside it, platters of venison, seasoned with juniper and garlic, had been seared to perfection, the meat tender and pink within, the crust dark and fragrant. Roasted root vegetables, earthy and sweet, nestled alongside them, their edges caramelized to a rich mahogany.

A serving girl approached Cregan to clear away a platter of untouched meat and your eyes darkened when her hair brushed against Stark's shoulder.

You stuffed yourself until your belly groaned and then you chanced a glance again at Cregan who was watching as you cleaned your fingers by putting them in your mouth and slowly sucking in a suggestive gesture that was meant as a provocative invitation. Lord Stark's eyes hardened with unmistakable lust and he rose abruptly, mumbling excuses to confused guests. He promptly grabbed your hand and led you outside.

"If you will follow me, my lady. I have something to show you."

By the time you left the warmth of the Great Keep, you were wholly intrigued by this escapade. Cregan knelt before the weirwood tree that seemed to weep blood as you joined him in prayer.

"So, are going to..." No sooner had you started to ask your question, than Cregan's lips were on yours, kissing you with a ferocious intensity that went beyond mere words. His expert tongue left a trail of saliva down the column of your neck, your jaw... He licked and sucked like a newborn wolf pup, but his groans were the howl of a fully grown member of the pack.

"Oh, gods!" you yelled, uncaring of who may hear.

He quickly disrobed you, your smallclothes thrown far, far away and then you were naked beneath his lord's piercing gaze, trembling with anticipation as heat pooled between your legs.

"Cregan, pleaaase!"

The night beneath the godswood was a symphony of passion and primal need. The ancient trees stood silent witness as you and Cregan came together, your bodies intertwining with an intensity that left you both breathless. The air was cold, biting even, but the heat in your lower stomach was enough to ward off the chill for a time.

He kissed you with a fervor that spoke of years of restraint finally unleashed. His hands, rough and calloused from a lifetime of wielding swords and axes, were surprisingly gentle as they roamed your body, tracing every curve and dip as if committing you to memory. You shivered beneath his touch, but it wasn't from the cold. It was from the raw power and the undeniable hunger in his eyes, the kind that made you feel like the only thing in the world that mattered.

As the night deepened, the cold crept closer, seeping into your bones. But you were too lost in him, too lost in the way he made you feel alive in a way you had never experienced before. You clung to him, seeking warmth and comfort in the strength of his embrace, in the heat of his body pressed against yours.

But the North was unforgiving. The warmth of passion was no match for the biting cold of the northern winter. Even as Cregan held you close, his hairy body shielding you from the worst of the elements, the chill began to seep into your skin, turning your breath to fog and your lips to ice.

Cregan sensed it before you did, the way your shivers became more violent, more uncontrollable. He pulled back, his brow furrowing in concern as he looked into your eyes, now glassy with the onset of hypothermia. His heart clenched painfully in his chest at the sight.

"You're freezing," he murmured, his voice rough with worry. He pulled you closer, trying to rub warmth back into your limbs, but it was too late. The cold had already taken hold, and no amount of heat from him could chase it away.

You tried to smile, tried to reassure him that you were fine, but the words caught in your throat, your lips too numb to form them. You could feel the warmth of life slipping away, could feel the darkness creeping in at the edges of your vision. But you didn't want to let go, not when you were here, in his arms, where you had always dreamed of being.

"Cregan..." you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. "I'm sorry..."

His eyes widened in horror as he realized what was happening. "No," he growled, shaking his head. "No, don't you dare leave me."

But you were already slipping away, your body going limp in his arms. The last thing you felt was the warmth of his tears on your face, the last thing you heard was the desperate, broken sound of his voice calling your name, begging you to stay.

When the dawn broke, the godswood was silent, the snow around you undisturbed save for the imprint of Cregan's body beside yours. He held you tightly, even as the life had long since fled from your body, refusing to let go, refusing to accept that you were gone.

The godswood bore witness to many things over the centuries, but the sight of the Lord of Winterfell, the fearsome wolf of the North, cradling the lifeless body of the one he loved, was something that would linger in its memory forever.

For Cregan Stark, the godswood would never again be a place of peace, but a place of sorrow, a reminder of the warmth he had once held in his arms and the cold that had stolen it away.

Guyss, this is my first fic! 🫣 Please let me know what you think so that I can improve my work 🐺🌙💫 Thanks for reading! 💝

[kteezy997]

The Heart of a Bene Gesserit- Part Four//Paul Atreides//Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

Warnings: cursing, smut, threesome, f and m receiving oral sex

“As a Bene Gesserit, I feel that it is my duty to see how you are being treated here. But please trust that I have no ulterior motives. I’m not wholly certain of the conditions of the slave quarters, but I’d like to find out.”

“Well, the food is shit, they give you just enough water to stay alive after being out in the scorching desert all day, and the beds here are hard and cold, but other than that, it is rather pleasing.” the biting sarcasm from the youngest Harkonnen was palpable.

“Mm-hmm.” you nodded, “I will speak to the Emperor, he needs to be more generous to the men who mind his spice. What you have is not enough.”

“That is very honorable of you…”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n.” he said your name, smiling and giving you a glimpse of his teeth. “But I fear that your suggestions will fall upon deaf ears. I cannot blame Atreides, if our roles were reversed, I'd have him enslaved as well, or I'd have just killed him. Our families have held hatred for one another for centuries, you should already know that."

“But he shouldn’t hate you, Feyd. You were just a boy, the same as Paul, when his father was killed. You were not a conspirator against the Atreides.”

“I have to ask: why are you lending yourself to my cause? Is it because Atreides has rejected your advances? Has he refused to give you the heir you were sent to acquire?” his dark eyes narrowed down at you, putting you on the spot.

You shook your head, “How did you know about the mission?”

Feyd-Rautha shrugged, “People talk. We don’t have much down here besides talk of spice. But the slaves have learned much about you, y/n.”

“Hm.” you huffed, “Well, you may know that I never did advance on Paul. He is my friend.”

“Friend? An Emperor has no friends, only followers.” he knew this to be true, as he was almost Emperor himself.

“Paul and I knew each other as children on Caladan.”

His non-existent brows raised up, he blinked slowly, “Oh, a childhood crush, is it?” he smirked.

You looked down, "I do not wish to speak of this."

"I suppose he rejected you, and now you're bored, so you're after the next best thing-"

"Silence!" you used the Voice.

Feyd's eyes closed, the movement of his mouth ceased against his will. "I see you've mastered the Voice."

"I am Bene Gesserit, of course I have. They do not let you graduate without doing so."

"I can also see that this is a sensitive topic for you, so I'll change the subject." Feyd slowly walked over toward the shadow edge of the roof. "I have a request for you, since Atreides won't likely show me any kindnesses."

You were intrigued, but also worried at what he could have wanted from you. "What is your request?"

"Get me off-world, back to Geidi Prime. Somewhere I can hide out from the Emperor."

"Feyd, he would kill you if he even knew you asked me that." youj warned.

"Precisely. Which is why he would never know."

You sighed, "You have given me much to consider, but I should be leaving. I have a feeling we are being watched by one of the servants."

Feyd gave you a smirk, "Well darling, if I knew we were being watched, I would have given them a show."

........

You left Feyd-Rautha and the slaves' quarters, returning to your wing of the House. You felt a little bit exhausted after your conversation with the Harkonnen and all the thoughts of Paul's reaction. You just wanted to sleep. You couldn't believe how quickly your life had come to revolve around two men.

You found yourself wrestling with thoughts of them both. You loved Paul Atreides, but there was something charming and also forbidden about his cousin Feyd. Were you attracted to the anti-Paul?

You took an afternoon nap, and your dreams became increasingly indecipherable from reality. First, there was Paul, your sweet Paul, his rich, dark curls falling in his face. The look of tenderness on his face warmed you up from the inside out. Then, the smooth, naked skin of Feyd-Rautha, his piercing eyes sending chills all down your body.

In this dream, you were in bed. Were they, taking turns with you? Feyd was waiting patiently by the bed, while Paul was kissing you all over. You were naked and breathless, trembling, even.

Paul had moved his face between your legs, flicking his Fremen blue eyes up at you. He started to lap his tongue between your folds. But it seemed that Feyd was having a difficult time only watching. As Paul sucked at the tiny bundle above your opening, you felt the bed sink at your side.

Feyd placed his big hand on your head, smoothing your hair back. He traced his fingers along your face, trailing down your chin, your chest, all to cup your breast in his hand. You gasped as he pinched your nipple.

Paul nibbled and kissed your inner thighs and rubbed your clit with his fingers.

You noticed Feyd's other hand at his waistband, and he pulled his pants down. Your eyes met his pale, veiny cock as he brought it to your lips. You opened your mouth, obediently, inviting his length. You moistened him with your saliva, sucking as best as you could.

Paul was moving up your body, his lips traveling along your stomach. He too, cupped your breast. Each man held your breasts, and your nipples hardened against their palms.

Paul's face was now close to yours as you had Feyd's cock in your mouth. He watched you, adjusted his body between your legs. You could then feel the tip of his cock prodding at your wet entrance.

You were then in a horny daze as you were abruptly woken by a servant barging into your bedroom.

"Sorry to wake you, my lady, but it is time for dinner."

"Who gave you the right to barge into my room while I'm sleeping?" you barked, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

"Well, His Majesty, the Emperor, does, my lady."

You rolled your eyes, "Of course he does."

…….

That evening at dinner, you didn’t sit next to Paul, you didn’t talk to him, you didn’t even look at him. You wanted him to feel your absence, your neglect of him. He had been cold and rude toward you, so why should you warm up to him?

As you ate, you looked over at Gurney Halleck, sensing something about him. You were nearly positive you were being watched with Feyd-Rautha earlier. Gurney was behind it, you were certain. But why? Was it Gurney acting alone in his suspicion of you? Or did Paul put this into place?

As the meal ended, you made it a point to get up from your chair and simply head back to your room, without trading words or even a glance with Paul. No Bene Gesserit tricks, as you promised. You would get him to come to you, if he so wished, the natural way. Deprivation.

It was nary a moment after you closed your bedroom door before there was a knock. You knew who it was. You opened the door, “Paul.”

“Y/n.” said the Emperor. “Are you alright? I heard you spent the whole afternoon in your room. You did not come to council. Are you ill?”

“No, I am not ill. You should not bother yourself with worry about me, Paul Atreides. You have much more important duties.”

“You know you are important to me.” he said, resting his hand on the door frame. “You are my one true friend. As long as you are alive, I will care for you. That is all this is.”

“A true friend? Is that why you sent a spy for me?”

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake

[gortash-did-nothing-wrong]

A Type Of Love

Minors Do Not Interact

Feyd x reader

Just a little idea of what Feyd would be like during an arranged marriage and once his wife got pregnant.

Warnings: cannibalism, canon typical violence, typical Harkonnen culture, Feyd is his own warning

His mother once told him, at five years old as he sat in her lap, watching the sun set over the horison, "Don't love anyone but your children. Anyone you love will be used against you, limit you, and make you lesser."

Feyd had looked at his mother, curious. "Well, shouldn't I not love my children then?"

His mother chuckled, kissing the top of his head. "I'm afraid that's not an option for people like us, son. I'm afraid you will have no choice whether or not you love your child."

Feyd didn't realize at the time that the reason his mother took great pains to raise him to be so fundamentally different from other Harkonnens was to ensure that when he sired the chosen one, he wouldn't smother him in his crib. The deep sense of honor his uncle couldn't break him of, even as he was forced to kill his mother, was all a tactic by centuries of Bene Gesserit plotting to ensure their messiah figure was safe.

Feyd took his mother's lessons to heart, even when his memories of her tore at what little heart he had left. When he was assigned a wife by his uncle, he made sure he didn't get attached to her. He did his required duty, visiting her twice a week in her quarters until she fell pregnant. Once she informed him she was with child, he stopped visiting her. He spent his free time with his concubines, the only women he let himself be fond of. Even then, the fondness was that one would have for a pet, not a lover. They were content with that arrangement, as he did spoil them beyond reasonable limits.

His wife seemed to be content with him ignoring her. Yet even without his help, she managed to weasel her way into his uncle's council. She had somehow made an ally of Rabban, giving him advice on everything from women, to dealing with Fremen.

He tolerated it… until she started showing. Once her stomach swelled with his child, he could stand it no longer. He forbid her from speaking to Rabban. He basically confined her to her quarters, and when she complained about feeling imprisoned, he took her hand and lovingly walked her down to the slave pits. He held her still, forcing her to look upon the miserable wretches in the cells. "Still feel imprisoned, my wife? Or have you found a new fondness for your grand room?"

She stiffly nodded, tears silently flowing down her face. He feasted on them, lapping at her face until the tears stopped flowing. She clung to his arm the whole walk back to her rooms, and something foreign and wholly unwelcome began to take root in his wretched heart. Fondness.

As her stomach grew, so to did his new emotions. He found himself unable to stay away from her, spending his nights in her room more often than not. He insisted she dine with him for every meal, and began pressuring her to try a new type of meat. He teased her with the idea of eating the flesh of his kills, assuring her that any heir of his would only grow stronger from it.

She looked sick anytime he brought it up, but to her credit didn't flinch when he snapped one day, killing a slave in front of her and slicing his gut open. "Pick your preference, my wife. Liver? Lung? A chunk of thigh?"

His wife met his gaze, her voice firm and strong when she answered. "The heart."

He carved it out himself, handing it off to a trembling servant who brought it back some time later, perfectly roasted and seasoned.

He stared, his eyes fixed to her face as she calmly cut into the flesh he had provided for her, and delicately raised her fork to her lips. The thin cut of meat passed over her lips and her eyes fluttered shut as she tasted it. She took a liking to it, if her fast eating was anything to go by. Soon her plate was clean, and Feyd felt nearly feral with desire as she delicately dabbed at her mouth with a napkin.

Her eyes were warm and soft with adoration as she looked at his cold blue eyes. "Thank you, my husband."

The deeply rooted fondness he had been unable to rip out began blossoming into something far more dangerous. May the stars comfort his mother's weary soul, because it seemed he wouldn't be able to obey her lessons.

[mariequitecontrarie]

Fascinating to me that the ONLY person who seems even vaguely aware of Penelope’s feelings for Colin is Debling. Colin believes he has an inkling, but until the night he thinks Debling will propose, he’s afraid to ask.

Debling is also the only person other than Colin who ever asks Penelope what she wants. “Why do you sit at your drawing room window so often?” “All week I’ve watched you search for someone.”

Not only does he ask her, he forces her into acknowledging her feelings; challenges her to realize that the things she thinks she wants: independence, privacy, a life where she can choose her own pursuits (things Debling can give her) are not what she really wants: love, friendship, laughter, protection (things Colin already gives her).

Also Pen’s callback to “I would never dream of courting Penelope Featherington” and “I overheard you telling everyone you would never, ever court Penelope Featherington” makes this exchange pure gold.

Penelope: “I can assure you, Colin Bridgerton would never, ever have feelings for me, it is laughable to think as much. We are friends. Nothing more.” (The lady doth protest too much.)

Debling: “Would you like it to be more?”

Pen: “I do not…that is not even…that is not a possibility.” (The resignation here breaks me.)

Debling: “I did not ask if it was a possibility. I asked if you would like it to be.”

Contrast this with Portia Featherington’s disbelief that Penelope wants to hold out for love. “Be smart, Penelope, or I will be smart for you.”

When was the last time anyone asked Penelope Featherington what she wants???

For me, that makes Debling walking away from Pen so honorable because HE CAN SEE that Colin and Penelope want to be together; he can see their yearning and knows if they have a chance to work through their misunderstanding, they will find what they both want: each other.

Debling is also decent enough to be honest with Penelope about what he’s willing to offer. She all but asks for his love and he makes no promises.

Debling is wholly honest with himself and with Pen—a lesson Penelope and Colin desperately need to learn for themselves and together.

I’m really excited to see Part 2 bring Pen and Colin to this place of seeing themselves and each other fully and accepting the beautiful but imperfect love between them.

[lieutenantfloyd]

Yooo I'm always happy to see new Dune writers! 🫶 Could you write sth about Feyd and Rabban competing for Reader's affection? Can be HCs or written, whatever suits you most

Competing for your affection headcanons | Feyd-Rautha & Rabban x reader

Warnings: mentions of blood, possessiveness, bullying, polyamory, and implied mental abuse.

Authors note: I have some ideas for a full fic, but I wanted to get some headcanons out first!

From the moment their feelings arise, they are deeply competitive with each other and wholly possessive of you.

This often leads to physical fights between the brothers, only ceasing once there is a heavy mix of blood and humiliation.

The one thing they can both agree on is that if a threat arises, they will stop at nothing to keep you safe and defend your honor.

Neither one of them is going to try to woo you in a typical or expected manner.

Feyd-Rautha will put his focus into mind games and wearing you down mentally, while Rabban takes an uncharacteristically soft and physical approach.

Rabban fails to understand why Feyd is so outwardly cruel to you and often wonders if he should mimic Feyd’s actions as a way to win you over.

Meanwhile, Feyd takes pleasure in harassing Rabban over his glaring soft spot for you.

The interactions you have with them are wildly different for each brother.

Rabban needs someone to see through his rough exterior and grant him kind words and soft touches. Both things he’s never once received before.

Feyd-Rautha needs devotion, challenge, and the illusion of control. Attend his fights, dress his wounds, and call him sweetly by his title while also alluding to the fact that you will always hold the upper hand.

Their egos and emotional immaturity will eventually lead to their demise, which in turn allows you to toy with the situation as you wish.

If you choose to solely pursue the Na-Baron:

Rabban will descend into an absolute rampage, unable to cope with his unrequited feelings.

Feyd-Rautha, on the other hand, will grow even more confident at his perceived “victory”.

He’ll even go as far as dressing you up in Harkonnen dress and parading you around.

Behind closed doors, however, he’s completely at your mercy.

As Feyd gains more power and you make more public appearances as a couple, the reality of your relationship becomes more widely known.

It’s not long before it becomes glaringly obvious that while Feyd may have birthright and claim to thrones, you are the one truly in control.

If you choose to solely pursue the Count:

Rabban will take you back to his planet of Lankiveil before Feyd-Rautha can sink his blade into his brother's chest.

While at first he feels like he must be harsh to you, it quickly melts away until you see more signs of kindness from Rabban than you ever could have expected.

Rabban has had a hard life, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with or how to convey his feelings to you.

What he does know is how good treating you well makes him feel.

What starts as small gestures—like keeping you well fed and teaching you to defend yourself—eventually manifests into him waiting on you hand and foot.

Controversy will arise as the public becomes aware of your relationship.

The great houses, the brutal society of Geidi prime, and even the rest of the Harkonnens are completely incapable of understanding how you turned their fearsome Beast into your personal lap dog.

If you choose to pursue them both:

It will take careful planning along with keeping their behavior on a tight leash, but the reward certainly outweighs the risk and labor you need to invest in the relationship.

Initially they’ll both be needy, angry, and complicated. Frustrated as to why they can’t have you alone, while also being grateful to receive any affection in return.

You often have to act as a mediator between them.

Over time—and using your love as a common ground—a strange form of respect grows between them.

The Baron does not keep his disdain for your relationship a secret, afraid of how it will affect the House as well as the Emperors and the Bene Gesserit’s plans.

Feyd and Rabban are quick to match his words with their own unconcealed threats.

While their words barely phase him, The Baron is shaken to see the heirs finally getting along even momentarily.

With each of your unique skills now working together, both Feyd and Rabban are happy to serve your personal soldiers while you strategize to gain them more power over House Harkonnen and eventually the Imperium.

[marthawrites]

Only A Scratch

Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word count: 3.4k+

About: Aemond requests you, a healer who has tended to his wounds before, to accompany him on a trip to Duskendale.

Includes: One bed trope! A more balanced mix of plot and porn featuring elements of mean!Aemond, injury, dick sucking, cockslapping, roughness, mild manhandling, mild degradation, unprotected vaginal sex, and mentions of fem receiving oral sex

Note: Hello lovely reader! This story is based on a request from @babyaemond with the quote of "you know what your problem is?" with our favorite one-eyed war criminal. Thank you, Chris ily! 💖 I had an absolute blast writing this and I hope you like it too! As always, reader is non-descript. Please, enjoy!

-

The realm might not believe it, perhaps not even the occupants and workers of the Red Keep would believe it, but, Aemond Targaryen was a momma's boy. He loved and respected his mother more than anyone else in all the kingdoms. With her nameday coming up, Aemond wanted to get her something extra special.

One afternoon while visiting Helaena during her embroidery time – little niece and nephews playing with him in the middle of the floor – he brought the idea up to his sister. 

"I think that a lovely idea, Aemond. You fetching Duskendale's greatest painter? Mother will hang the portrait somewhere everyone can see," Helaena replied with bright eyes. "And they have those mollusks who produce the most dazzling pearls. You can't go all that way and not get her jewelry!"

Aemond smiled. Helaena and her children were the rare people to draw genuine emotion from the prince. "I will pick something in your honor. Your gift to mother."

"And Aegon?" She asked.

"Aegon won't get any credit for these gifts. He wouldn't even be able to keep the secret, much less add to the surprise."

The princess giggled; unguarded in the company of her family.

-

To say receiving the dragon prince's offer was a surprise would be a vast understatement. He wanted you to go along on this trip with him? Out of all the healers and maesters? Even if you wanted to, you could not tell him no. Bewilderment buzzed around you as you rode out of King's Landing on horseback with him, Ser Arryk, and Ser Erryk.

It wouldn't be a long trip. Perhaps a week, there and back, with some leisure time to enjoy the city when you arrived. 

The twins were a skilled and respectful pair. You felt safe with them. You wondered, mind idly wandering as the twins led the way out of King's Landing, if you were Aemond's first pick for an accompanying medic. Fog rolled up from the sea and blanketed everything with a haunting gray. If it weren't for golden ways of sun piercing through clouds and fog like javelins it would be considerably creepy. Rays brought out your natural coloring, and when you turned to look across your shoulder to prince Aemond he looked wholly regal: silver hair shimmering, riding garb decorated with his House's sigil (as if anyone would need reminded who he was), breath hanging in the chilly morning air like he truly breathed smoke.

He felt you looking at him. "I don't need two eyes to see you staring so hard, girl," he said, turning the full attention of his single eye to you. Lilac. It nearly glowed in the foggy subdued brightness.

"Apologies, your Grace," you said with a guilty little grin. "The last time I saw you I was bandaging your newly stitched thigh. A much different sight than what I have of you now. You clean up well," you said, tiny smirk not leaving the outermost corners of your mouth. "Nasty cut it was… how did it heal?"

His face remained skillfully blank. There could have been a dozen emotions hidden behind that perfected poise; from his posture to the way he held the natural shape of his bowed mouth, he didn't allow you a glimpse into how your words affected him. "It healed well."

"I'm pleased to know I made such an impression that you'd request me to join you on this journey. An honor, truly, my prince," you said with quiet pride.

"There are two women in court who are heavy with babes. Both will be making their entrance into the world and day now. None of the maesters would risk leaving them," he replied with an edge of curtness, words clipped and even. "It was only then I considered you."

Ouch. "Oh," you said, a little taken back. "Well, I still stand by what I said," you added, trying your best to deflect the sting his words gave you.

"Hm," he hummed, smug. It was his turn to smirk, now.

The rest of that first day’s ride went relatively smooth and uneventful. That is, until Aemond got bucked off his horse. It was a miracle you were able to stay on yours! The twins’ horses, while still terribly frightened, appeared to be of a more mellow mind for they were able to be soothed while Arryk scouted ahead to see what might have caused the fright. You dared not leave yours during the ordeal in case you needed to get a galloping headstart. Tension hung in the air until Arryk came back. “A black bear is perhaps a quarter mile away,” he said upon arriving. “I didn’t see any cubs and the beast seemed unbothered by me. It was gorging on berries. Are you alright, my prince?”

Luckily Aemond was able to break his fall. Unfortunately it came at the cost of landing on his forearm upon a ridiculously sharp rock. A jagged cut ripped through his riding gear and into his leanly muscled flesh. You had helped wrap it with a clean linen bandage for now, but crimson bloomed beneath the binding. He would likely need stitches once all of you were settled into an inn for the night. “‘Tis only a scratch. Let’s get to the next town before nightfall, yeah?”

Arryk stole a glance with you, and then his brother, and you once more before nodding to Aemond. "A scratch," his eyes had silently said to you; a flash of sarcasm gone quicker than a blink.

The next town on the road to Duskendale was small and hardly worth mentioning on a map. Climbing roses in full bloom covered the inn's facade making it quaint and homely alike; their heady aroma lingered heavily and you wished you could bottle the fragrance. Echos of the scent followed you inside and mingled with savory foodsmells of dinner. 

"'Fraid we're about full t'night. I hope you all don't want separate rooms," a middle-aged man with wild eyebrows said from behind the bar. He leaned on it as he looked all of you over. "Ain't seen one of you Targaryens around in awhile. Pleasure ta have you, Prince Aemond. Now, what can I do for you lot?"

"Three rooms and dinner for everyone. That's all," Aemond replied as he produced payment for the innkeep.

Turning, the man inspected what keys were left. "Hmm… I have only two rooms available." Pulling the keys from their hooks he handed them over. "One bed in each of 'em."

Yet another tense silence fell over the group. The unmistakable tingle of a blush rushed to your face. Shit shit shit.

"We need three. Surely you can kick someone out for the night," Aemond said a bit too sharply, fingers reaching for another few coins to bribe the man.

"Ha!" He guffawed. "No can do. Prince or no, I have a good reputation and I don't intend on breakin' it."

The twins shared an amused glance and you wanted to die.

"Fine," Aemond said as he took the keys and tossed one set to Arryk and Erryk. "See you at first light to break fast before leaving."

You followed Aemond into the room you'd be sharing for the night. One bed. You hoped it was a big one.

Once inside, any hope of surviving the night with all your sanity and wit vanished in an instant. The bed was tiny. And, as if things could get any worse, there was only one pillow and blanket. Surely Prince Aemond Targaryen never considered this happening.

Tension crackled between you two and you wanted to jump out the equally tiny window and run all the way back to King’s Landing. "At… at least neither of us will be cold in the middle of the night?" You half-stammered, trying, feebly, to break the silence.

"You better not snore, girl." He flashed you an icy glare but the smirk of his mouth spoke to something else. Amusement? A challenge? "I'm going to bathe."

While he was gone you were left to stew on the current predicament. Ever since you first laid eyes on the young prince he never left your brain. To you, he was unbearably dashing and roguishly handsome. He was cold, cruel (according to rumors), and smug in a way that made you want to strangle him and drown him in kisses alike. Over the last year or so you'd helped tend to his wounds a few different times, and each time you left with more butterflies in your belly than before. They said his kin were closer to Gods than men, and you believed it.

After hardly eating during the day you were half-starved. You ate your dinner while he was still gone, and left for the women's side of the bathing quarter before he returned. In your experience not all inn's had the space for a proper bath – you weren’t going to pass this up. 

Upon returning – clean, refreshed, and still warm from the bath – you saw Aemond laying on the bed in his nightclothes with his uninjured arm tucked behind his head. It was stupid – absolutely fucking stupid – how handsome he looked in such a regular position. He was all long, and lean, and sharp angles. You wondered if he housed any softness within himself. He'd got a fire going in the small mantle and it crackled peacefully. Light and shadows accentuated the natural lines of his chiseled face, eyepatch practically orange in the glow. After a moment of awkwardly fumbling with your damp hair, you asked, "how's your arm?"

"'Twas only a scratch. I'm fine," he answered, making no move to shift his position to make more room for you on the bed.

"You're lying. It bled through your bandage on the way here," you retorted, squinting at him suspiciously.

He sighed. "And now it's done bleeding."

Turning, you double checked the latch on the door. Sure of the lock you turned back to Aemond. "Can I at least see it?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Are you deaf, or daft?"

It was your turn to glare at him. "You know, I never truly believed the rumors of you being cruel." You threw a cloth you’d used to help dry your hair onto the table as you stepped, firmly and deliberately, across the small room to the bed. "But now I believe it. You know what your problem is? You are rude." Without allowing yourself to process what you were doing – and not giving him a moment to, either – you were straddling over his lap. Demanding. Determination hardened your features. "Let me see it."

Aemond tensed beneath you and the pupil of his eye swelled. He wasn't expecting this. His jaw feathered as the hand behind his head immediately lunged forward to grab your throat. Squeezing gently, warningly, he smirked. "And you know what your problem is? You are an insolent brat." Your eyes softened to those of a doe and it sent his cock twitching beneath your thinly covered center. "Mayhap you forget who you are speaking to, girl."

Breath shuddered from your lungs. You felt him beneath you and it instantly sent fire rolling through your belly. Desire. Lust. So easily he turned your irritation to something else entirely. "I only want to check on it," you said against his careful grasp, trying your best to appear innocent.

He laughed. "Climbing on my lap like this I think you want something else. Tell me… what more does this bratty little mouth do?" With his question he slowly released his hold from your throat, thumb trailing across the softness of your bottom lip. The darkness of his eye glinted when he heard a faint whimper tickle up through your chest. "You'll have to be louder than that…"

Without having to be told you grazed your tongue along his curious thumb, pulse hammering behind your ribs and between your legs alike. Could he feel how hot you were? Boldness coursed through your blood. "Your Grace…," you simpered, looking at him with dazed eyes. "I've wanted you for so long." You dared to nip the tip of his thumb, gently rolling your tongue beneath it. He tasted clean with hints of wood and smoke from stoking the fire. It made you ache.

"I've other things that need tending to, now. Perhaps if you play by my rules I'll play by yours," he proclaimed, pushing his digit further into your mouth. He hissed quietly with the sensation. Greed and need simmered in his chest, threatening to boil over. You weren’t even doing anything and yet you still drove him near wild.

Your hands spread across his chest. “Those are fair terms,” you said with a playful tilt of your head. Your eyes roamed over his throat and what was exposed of his collarbone. Sleek, pale, warm. He was so warm. How could he be when it was so chilly? You unlaced the lazily tied strings of his cotton sleep shirt, fingernails gently scratching down his front. You smiled when he hissed another inward breath. Beneath you, he neared full hardness. “Needy prince…,” you crooned, sliding from his lap as elegantly as you could so you were laying between his legs. You stroked along his cock through his cotton sleep pants, teasing. “Perhaps Targarenys are closer to men than Gods after all.”

"I like you better with something in your mouth," he said, tutting, as he shifted his legs a bit to give you more room. Now he moved, you thought, how generous of him.

Vibrating with your own need and impatience, you unlaced the front of his pants and tugged them down just enough for his cock to spring free. You gasped, satisfied. "So big, your Grace." He had a lovely cock. Truly. It was hot and solid in your hand when you stroked it, head blushed and swollen without you even having to tug downwards on his length. 

You'd be lying if you didn't secretly hope something like this would happen with the tension of sharing a bed and room. But this? You licked up the underside of his shaft, wrapping your lips around his tip, sucking, and moaned at the sensation and taste.

Aemond groaned. "Is this what all you little medics do, hm? Tend to broken men before swallowing their cock?" He taunted, glaring at you triumphantly, mouth parted in silent bliss.

Instead of answering him verbally, you took more of his length into your wanting mouth. Flattening your tongue against him allowed you to hollow your cheeks. You looked up at him all the while, basking in the way his features changed; the way he somehow tensed and relaxed at the same time. You dragged your mouth up until only his sensitive head was wrapped by your lips, then down, lower, and up again.

"Fuck…," he groaned, eye rolling closed. One hand gripped into the thin faded sheets while his other moved to your damp hair. He threaded his fingers through it, gripping, tugging, just slight. 

Your eyelids trembled as a needy whine broke free from your lips. He popped free from your mouth with the noise. You chased his cockhead; wanton. Saliva built in your mouth and the sounds of you lavishing his cock were borderline obscene. You willingly choked on him; you throbbed as you squeezed your thighs together.

He grinned when you came up for air. His hand unfurled from the bedclothes and moved to the base of his length. He gripped himself and held your head still by your hair, expression widening with smug pride. He smacked his cock against the side of your face, traces of your saliva shiny on your skin. "Who knew my favorite little healer was such a whore, too," he purred. A second and third series of smacks followed. 

Bolts of lust jolted right to your core. You clenched around nothing; arousal gushing from you like syrup. "Aemond…," you gasped, vision hazy. "Please," you begged, unsure what you were truly begging for.

Him. Just him. Whatever he would give you.

"Such a pretty sound from your lips," he said, darkly and adoringly, as he delivered a final slap of his cock to the silky skin of your mouth. He leaned forward and grabbed you by the sides of your arms, pulling you up so you were nearly nose to nose. Without even looking he raked the hems of your sleep gown up while simultaneously yanking your smallclothes down. His fingers slid up your folds, testing your arousal. What he felt sent the entirety of his manhood aching. 

He had to be inside you. Now. 

"This little cunny is soaking. I don't even have to prepare you," he growled, shoving a long finger up into you without hesitation.

You might have peaked from that alone if he'd kept his digit inside you. If he pumped it. If he added a second. But, no, the prince did neither. When he pulled it from you he instantly brought it to his mouth and smeared your slick across his tongue. He smirked and you were sure you'd never been so desperate in your life.

Once again he gripped the sides of your arms and pushed you down into the old used mattress. He maneuvered behind you with ease. True to his word he didn't have to prepare you so he didn't. The young dragon prince guided himself right to your dripping center and eased forward. 

You arched deeper beneath him, supporting yourself on your knees while propping your ass up as much as you could. The stretch your body yielded to his sizable intrusion was glorious. You moaned, barely able to bite it back as he buried all of his rigid inches into your core. When he pulled back to snap his hips into you, you cried out his name.

"Be a good girl and shut up. Unless you want everyone in this inn to know what's going on in here," he said huskily behind you, the tremble in his voice betraying his outwardly restraint.

You tried to be quiet. You really did. But his hand holding the hair at the nape of your neck, and the lewd slaps of your smacking skin, and the pant of his breaths, had you wild with bliss and excitement. "So good… fuck! Aemond…! S-so good," you whimpered, body becoming lighter by the second.

The half babbled praises from your pretty mouth had the prince soaring. He gripped harshly onto one of your hips while the fingers of the other snaked beneath your pelvis to work your clit. "Wanna eat this pretty cunt 'til you're crying, too. Will you let me?"

"Please! Yes, yes, yes please," you answered as if in prayer.

His pace quickened, the angle of his strokes hitting you deep and hard, cockhead dragging and battering against that wonderful patch of nerves inside your walls. Leaning forward, his silken hair tickled your back. He bit into your shoulder, harshly drawing your flesh between his teeth so he could mark you.

You squirmed beneath him. Gasping, you basked in the sharp sensation of his teeth. It was the final thing you needed to lose yourself to the euphoria.

"Give it to me," Aemond growled in your ear. "Give your Prince your pleasure. Squeeze my cock like the little whore you are."

You did.

He fucked you through it, chasing his own high all the while. When you became too loud he turned your face into the mattress to muffle your noises. It helped. It also made all those sounds all the sweeter. For Aemond, it was the final thing he needed to lose himself as well. With a groan from deep within his chest, he pulled out of you at the last second and released his spend all over your back. It shone upon your skin. He couldn't help but admire it and he had half a mind to make you sleep with it on your back; marking you with his teeth and scent alike.

Slowly, you both came down from the natural high of orgasm. That cloth you brought in earlier was put to good use. 

"I don't mind that the bed is so small, now," you said as you both got comfortable beneath the blanket. Laying on your sides seemed the best way; him, the big spoon.

"Me either," he replied, a grin audible in his voice.

You found yourself no longer caring about the state of his arm. Not with the way it laid over your waist and rested up between your breasts. He held you against him.

Sleep came easy. 

When you woke up to Aemond's morning-stiff cock against your back you knew you had to find a reason to share a room with him for every night of the journey.

He would make it happen, he told himself, as he drew a lovely climax from you with his mouth before burying himself into you once again. All, before dawn cracked over the horizon.

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

Masterlist

To be added or removed from the taglist, please let me know!

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @targaryenbrainrot @ruby-dragon @bloodwyrmcaraxes @chompchompluke @fan-goddess

Aemond taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @bellaisasleep @aemondsblog @khaleesihel @sirenofavalon @sahvlren @doublesparrows @aemonds-fire @nikstrange @abbyandizzysmum @babyaemond @lost-and-founds @castellomargot @okfashionista @avidreader73

[edenmemes]

house of the dragon s2 starters

❝ there is a chill in the air. summer is well and truly through. ❞ ❝ it’s alright. there’s no reason to be nervous. ❞ ❝ i’ve little patience for the self-important, and even less for flatterers. ❞ ❝ you think me some kind of monster. ❞ ❝ it is my fault, i think, that you have forgotten to fear me. ❞ ❝ do you think simply wearing the crown imbues you with wisdom? ❞ ❝ i have been, at times, unkind but never untrue. ❞ ❝ mark my words, this is a black omen. ❞ ❝ it is your way, is it not? when something does not please you, you run. ❞ ❝ if i may seem so bold…you have not seemed yourself of late. ❞ ❝ i have come to see if we may uncover some path towards peace. ❞ ❝ i do not know if i trust you. and i sense there is danger in you yet. ❞ ❝ i wonder, do you have a moment for a quiet word? ❞ ❝ now i have seen your heart only belongs to you. ❞ ❝ it was worth the risk, no matter the outcome. ❞ ❝ some of us must serve in smaller ways…even if they are not what we would choose for ourselves. ❞ ❝ fuck dignity. i want revenge. ❞ ❝ you are not the player, but a piece on the board. ❞ ❝ is there no honor left in this world? ❞ ❝ stop wasting your life waiting for something that’ll never come. ❞ ❝ perhaps those who strive for the crown are the least suited to wear it. ❞ ❝ i find myself wondering…do we pursue the same end? ❞ ❝ and how would you define ‘victory’? ❞ ❝ once you get to know me, you’ll find i’m not so bad. ❞ ❝ thought you’d be happy. or at least less morose. ❞ ❝ i can sit still no longer. i must act. ❞ ❝ you struggle to see there’s an anger that blinds you. ❞ ❝ you must accept the path to victory now is one of violence. ❞ ❝ you only blame me because your true enemies are out of reach. ❞ ❝ there are many pieces at play here…some of which you can’t yet see. ❞ ❝ you will have all the vengeance you seek, but you must keep a grip on your impulses. ❞ ❝ which would you prefer? to be loved or feared? ❞ ❝ i don’t know what to think of you. i don’t know what you are, or who it is you serve. ❞ ❝ well, the gods favor the bold. ❞ ❝ you’ve thrown it away. after all i’ve done for you. ❞ ❝ what if the hand that’s done it is not to be blamed? ❞ ❝ the desire to kill and burn takes hold and reason is forgotten. ❞ ❝ the gods punish us. they punish me. ❞ ❝ the path i walk has never been trod. ❞ ❝ well…no use wondering what might have been. ❞ ❝ tales take on a life of their own…like weeds. ❞ ❝ this is not the time for blind accusations. ❞ ❝ hm, you wish to be rewarded. ❞ ❝ they will underestimate you. and this will be your advantage. ❞ ❝ i hope you do not confuse mercy with pliancy. ❞ ❝ there is no war so hateful to the gods as a war between kin. ❞ ❝ i’ve never trusted you, wholly…much though i wished to, willed myself to. ❞ ❝ you can’t possibly still be angry about this. ❞ ❝ boldness is one thing, but overconfidence… ❞ ❝ this world is cold and cruel, and there are few in it who are steadfast. you, i think, are steadfast. ❞ ❝ do not coddle me. grant me at least that dignity. ❞ ❝ history will paint you a villain. ❞ ❝ do you cling, even now, to what you think you lost? ❞ ❝ a sense of humor would do you good. ❞ ❝ if the gods call me to greater things, who am i to refuse them? ❞ ❝ you have done something i feared impossible. ❞ ❝ i’m not entirely sure we can declare this a victory. ❞ ❝ you should’ve been at my side. ❞ ❝ i see all your great adventures have done nothing for your looks. ❞ ❝ a jest. one you may regret as you’re supping alone tonight. ❞ ❝ soon they will not even remember what it was that began the war in the first place. ❞ ❝ i don’t need their love. i need their swords. ❞ ❝ perhaps all men are corrupt…and true honor is a mist that melts in the morning. ❞ ❝ let us put all the old unpleasantness behind us. ❞ ❝ are you perhaps the culprit who has been tampering with my peace? ❞ ❝ every man has a weakness. ❞ ❝ everything i’ve given you, you’ve thrown back in my face. ❞ ❝ oh, take heart. you’ve already written yourself into legend. ❞ ❝ you wish to wash your hands of what you yourself set in motion. ❞

❝ war is coming to the whole of the realm. ❞ ❝ you are a strange kind of woman. ❞ ❝ there are those that have mistaken my caution for weakness. let that be their undoing. ❞ ❝ i think you used my words as an excuse to take your own revenge…to indulge the darkness you keep sheathed within you like a blade. ❞ ❝ i came here to raise swords, not corpses. ❞ ❝ i cannot blame anyone for doing what i myself would do if i could. ❞ ❝ we cannot all hide in our castles waiting for war to come to us. ❞ ❝ call it what you will…i call it war. ❞ ❝ have the indignities of your childhood not yet sufficiently been avenged? ❞ ❝ you mustn’t be shaken from this. ❞ ❝ is this an order or a request? ❞ ❝ and they will pay for this. ❞ ❝ i will not be thought weak. ❞ ❝ i mistrust this silence. ❞ ❝ oh, you make an art of provoking me. ❞

[gofishygo]

i know this is pretty niche in terms of topic, but i just want a strings orchestra conductor! john price n first chair violinist! reader.. (definitions below bottom banner)

price of the burningham royal string orchestra has the unfortunate habit of losing his first chair.

his first victim was johnny mactavish- an ex military- just like him. sharp mouthed and witty, with an obnoxious mohawk that the man had sworn he would tear right off of his head. but what had stuck out to him the most was his passion for his arts running far less silently than price's had, even in the old days from before he had started conducting. but after an incident dug out from his sas days had left him half deaf, with a starburst shot on the side of his head and bad blood to be cleaned, he had bid farewell to soap.

and next in line was kyle garrick, who had shared a desk with johnny. unlike soap, who was sharp, loud, a serenade written in baroque times, kyle was much more snide with his work. charming, and gentle, in all the right ways- he'd guided you to your desk with a gentle hand on the small of your back in your early days- but as price's successor, had coined his conductor's ability to lay a heavy hand, a sharp look when needed. but kyle, he has his own fatal flaw; he often finds himself entangled in brilliant melodies, lost in his own interpretation of every piece of repertoire. and soon, that leads him to conducting an orchestra of his own, taking on the studies of a musician like price had, and leaving the first chair cold.

but unlike other fleeting faces, johnny and kyle only fill out two of the four he'd bothered to remember. because he remembers bringing out a hand to first cellist simon for a few months since kyle's transfer, the shadow and backbone of his orchestra.

and he also remembers you.

you, with your pretty face and nervous expression as you had ducked your ways through the chairs and stands in your first days as a violinist under the burningham's string orchestra- and the sparks that had flickered behind doe eyes. even then, you had always had some sort of bratty rebuttal hidden under the tonal qualities of your violin- the way you would glare at him with quiet concern when he would slip marlboro cigarette between his lips in the small breaks during rehearsals, how you would look up at him and promptly play your own, quieter interpretation of the repertoire you gave him. your silent determination- it takes up space in the sounds of his own viola, fills the gaps of what he has longed for during lonely nights. it is your quiet, ingenious spark, and the wisdom behind your eyes that makes him offer you the first chair with a firm tap of your shoulder after rehearsal, the quiet liverpool drawl of his voice inviting you to his office for a chat. it is not the sparkle in your eyes when you focus, the fluster that you try and fail to hide when he attempts conversation with you, how perfectly he imagines your face would fit in the palms of his hands. it is not that at all, he thinks, he lies.

but behind the closed doors of his own office, whatever bubbles in his chest can no longer be fought off by the low hum of whiskey or the pleasant fuzz of tobacco in his veins with you- such a lovely songbird- trapped in his cage. and he simply cannot help it, with the melodies that escape your lips in between his kisses.

so now, you finally sit in the first chair that he knows you have worked so hard to deserve- and you also lay in the arms of the man who has managed to entangle you- wholly, truly, melodically.

first chair- usually, first chair in violin 1 is considered a very prestigious seat in any string orchestra. they act as musical leaders, tune the orchestra, and work very closely with the conductor. them, and the conductor (and guest of honor), usually take bows at the end of a performance.

conductor- a person who directs an orchestra. i dont know what else to say girl

*a strings orchestra will usually consist of instruments: violin, viola, cello, and double/alto bass.

[starry-bi-sky]

I'm slowly becoming obsessed with the childhood friends au and it's mostly bc of something you said in the tags of an ask lol. you mentioned that they weren't soulmates they were something better. that they were two balls of yarn they batted around until they were intertwined, that they chose and continue to choose to be as close as two souls can be.

it's so poetic, the idea that fate has nothing to do with it. they looked at each other and said this is it, that's the one. It makes me think of so many different quotes but here's just a few. Hozier "lay me gently in the cold dark earth, no grave can hold my body I'll crawl home to her (him)" or like patroclus saying that if Achilles were to die that "all things soft and beautiful would be buried with him" and poor Danny grieving so long and so hard because "what is grief if not love perserving?" when you're in love with someone, that person is the lighthouse of your universe and to lose them is to be thrown to a tempestuous sea.

and thinking of their reunion makes me feel a little crazy too cause I see what you've been plotting and it just makes me think of how their relationship is going to be at first. like here's a person that you love so deeply and it's been so long since you've seen them and you've both changed since. will they click back together seemingly effortlessly? attached at the hip for a bit because they're both/or one is scared of being separated again? or will there be some friction for a while while they try to realign their pieces to fit together, to figure out what's different and what's practically the same? "you are a language I am no longer fluent in but still remember how to read"

sorry for rambling, I love them your honor.

🫵 DONT YOU DARE APOLOGIZE FOR RAMBLING I LOVE GETTING RAMBLING ASKS. AND SAME.

There was this one sound on tiktok that I heard that reminded me of them, and I just went and found it, and it goes: "I would recognize you in another lifetime entirely in different bodies, different times, and i would love you in all of this. Until the very last star in the sky burnt out into oblivion." and the first time i heard it i literally thought "this is CFAU Danny and Jason"

AND YEAH THEY JUST. I love devoted characters, i love when characters are so deeply devoted and loyal to each other its like you can't imagine them being anywhere else but at each other's side. That wasn't wholly my intent when I first came up with CFAU last fall, but god I am not complaining about how it turned out. My favorite part of the chapter 1 rewrite is making sure Danny's devotion to Jason was reciprocal.

god those quotes. they're so accurate too. yeah. i thought about this au once in the context of a soulmate au, and just couldn't get behind it. It made their whole dynamic felt cheapened, like of course they're soulmates; it was destined. When no, it wasn't. They made it that way.

(If the two of them were somehow transported to a universe with soulmate marks, they would not have matching symbols. That's okay, Danny and Jason don't need them to be. They'd pick up a tattoo gun or a pen and make their own. They wouldn't call it a soulmate mark, just a them mark.)

("Why should I share my soul with some schmuck I don't know? I want to share my soul with you.")

yeah. their reunion is. ! about as exactly as intense as it needs to be :]. They've both changed so much, and they're both scared of being separated again. Jason purposely stayed away from Amity because he knew he couldn't keep away if he didn't. Being back together again is like having a piece of them returned.

SPEAKING OF QUOTES. Here's one:

I don't believe in the death that you're bringing The reason I'm living is you Wherever you go That's where I'll be Even if death tags along, I don't mind It's still you and me I'll never leave you alone

"Death's At My Door" - The Outsiders Musical

[kairiscorner]

looks like someone put a pause on the grumpiness ; )

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

miguel x grumpy reader pt. 2

(part 1)

surprisingly, you were quite calm for the past few days. you seldom got annoyed at everyone, in fact, you seemed a little nicer. everyone was more horrified of you being nicer than usual than the classic, snappy image of you that they were so used to seeing.

you had a smile on more often, it unsettled a lot of people, but when they found out you were genuinely happier, they couldn't have been any more relieved. they didn't know what changed in you that you were suddenly a more friendly, more approachable person than before, but they didn't need to know.

miguel, of course, was very aware of what changed; and he was falling for that version of you as each and every day passed by.

behind closed doors, you were a goofy, beautifully emotional mess in front of miguel. you would change your expression and demeanor on the dime when it was necessary, can't have everyone think you didn't care about work anymore; but you liked letting loose every once in a while, especially when it came to the man who, once feared you greatly, now loves you wholly.

you two tried to keep your little "companionship" under wraps, sometimes some random spider person would catch you two together and think that you two would snap each other's necks off, but no, you two would just talk. and smile at each other. that was a scarier sight, so they'd just walk or swing off and pretend they saw nothing, it wasn't their business, anyway.

"feels good being feared, huh?" miguel asked you with a chuckle as he looked into your eyes, taking in how breathtaking you look, right in front of him; flashing him the sweetest smile he'd ever be treated to in his entire life. "you like being respected like the scary little spider you are?" he teased as he ran a hand through your hair, his smile widening all the while as he heard you giggle.

"it is quite... fun to have them run away or straighten up when i enter the room. it used to be offensive, but i wear the impressions they have of me as badges of honor." you expressed with exaltation, kind of a little too proud that you were well respected, at least in your perspective, at HQ. you loved being a leader, you hated it when others griped or disobeyed your orders, let alone someone else tell you what to do; and you took no nonsense none of the time.

recently, you were more lenient with your leading style--you gave the spider people under your leadership some breathing room, gave them more breaks, you barked less orders at them. you always gave constructive criticism and proper advice on how to wrap up missions neatly; you just always struggled with delivery, you weren't exactly the best people person, but you had a big heart, even if you kept it hidden away from many eyes.

miguel sighed in contentment as he leaned closer towards you, a small pink hue dashing his cheeks. "i do seem to find myself a little attracted to someone who can keep up with my style of leadership. someone who knows what they want and won't back down until they get it just the way they want it." he muttered as you felt his breath hot against your face, your noses nearly brushing over each others, which sent a shock up your spine, causing you to sit up straighter, and to blush a deep red shade.

"i know you're smitten with me, o'hara, i just didn't think you'd be, what was the term? ah, masochi-" you were cut off as he put a finger on your lips, laughing to himself softly. "i'm just simply admiring a strong, capable, scary comrade." he said as he rubbed the tip of his finger over your soft lips.

you chuckled back. "that tickles." you commented as his finger rested on your lower lip. before either of you could do anything else, lyla appeared in between the two of you, looking smug and snarky as usual.

"hey lovebirds, anyway, stop being like a married couple for a minute and check this out." she said as she pulled up a slideshow of pictures of another universe your most recent team was sent to. they were tied up in their own webs and the villain was causing mass destruction, civilians running away every which way, it was utter madness.

miguel sighed and cursed under his breath in spanish as the your bottom eyelid twitched as you continued smiling as if nothing were wrong.

"this is what i get for being too nice, apparently." you grumble as you headed off to get your equipment. but before you could even go, miguel gently grabbed hold of your wrist, looking at you with soft eyes. "regardless of what trouble they get in, or how much destruction is out there... you're always a great leader. it wasn't your fault for being more lenient, they should've been more responsible and organized. okay? you're doing amazing already as you are, querida." he said as he tucked a lock of stray hair behind your ear, caressing your cheek as his palm found its way down your face.

you smiled at his comforting words, it took your anger away by a smidge and reassured you a whole lot more than you expected it to. "okay. thank you, miggy." you thanked him as you gave him a peck on the cheek and grinned as you walked off to get your equipment, leaving in your wake a flustered mess of miguel.

he leaned against his desk and grinned widely, lyla taking pictures of his astonished self as he takes in the softness of your lips, the sweetness and reality of your kiss on his cheek.

you gave your team a stern and firm talking-to about following protocol, the plan, and not straying away from the team to please their own ego. you did some screaming, but they weren't complaining; they didn't do as you said, and they got themselves tangled up in that mess.

but as you were chewing them out, miguel came by and petrified every single one of them with his signature, cold gaze. "think they learned their lesson?" he asked you with his hands on his hips as he peered at you. "i'm hoping they did." you said as you looked at him with your arms crossed on your chest.

after a few seconds of you two playing the angry parents card, you and miguel cracked into smiling faces and laughed a little at how scary you were both being in front of these guys. you dismissed them with a warning, and you sighed.

"you did a great job paralyzing them with your gaze, grumpy mcgrumpface." you teased miguel as he looked at you with a grin. "not as much as how you were raising your voice to get your point across, the scary grumpspider." he retorted playfully as he moved closer to you, facing you and taking in all your beauty.

"i love you." he mutters as you mutter an 'i love you, too' back at him. he closed the distance between you two with a soft kiss, it was simple, it was sweet, it was short; but he told you everything he felt, had ever felt, and will ever feel in that brief kiss he planted on your lovely lips.

"can't believe grumpy mcgrumpface has such good kissing skills." you remarked as you ran your finger over your lips. he chuckled as he cupped your face in his hands. "wanna see how far i can go with those skills, oh scary grumpspider?"

a/n: this was supposed to be angst, but this is your canon event with him <333

tags !! @miguelswifey04

[angel-of-the-moons]

Kuai Liang/Harumi x fem reader who is really dense and doesn’t realize the two are attracted to her. So dense the two of them have to spell it out for her cause no amount of flirting is getting through her head.

sfw or nsfw I really don’t care.

NONNY I ACTUALLY LOVE THIS WE NEED SOME HARUMI CONTENT! Also enjoy my totally original and not punny at all title

Pyromance

Kuai Liang (Scorpion) x Harumi Shirai x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: None, fluffy stuff, some flirting, reader being oblivious

A/N: Given that there's only a small tidbit of info on Harumi in Liu Kang's timeline, I'm going off of what little is mentioned in-game and on Wikipedia. Also deadass I want a mandarin duck so fucking bad.

🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️

You weren't sure why you were born the way that you were. But when a man with glowing eyes showed up at your crappy little cabin in the mountains, saying he was a god? Yeah, only you would have that kind of interaction.

You didn't believe him until he displayed his powers with fire and explained to you that your powers were only a danger to you.

Yes, powers. You had something called pyromancy, you could summon flames or heat things with your very mind and hands.

So when this "Liu Kang" told you about a clan in Japan called the Shirai Ryu? And that they would welcome you with open arms? You were hesitant to accept.

On one hand, your powers were dangerous, and if you continued to slip up you'd wind up burning your own cabin down, cause a wildfire or... hurt someone. That last one was your greatest fear.

But on the other hand? You'd never even been outside Montana. And Liu Kang wanted you to fly across the world to friggin' Japan? The thought scared you shitless.

You gave him your word that you would think it over for two days. Liu Kang offered to bring someone to you to explain how the clan worked, and you accepted the offer. Perhaps hearing from someone from there would help your decision along.

Liu Kang returned in a ball of fire, alongside him was a woman dressed in a gold and crimson kimono, her long, silky black hair hanging down past her shoulders, twin katanas slung from her obi.

This was Harumi Shirai, for whom the clan was named. Her husband, the Grandmaster of their clan, Kuai Liang was indisposed with new recruits, as was his younger brother Tomas.

She stayed with you, explaining the nuances of their clan and how open-minded they were to your situation. They offered to allow you to bring your comforts (which were admittedly few. You were a bit of a recluse out of necessity due to your powers.) to their compound if you accepted.

She was a beautiful woman, and her words and voice put your nerves at ease.

Of course, two days later. You accepted.

You found yourself in a bit of a culture shock, certainly. But true to Harumi's word, the Shirai Ryu were accepting of you in a way you never anticipated. Training with Kuai Liang allowed you to feel... normal. You'd never felt normal a day in your life. It was nice, to feel so in-place where you always were an enigma before.

Harumi and Kuai were very warm to you (pun intended!) as time went on and your skills flourished. You weren't one for combat, but you excelled in using your powers for defensive stances. When Harumi began teaching you to use her katanas (such an honor) she and Kuai were proud and impressed you used your flames now so effortlessly to ignite the blades without melting it.

To congratulate your progress, they had a custom blade made for you. You were honored that they accepted you so wholly and you found yourself wondering if you truly wanted to return to rural Montana after learning of all of the wonders you'd been blind to before.

What you never really realized though, was that Harumi and Kuai would often take time to spend with you, speak with you about things not related to the clan or your training.

Kuai would ask about your life, your hobbies. When you admitted you liked flowers, he gifted you two potted spider lilies.

Their alien appearance immediately enamored you, as you'd never seen them before, their bright scarlet colors catching the eye and brightening up your room.

And of course, with Harumi... She would join you in the baths. In Japan it was fairly common of course, just not as traditional as what was built in the Shirai Ryu compound.

You were never one for insecurities and Harumi loved that about you. In the baths you would talk about anything that would come to mind, and she would often find herself drawn to your hair, of all things. She adored touching it and putting the shampoo and conditioners in it for you, and combing it out. The color and feel of it beneath her fingers quickly became a favorite.

But despite all of this you were completely, frustratingly and blissfully unaware that Harumi and Kuai Liang were in fact romantically interested in you. Their little gestures were so obvious, it even had Tomas facepalming when nobody was looking because of how painful it was to watch you not even recognize their obvious intent to court you.

It became a topic of hushed gossip and side-betting amongst the clan, wondering who would crack first, or when--if ever--you realized what they were doing.

🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️

"I swear... She's so sweet... but so dense!" Harumi laughed, the back of her hand over her forehead as she laid on their bed.

Kuai Liang shook his head with a smile as he undid his robes, leaving his torso bare as he looked at his wife. He shared her humorous exasperation with your oblivious nature, but still found it endearing.

Kuai knelt on the bed and leaned over Harumi, giving her a soft kiss to her lips as she sunk her fingers in his dark hair, tugging it free of its tie; allowing the dark strands to fall around his face as he smiled down at her.

"Perhaps it is time we drop the subtlety, my love." Kuai said softly, resting on his elbow as he looked down at Harumi.

"Do you think we should?" She hummed, trailing her knuckles across his jawline, reaching up with her fingertips to gently trace the scar going down his face.

"I don't see why not. Otherwise we will be performing this dance for some time." He grinned.

"Kuai, what if she isn't interested?" Harumi sighed sadly, her brows raising in concern.

"Then we respect her wishes and accept her friendship instead. I would be glad for her companionship either way." He said simply.

Harumi's beautiful, Cupid's bow lips curled into a smile.

"You're right. Either way, having her close is a blessing. One we will accept no matter the context. We can speak with her in the morning."

🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️

You were standing beneath the sakura and plum blossom trees surrounding the sizeable pond in the compound. It was your favorite spot to be because it had the least traffic and the small bridge going over it was perfect for watching the koi as they danced beneath the water.

But your favorite place to sit was beneath the trees near the shoreline. Due mostly in part to the small flock of Mandarin ducks that called the compound home, the little feathery critters took a shine to you, especially after you nursed one of their flock back to health when her poor little leg got broken.

That and, well. They knew you had grapes at the ready, plus a small container of oats you'd feed them out of your hand.

The Mandarin ducks were the most gorgeous you'd ever seen; the males' colors were like a silky orchestra of hues and cute little plumages that admittedly looked a tad silly, but still looked beautiful. The females were lacking in the colors the males had, but you adored their little spots and speckles.

Oftentimes, you'd wind up with one of the younger males cuddled comfortably in your lap, tucking himself under his wings to nap on the silk of your robes while you stroked his feathers.

And it was here that Harumi and Kuai Liang found you, sitting beneath the trees, blossoms that had been shaken loose by the breeze falling around you like a beautiful rain as you fed the ducks from your palm, laughing to yourself as their little bills tickled your hand.

They stood there, merely watching for a few moments until Kuai nudged Harumi on, and they slowly made their way to you as a young female duck hopped into your lap, trying to snitch some extra snacks from you.

Their footsteps were light, to avoid frightening your feathery little companions as they closed on you.

Harumi spoke your name softly and you looked up with an abashed smile. "Oh! I would get up, but..." You looked done at the female water fowl in your lap, as she snuggled down, her tail feathers wiggling contentedly.

Kuai couldn't help but chuckle as he and Harumi sat next to you. The little birds seemed so fond of you. It was cute.

He slowly reached out to try and pet the female in your lap, but she puffed up and made a rather angry noise that plainly said "back off", which made you and Harumi giggle.

"It would seem your charm does not work on all women, my love." Harumi smirked.

"Yes, yes, that is painfully obvious." Kuai replied with a smile, shaking his head as the duck turned back around in your lap, accepting your soothing pets to her feathers.

"Is something the matter?" You ask them curiously.

Harumi and Kuai Liang exchange a long, silent glance which slightly concerns you.

"Kuai and I discussed something last night." Harumi told you.

"Okay..."

"And we both decided to ask you something." Kuai continues. "You understand the things we do for you? Not the training, but the smaller things."

"Like... My sword? And the flowers?" You say, your brows furrowing slowly.

"Yes." Harumi chuckles. "Do you understand why we did those things for you?"

You tilt your head. "To... be... nice?"

Harumi and Kuai chuckle together, grinning at one another at how sweetly oblivious you were. They look back at you and Kuai talks. "And you don't have any other inclination, dear? At all?"

Other inclination? What could--did he just call you dear? What could he be talking...

Your eyes get big and you cover your mouth in sheer horror, your face flushing in embarrassment as you awkwardly look away.

"Oh."

Harumi giggles and has to cover her mouth and cough to chase it away, Kuai Liang merely shakes his head and chuckles softly.

"We've been trying to court you. You're a wonderful person, an amazing woman." Harumi says, giving you a soft look. "We've both been rather... Smitten with you, as of late. We'd hoped you'd realize what our intentions were on your own, but..."

You cover your face and make an embarrassed squeak. "Oh, my god..."

"However." Kuai Liang said, holding his hands up. "We both agreed last night that if you do not reciprocate, we will still gladly accept your friendship."

Your hands drop and you look at them, the surprise evident on your face as you watch Harumi smile at you, her hand slipping into Kuai's.

"We hold nothing but respect for whatever decision you shall make." She told you.

You couldn't believe it. It just seemed so unreal..so unreal that these two amazingly strong, wonderful, beautiful people took a look at you and decided that they wanted you?

You. Of all the people they could possibly pick? A little country bumpkin from Montana?

You look down, petting your little duck friend as she contentedly snuggled you, a couple of her flock-mates snuggling your left thigh.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

"...I... I'm open to trying?" You finally say, giving them a shy smile.

Harumi and Kuai's tense postures dropped as they both smiled widely, and Harumi leaned in to kiss your cheek happily.

"We will do our best to prove everything we mean to you." She swears.

Kuai Liang moves towards you and leans in to do the same, his hand brushing your cheek. "We will do everything--"

He was cut off by the female duck in your lap turning around, her tail wiggling and her feathers fluffing up as she opens her mouth and makes more angry noises, making Kuai lean away from you before she is angered any further.

"Ah... The only woman you cannot charm!" Harumi teased as the two of you broke out laughing; whilst Kuai was still unable to give you the small display of affection his wife had given you, all because of the feathered menace that took residence in your comfy lap.

He merely glared at the offensive little bird in your lap as she snuggled back down, staring Kuai back right in the eye as if to say "try me".

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

(Somewhat disorganized thoughts to follow…)

So I’m sitting here thinking about Good Omens, as usual. And I’m wondering. What if Aziraphale hadn’t gone to chat with the Metatron?

Because it’s easy to say “awww yisss there would have been love confessions and kisses and everything would be better.”

But would it?

Because as the great Bildad the Shuhite said, “Nothing has to change.”

If there’s anything this 6000-year slow-burn has shown us, these two are content to remain… not exactly the same, but changing in glacially slow ways (and also not really content, but they’ll fucking do it anyway).

I think watching Gabriel and Beelzebub go off together got them both to realize that things could be different. But would that be enough to get them talking? Or would they have just gone off to their alcoholic breakfast, made a few jokes about whatever the hell’s just happened, then wind up back at the shop drunkenly talking about dolphins and bird space ships again, the needle on their relationship barely moved? And stay that way until the Second Coming finally arrived to shake things up?

Because it’s not a question, really, of them realizing something or revealing something. They both know.

Crowley knows what he wants, but he’d rather spend the next thousand years scowling from the sidelines and watching his angel be a happy idiot than actually put his feelings into words.

And Aziraphale—well, he has ideas, more than we give him credit for, he isn’t wholly oblivious, but his ideas are happy little dream worlds he can play out in his mind. He’s waiting for a better deal—not better than Crowley, obviously, but better than the precarious balance they currently exist in. A perfect shiny happy ending where everything is Good and Nice. And he’s willing to wait basically forever, just thinking about how nice it will be when it happens.

They need nudges. They need excuses. Especially Aziraphale. He sets up this whole ball for Nina and Maggie (partially) so he can ask Crowley to dance for the first time, but he’s there every day! You can just ask him to dance any time! He still denies having a “special” person to amnesia Gabriel. He doesn’t remember anything! Literally everyone in Heaven and Hell and also Earth think you’re an item now anyway! Just say the words!

The nudge for him was the Metatron’s offer. Taking charge of Heaven. Crowley at his side. They can make the Good guys truly Good. No one to question whether they belonged together. Happy ending.

Crowley’s nudge, of course, was Nina and Maggie telling him to goddamn say something. And I don’t think any of them realize it, but that had to be his conversation. If the two ladies had come over and talked to Aziraphale the same way (solo), he’d throw all his defenses back up and that would have been the end of it. If they’d talked to angel and demon together, well. These two are idiots. Aziraphale and Crowley would have refused to take the conversation seriously, talked circles around their guests, and left for their breakfast, laughing together over those humans and their ideas.

So for Crowley to get his nudge, he had to be alone when they visited, and for that to happen, Aziraphale had to go have his talk with the Metatron. Aziraphale had to get a perfect enough option to overcome his anxiety, and for that he needed his chat.

Now, am I saying that without the Metatron’s interference they never ever would have moved forward? Maybe. They’re complete idiots, your honor.

Maybe not, though. As I said, they just watched another angel and demon go off together. Would that be enough for Crowley to realize that, hey, actual communication sometimes has good results? Would that be close enough to a perfect ending to assuage Aziraphale’s fears?

I don’t know if we can say for sure. But I’ve been trying to play out that last scene in the bookshop differently to find where the path to the happy ending was, and I think this is the answer. Aziraphale needed to not go to the Metatron at all. They needed to be on their way before Nina and Maggie decided to visit. And then… somewhere in the talking and drinking that followed, one of them would have to take a risk.

And like, have you met these two? They’d be dooooooomed…