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#i have no more questions your honor
crawley-fell · 5 months
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So i've noticed that in between this S1Ep1 scene at the Ritz
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And this scene in the bookshop
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Crowley, in the 6 hours that have passed (as told to us by God), has completely lost his curls
Therefore I have deduced that, perhaps somewhere between wine bottle 2 and 3, Crowley decided it would be a fun for Aziraphale to straighten his hair :)
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Turtleneck Gremlin WYB
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st4rstudent · 4 months
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So. I have a BURNING question.
Are Mac and Winn your ocs? I know theyre in the Canon Lore, but did you make them and put them there?? Is this a dumb question? You're like, the Mac and Winn Authority. It just always made sense to me that they'd be YOUR toons, but now that I think about it, I've never seen anything implicitly stating that you made them...
So, did you?? Make them?
(No matter if you made them or not, i LOVE the comics you make about these guys. Youve really endeared them to me.)
very sorry to disappoint, but they're not! I didn't have anything to do with their creation or writing, they're canonical ttcc toons! I'm just a big fan of them, although I have captured them in a giant net like this
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net-capturing aside, im very happy to hear I've endeared you more towards them! I like them a lot . looks at you with giant sparkly eyes
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pollyna · 2 years
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sooo your "mav asks ice to call him when he thinks it's time" post absolutely KILLED me, especially with the not actually unrequited love tags, please tell about their not actually unrequited feelings in this scenario (aka basically canon)
Hi anon🐊, originally that tag wasn't going to be there but two hours after writing the post I realised half of the tags weren't actually there and the not actually unrequited felt appropriate.
(The post anon is talking about: here.)
Canon Icemav is the definition of almost, in my poor head: they are enemies, then they work together and fall in love, and then thirty-six years have passed and Iceman is dying and Mav is going to be alone again. I wrote a post about Tom marrying Sarah and the reasons why, but Tumblr is stupid, so: it's a platonic marriage because Tom wants to become Admiral, Sarah wants to study but her father says no because you're a woman, and they meet outside a queer club in New York and marry three months later. ( found it!) She knows he's gay and in love with this man, whom he calls Mav with the sweetest of tones, and he knows she wouldn't want sex with anybody or would particularly miss all the shebang of falling in love. Mav doesn't know about the marriage, and when he comes back from deployment, everybody is talking about how pretty Kazansky's wife is, and it broke his heart in a million pieces because a) Ice didn't tell him he was getting married; b) Mav has finally mastered the courage to tell him he is in love with him. That time Mav sees Sarah but not Ice, and now Ice thinks Mav hates him and doesn't give him the time to explain or to properly introduce Sarah. They see each other a couple of times in the three following years until one night when Mav is back at their home and Sarah is there but not Tom, and this time Mav actually enters the house, and he's so confused because why two bedrooms? Why is she not wearing a ring? Sarah sits him down and explains the whole thing to him and even says fuck Thomas is so in love with you it's embarrassing sometimes. Mav stays at the house for the whole week while waiting for Tom to be back from deployment, but he doesn't because they need him out there for another week and Pete is shipped out for the rest of the year. They don't get the chance to talk. If the first time it was because of a 'fake' wife and the second was for work, maybe the universe doesn't really want them together. Not that he really believes it but then it happens a third and a fourth time, Mav is in a place, Ice is going to get to him and the plane broke, it's a storm, Ice&Slider's jet get shoot down just behind enemy lines and they never seriously talk. Or vice versa. When they finally see each other for more than three days straight, almost a decade has passed, Pete is with Penny again, and how can they talk about them when there isn't a them? Especially since he appears to be so serious this time with Penny, not thinking about marriage or a house, but still serious. Mav is serious enough that when Penny breaks up with him, Mav spends four days in Ice's bed commiserating and asking himself, Sarah, and Tom what he did wrong. He says, when they are both getting ready to bed, that loving you has never been this complicated or painful. Tom cuddles him extra strongly that night, and before he falls asleep, he even answer yeah, being in love with you never makes me sad.
The worst thing is that everybody knows they're in love with each other since back then, and Tom&Pete talk about it often enough to be considered that they have the conversation™️ but they don't move from there. Slider almost punches both of them in the face because they're actually dancing together in the middle of a club during a navy's night and Mav is begging Ice to not go this time and they're crying and kissing, but Ice leaves the morning after and Mav is making another Admiral pissed and they're both almost forty and it's painful to watch.
Mav is the first one to know about the cancer. Ice invites him out, a date, for a slice of cake in their favourite bakery, and drops the bomb. Mav almost chokes on the pie and takes all the leave he can for that year. Sell the house and move in with Tom and Sarah and he is there for every single treatment, visits, meds, insomnia and hair loss. He's there and hugs Ice as tight as he can because some nights it seems like he's already dead and Mav can't stand it again. He lost Goose and then Carole, not even five years ago, and now Ice? Not if he can do something. Mav is there for the operation and the scar, and Tom, who wants to die because someday the pain is so strong that not even morphine works. The recovery is slow, but his leave is ending and he has to go back out there. Tom let him go because he doesn't want to resent him for taking away his wings. They leave each other with murmured words and a see you soon, love. And it seems like things are finally taking the road they were always supposed to, until they aren't and Mav comes back with more nightmares and PTSD than he knows what to do with, and he almost disappears for an entire year. Maverick is back again before the cancer, and Ice is okay with it. It breaks his heart, but Maverick is going to therapy, and the only thing that matters is that he's going to be okay. They have time.
It's 2011 and Ice has almost three stars on his uniform, he survived cancer, and he was part of the team that worked to eliminate DADT. Sarah asks for divorce the day after because Tom deserves to be free and Sarah wants the same. For the first time in almost twenty years, they can just be. It's going to be okay, they're fine and Tom's hands shake a little when he calls Mav to know if they're going to spend his next leave together. Mav says he's going to stay where he is and nah, maybe they can see each other another time. 2011 becomes 2012 and with 2013 comes Bradley in the form of a very angry adult, screaming and demanding answers Ice can't give him, not the one he wanted. This time Tom goes to see Pete in some boom-fuck post in Sri Lanka and they spend almost another year together, but without really being together. It isn't the most happy of the years they spent in each other's presence because it's a constant fight about every single little thing, and nobody is talking about the two big elephants in the room that are getting bigger and bigger year after year. The day before Ice is called back, Mav says I love you and Tom answers, I love you too, Pete.
After that, years seem to accumulate without either of them realising it because they are calling, texting, and sharing each other's lives from different places in the world. 2015 becomes 2016 and before they realise it is December 2020, Ice passes out during a meeting. Sarah is at the hospital when he wakes up, and when the doctor says it's back, Ice doesn't know what to say. This time around, Tom waits to say a single word to Maverick because it's difficult to wrap his head around what is happening, let alone say it aloud. He has at some point because his voice is becoming less and less strong every day and he knows too well that the next time Mav is going to be around, he won't probably have the strength to say much. Sarah calls Pete, and the treatments start again, stronger than the first time and less and less effective. Pete is flying jets, making friends, going to therapy, spending weekends with them and trying to make the most of all the time they have. Every time Mav goes back to his house, Tom signs I love you to him, but Mav doesn't understand. It doesn't matter really, because Mav says it's back on his skin every time they hug, it doesn't say a letter but his lips move to form the word.
The last week of treatment doesn't work, and it's just another treatment that doesn't. Ice is tired, Mav is flying supersonic jets, and Admiral Cain calls to ask for advice on who to put to work to fly the mission. Ice puts together the whole squadron in a week and puts Mav as their teacher/leader. Admiral Simpson is going to hate him and Admiral Bates is going to laugh, but the kids have to get back. It's Thursday and Mav is in front of him, and Ice feels like it's going to be the last time they see each other and probably the last time in general. They're both crying when Mav leaves the room, and Icd signs another I love you to the man who walked right by his side for all these years. Mav asks him to call when the time is going to come, but Tom knows he would never ever do such a thing. He falls asleep, and Mav flies.
(Three weeks after the mission, Mav is repeating the movements he saw Ice do for a long time when Halo asks him to whom he's saying I love you. Mav has to bite the inside of his cheek to not wail all his pain in front of his Lieutenant.)
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windfighter · 1 year
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Trust
Prompt: ”Do you trust me?”
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Takuya stopped. Halted in the quest for food and turned towards Kouji. Kouji raised an eyebrow.
”...I have a question”, Takuya said.
It sounded important. Kouji put his hands into his pockets, kept his gaze towards Takuya. Takuya held a hand towards Kouji.
”Do you trust me?”
Kouji stared at Takuya’s hand. Trust. Something about the question made Kouji stop. Think. He didn’t distrust them. That was an important distiction. He never distrusted anyone, just knew that he needed to be able to handle himself. Take care of everything himself. Learn everything himself. But trust?
Trust was an active choice, Kouji realized. To stop always looking behind and believe someone else would do it for you. To trust you wouldn’t get attacked from behind to begin with. He took his hand out of his pocket.
Takuya expected him to say yes. They’d fought together, fought each other, argued, shared dinner. For Takuya, trust was probably already in there.
Did Takuya trust him?
Kouji’s hand trembled. He took a step back. Did he trust Takuya? What would it mean to trust Takuya? Takuya’s hand started falling, his eyes turned sadder for every milisecond Kouji hesitated.
Did he trust Takuya to have his back? (No, not really) Did he trust Takuya to do what’s righ? (Yeah, he did and the realization shocked him) Did he trust Takuya to not give up? (...yeah, Takuya seemed stupid enough to always keep trying)
Would he trust Takuya with his dog?
Kouji swallowed. Stared at Takuya. He would, he realized. He’d trust Takuya to take care of his dog if he needed a dog-sitter. He raised his hand, grabbed Takuya’s.
”I do.”
The sadness in Takuya’s eyes disappeared, the hesitation. He grinned, squeezed Kouji’s hand. Takuya’s handshake was firm. Kouji took a deep breath, hoped his trust wasn’t misplaced. His body trembled and he pulled his hand back.
”Just don’t touch me again”, he said and started walking.
Takuya laughed, followed him. Something in the air between them had shifted and Kouji wished he could explain what. But it felt calmer, more comfortable. Trust… He’d think more about it later. When they had found food and eaten and everyone was sleeping. When no one could interrupt his thoughts.
Takuya stopped again, pointed at a tree. Apples. Kouji nodded and without a word they both started running towards it.
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yakny · 10 months
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they are in my heart always ( ☆ ´⌓` ☆ )ブ♥
#wips#colored explorations‚ studies‚ and experiments#LN#THE FIRES ARE REACHING US#the north siblings#louie#agata#i know them being siblings is still my au but the way they interact in the actual game makes me fucking lose it. they're HILARIOUS 😭😭😭:#agata: *rallying the people into her Allied Army and giving a grim BUT emotional speech about protecting Harrod City until her last breath*#louie: *popping out from her crowd seemingly ''out of nowhere''‚ in a room i imagine is not so big* I HAVE A QUESTION.#agata‚ somehow still taken aback and surprised at seeing him: LOUIE?!?!?! why are YOU here?#louie: heard news about an alliance and wanted to join but before me and my comrades join you: . . .#how are you planning to treat the north kingdom's monarchy and the inactions of its current king?#agata: if the monarchy‚ who's supposed to protect its people‚ DOESN'T protect its people then FUCK THE MONARCHY! WE DO THE PROTECTING NOW!#louie‚ walking to stand by her: say no more‚ I'M IN. *turning to the alliance* EVERYONE! We can no longer trust the monarchy!#ASHDFJGKHLLADJSF!!!#who's doing it like them in this game??? WHO 😭😭😭?!?! also: what was he going to do if agata decided to still listen to the king‚ LEAVE???!#BOY‚ IF YOU DONT STOP OCCULTING VITAL INFORMATION FROM THE PUBLIC MASSES—! ashdfjgj#The LN game peaked with the absurdity of their characters. they're idiots‚ your honor... please let me dissect them 🫰🥺#(sorry. i have so many thoughts about them. this story hasn't even arrived to the english server. i got it from the chinese wiki.#because i doubt we will ever get agata's lifetime suit and at this point im tired of waiting 😔)
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neverendingford · 7 months
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#tag talk#tumblr university#I put my tumblr degree to good use again today. a kid at work talks a lot about exercise and said an offhand comment about fat people#the usual “why do fat people not control themselves better and eat less?” opinion. which like. he's a cool guy. curious and active and kind#so I did my best to not jump on it sjw-style and kind of go at it slowly but still explain that like. you can't just change your default#culturally we recognize that skinny people have genetics that predispose themselves to being thin.#but then when we (general culture) talk about fat people it's “why don't you exercise more and eat less?” “why don't you control yourself?”#there's a hypocritical shift in how people talk about it.#I was like bro.. I can sit around and do nothing all day and eat my normal amount and not gain weight. my whole family can.#so there's clearly something different between people who weigh 250lb and people who weigh 120lb.#anyway. he kinda nodded and mused over it and asked a few questions and like. idk. this is something I learned on tumblr so it was cool#I like sharing information I learned here. it changed how I view people and I'm honored to be able to make that change in other people#I've learnt to be kinder here and spreading it outside of the isolated tumblr bubble is very fulfilling. passing it forward yaknow?#anyway. I'm still mad about my speech impediment because I deadass still wish I could be a teacher in some way#like. I love teaching people things. evolving someone's ability to interact with information and ideas.#giving someone a set of tools and sitting back to see what they do with them. how they solve a problem. I love it.#and I just. ugh. I love the little moments when I get to teach something I've learned to someone else#OH OH OH! I saw a really good parent today! she brought her daughter up to the self checkout registers and I was like “can I help you?”#but the mom was like “no. I want her to learn how to be a big girl” and so they walked up to the register and the kid scanned her stuff and#and then navigated to the “pay now” button and paused and her mom was like “remember to take your time and read the screen” and the kid fou#found the “cash” button and then fed the five dollar bill in and got her receipt and change and. . that moment made me smile so fucking big#like.... the mom being like “take your time” and just.. being there to show her kid how to do an important life task. I wanted to cry.#I just. idk. stuff like that is beautiful. I love working with people so fucking much.#like. idk. I detach really easily so I don't always care about people and human suffering or all that stuff. but other times?#other times I'm both feet flat on the ground rooted into the heart of everything that makes us beautiful social creatures full of love#and it's so beautiful and I feel so fucking lucky to be allowed to watch that moment.#I just. all I can do is smile and hope that my eyes reflect the magic I just saw#also a hoard of small goth middle schoolers came through garden each with their own succulent. they were lead by an older teen.#it was just. idk. cool. funny. this little posse of piercings and bleached hair and nightmare before christmas merch and intense enby vibes#I always hope I represent a future to kids like that. big obvious scars. heavy queer vibes. and a life I'm obviously living.
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Hi- er, this is my first-ever writer's strike, how does one not cross a picket line in this context? I know how not to do it with things like Amazon and IRL strikes, but how does it apply to media/streaming?
Hi, this is a great question, because it allows me to write about the difference between honoring a picket line and a boycott. (This is reminding me of the labor history podcast project that's lain fallow in my drafts folder for some time now...) In its simplest formulation, the difference between a picket line and a boycott is that a picket line targets an employer at the point of production (which involves us as workers), whereas a boycott targets an employer at the point of consumption (which involves us as consumers).
So in the case of the WGA strike, this means that at any company that is being struck by the WGA - I've seen Netflix, Amazon, Apple, Disney, Warner Brothers Discovery, NBC, Paramount, and Sony mentioned, but there may be more (check the WGA website and social media for a comprehensive list) - you do not cross a picket line, whether physical or virtual. This means you do not take a meeting with them, even if its a pre-existing project, you do not take phone calls or texts or emails or Slacks from their executives, you do not pitch them on a spec script you've written, and most of all you do not answer any job application.
Because if this strike is like any strike since the dawn of time, you will see the employers put out ads for short-term contracts that will be very lucrative, generally above union scale - because what they're paying for in addition to your labor is you breaking the picket line and damaging the strike - to anyone willing to scab against their fellow workers. GIven that one of the main issues of the WGA are the proliferation of short-term "mini rooms" whereby employers are hiring teams of writers to work overtime for a very short period, to the point where they can only really do the basics (a series outline, some "broken stories," and some scripts) and then have the showrunner redo everything on their lonesome, while not paying writers long-term pay and benefits, I would imagine we're going to see a lot of scab contracts being offered for these mini rooms.
But for most of us, unless we're actively working as writers in Hollywood, most of that isn't going to be particularly relevant to our day-to-day working lives. If you're not a professional or aspiring Hollywood writer, the important thing to remember honoring the picket line doesn't mean the same thing as a boycott. WGA West hasn't called on anyone to stop going to the movies or watching tv/streaming or to cancel their streaming subscriptions or anything like that. If and when that happens, WGA will go to some lengths to publicize that ask - and you should absolutely honor it if you can - so there will be little in the way of ambiguity as to what's going on.
That being said, one of the things that has happened in the past in other strikes is that well-intentioned people get it into their heads to essentially declare wildcat (i.e, unofficial and unsanctioned) boycotts. This kind of stuff comes from a good place, someone wanting to do more to support the cause and wanting to avoid morally contaminating themselves by associating with a struck company, but it can have negative effects on the workers and their unions. Wildcat boycotts can harm workers by reducing back-end pay and benefits they get from shows if that stuff is tied to the show's performance, and wildcat boycotts can hurt unions by damaging negotiations with employers that may or may not be going on.
The important thing to remember with all of this is that the strike is about them, not us. Part of being a good ally is remembering to let the workers' voices be heard first and prioritizing being a good listener and following their lead, rather than prioritizing our feelings.
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foreverdolly · 3 months
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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part I 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』
summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.
warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. (needs to be edited, so please excuse any temporary errors!)
word count: 5.3k
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The ancient walls of Castle Caladan were a fortress, the long winding halls a labyrinth to those unfamiliar with its layout. You had tried feigning sleep when you had been made aware of the surprise guest’s arrival, a one “reverend mother”- as your mother referred to her. The cool air from the hallway nipped at your exposed arm, which currently hung limply over the side of the bed. 
“She’s even smaller than your son, Jessica.” The voice sounded more like a wheeze- and it certainly didn’t belong to anyone you had ever met before. 
“As I’ve already said, the Atreides are slow to grow.” Your mother’s tone didn’t hold even a semblance of a bite to it, not like you expected. She was usually fiercely protective of you and your brother. 
Your finger twitched, causing the woman to stifle whatever disapproving comment she was about to make. Being caught eavesdropping like this certainly wasn’t ideal, but you found it impossible not to be curious. 
“She really is just like her brother,” More like he was more like you. You’d always been the rowdy one of the two. Paul must have been listening in as well, and you imagined that he was more insulted at the comments of his lack of height and muscle than you were. “The little rascals.” 
There was a beat of silence before the woman began to crone again. This time you opened your eyes just a sliver, staring into the dark abyss of your room so that you could make out the shapes of your mother and the stranger. 
“Rest now. Both you and your brother need to be prepared to meet my Gom Jabbar.” The reason couldn’t be pinpointed, but there was something about her tone that filled you with dread.
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Your mother woke you up the next morning, bright and early. 
Not even the breathing exercises that your mother had taught you had been able to calm you down last night. The darkness had swallowed you whole, which resulted in a dreamless sleep that left you feeling just as unrested as you had felt the night before. Your mother noticed your hesitations, the skirts of her dress dragging against the stone floor as she moved in the direction of your closet. The dress that she picked out for you was one of your more official garments, the red hawk of the Atreides crest proudly sewn onto the right breast. 
“Did you sleep well?” She questioned as she laid the dress neatly onto the edge of the bed, urging you to stand once her hands were free. 
You blinked at her, nervously brushing your hands along the soft cotton of your nightdress. Your voice felt stuck in your throat, but you still managed to lie. 
“Yes, of course.” Your tone was flat, and for once she didn’t question you on the reasoning. She knew exactly what had you feeling so uncomfortable in your own home. 
Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. 
What exactly did the old woman want from your family? Lady Jessica was a Bene Gesserit, which could only mean that this woman was a higher up, sent to pay you and your brother a visit. You knew nothing about any “coming of age” rituals. 
Paul barged into the room, dressed in his finer clothes as well. He leaned against the wall of your room, lips pursed as if he was deep in thought. You tilted your head to the side, leveling him a worried glance. He simply shook his head, and you knew at once that he wasn’t trying to dismiss your worries. 
‘Not here. Later.’ His expression told you, and for once you obeyed. 
“The reverend mother is waiting on the both of you. Paul, get out of your sister’s room so she can get ready.” She commanded, her tone leaving no room for whining or disobedience. 
He groaned, pushing himself off of the wall so that he could head back out and into the hall. You shrugged out of your dress quickly at the hurried insistence of your mother, allowing her to do up the clasps of the dress for you. 
“Who is she?” You asked simply, brushing your hair to the side so that she could get a better grasp of the dress. 
“She was my teacher at the Bene Gesserit school and now she is the Emperor’s Truthsayer.” Your mother sighed out your name, turning you quickly so that you were facing her. “You need to do exactly as she says. There is no room to be prideful today, do you understand?” Her eyes were pleading, and you knew that she had your best interests in mind. 
You and your mother walked wordlessly out into the hall, catching up with your brother who was busy running his fingers along the uneven stone walls. You flashed a quick look at your mother before jogging to catch up with Paul, taking the hem of his sleeve into your hand. 
“What do you know?” You whispered, turning your head so that you could look at your mother. Much to your surprise she seemed to be in no hurry to separate the two of you. 
“I’ve had dreams about her before,” He whispered, and you had to pick up your pace to keep up with his strides. “And mother told me this morning that I have to tell her about my visions.” 
Your mouth went a bit dry at the realization that this woman truly was here just for you and your brother. What is the Gom Jabbar and what did it entail? There was no telling. 
“She’s in my morning room, you two.” She called out after you. 
Jessica caught up, leveling the both of you a disapproving motherly look that had the two of you slowing your strides to match hers. She seemed a bit hesitant, eyes flickering between you and your brother and the closed door. 
The “reverend mother” sat in one of the tapestried chairs, her arms perched on either side of the armrests as she watched the three of you come in. The view behind her was beautiful, the sprawling, green farmlands of the Atreides family holding on full display through the large windows behind her. You glanced at your brother, eyes widening when you realized that he was already looking at you. He bowed in her direction and you followed his lead. 
“They are a cautious bundle, aren’t they?” The witch-like woman croaked, looking between the two of you. 
“As they have been taught, your reverence.” 
In this room, here in front of this woman, Jessica was no longer the Duke’s concubine nor your mother. She was reduced to that of a pupil in the face of her teacher. You kept yourself from fidgeting, clasping your hands in front of you. You fought the urge to reach out and grab your brother’s hand, as the two of you so often did when faced with anxiety as children. Fear hadn’t regressed you to that of a blubbering child in years. 
Your mother also seemed to fear the woman before her. There was something in her tone that led you to believe that whatever she was here for, it surely wasn’t a pleasantry. Your brother was tense at your mother’s other side, jaw tense as he stared the reverend mother down. 
“Teaching is one thing, but there are some things that cannot simply be taught,” Paul’s eyebrows furrowed as she spoke, and as if she was dismissing a servant of the castle, she waved your mother off with a flick of her wrist. “You and your daughter leave us. It will be her turn soon.” 
For the first time that morning your mother hesitated, eyes softened as she looked upon her son.
“Your reverence, I-” She began, but was cut off before she could finish whatever it is she was going to say. Surely it was meant to be an objection. 
“Jessica, you know that this must be done.” Her voice held a tone of finality. There was no room for your mother to try and wiggle the both of you two out of this trap.
“Yes. . . of course.” Your mother straightened, turning towards both of you. 
“This test. . . It’s very important to me, you two.” She spoke in a hushed voice, eyes still fearful. 
“Test?” The two of you questioned at the same time, looking at one another in concern. You were confused, even more so than you were before. 
“Remember that you’re the duke’s son.” And with that your mother was grabbing your arm, pulling you in the direction of the door. 
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“I suppose that it is my turn?” Your voice shook with anger as you practically tore the door off of its hinges, anxious to take your brother’s place. His cries and whimpers did not go unheard, even with the thick wood separating the two of you. 
Looking at him now, his right arm still shaking from the pain, was like being slapped across the face. 
“Right you are, girl. Jessica, please escort your son out of the room.” There was a silvery glint in her bright eyes- a challenge. She could sense it in you. 
Your mother didn’t interrupt this time, and without any words exchanged the door closed. Your brother was too shaken up by whatever had taken place in that room to fully comprehend that the same thing was going to happen to you. He tossed a terrified glance over his shoulder at you just before the heavy doors closed. The sound of it echoed around the room, pulsing in your chest as you tried to steady the adrenaline pumping through your veins. 
“Your future. . . do you know what is expected of you?” 
You eyed the black box that sat next to her as you began closing the distance between the two of you. The question she had asked. . . it was a touchy subject with you. Of course you knew. A day didn’t go by that you weren’t mortified by the prospect of your future. You only had three short years to live and enjoy before you would be forced to abandon your family to join hands with another one. 
“Of course I do. It is my duty to marry.” Your voice had a bite to it, your eyes unwavering as you stared her veiled face down. 
“It is your duty to marry a Harkonnen. It is an honor to be the only reason that these two great Houses are allies. Your heirs will be powerful beyond comprehension.” The way she spoke. . . she truly believed the shit she was spouting. 
It was impossible to consider marrying Feyd an honor. It was an ever-present looming threat. 
“Put your right hand in the box.” She commanded, nodding her head in it’s direction. 
It seemed harmless enough, nothing more than a metal box. You bent your head ever-so-slightly, trying to have a look inside. It appeared to be a pitch black, endless void. No beginning or end in sight. 
You did as you were told, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from muttering anything too disrespectful under your breath. If Paul’s screams were anything to go off of then this was going to be painful. Still, you were shocked by how cold the box was. You wiggled your fingers a few times, feeling the metal encasing them. Slowly a tingling sensation began, almost as if they were falling asleep. 
“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” 
The tingling sensation somehow melded into. . . heat. No, not heat. Burning. It felt as though you had your hand held up to a bright flame. You flinched, but froze when you finally noticed that the reverend mother was holding something against your neck. Your eyes flickered the best that they could to her hand, not wanting to turn your head. 
“What I hold at your neck is the Gom Jabbar. The tip of the needle is dipped in poison. Remove your hand from the box and I will plunge it into your neck.” 
The palm of your free hand began to sweat, the gravity of the situation finally landing on your shoulders. You would be forced to endure the pain and there was nothing that anyone outside of the doors could do. No guards had come to protect your brother when it was his turn, and no matter how emotional your mother had gotten whilst hearing his screams she still hadn’t rushed in after him. You could truly die here in this room. 
“Why are you doing this?” You urged, wincing again as the burning continued to worsen. 
Now it felt as though you were almost touching a flame, fingers dancing dangerously close. It wasn’t just uncomfortable now but painful.  “To determine if you’re human. Now be silent.”
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Meant for greatness, yet stifled before her prime. 
It was impossible for your clipped wings to take flight. The Bene Gesserit had instilled in you your purpose from a very young age, letting it be known that you were little more than cattle to be sold off to breed. The whole arrangement was dehumanizing, but this was the way of galactic high society. Every House had been developed by the close, watchful eye of the Bene Gesserit. Your mere existence was a result of a centuries long breeding program, so how could you ever expect for your own life to be any different? 
Every child, especially in their naive youth, dreams of greatness. There was a point in time where you had hoped to mean something. There were differences to be made, rules to be broken, wars to be raged- but you would never be at the helm of any of it. But Paul. . . Paul was different. 
“You know something that I don’t.” You weren’t asking Paul, rather telling him what you already knew. 
Where you were used to your brother pulling no punches, he had been overly cautious with his treatment of you during training today. For a second he just stared ahead blankly at the wall, and you wondered whether he would try to lie. The older you’ve gotten, the stranger other people’s treatment of you has become. Women were little more than something to be owned. It was a hard lesson to learn and was one you were still grappling with. 
Your femininity were the chains that bound you. And what of your ambition? It was currently acting as the flames licking at your boot heels. Soon you feared that it would fully engulf you; become your undoing. 
“Tell me.” Your lovely features crumpled, and as childish as it was you found yourself giving his arm a slap. 
He jumped at the sudden contact, eyes widening as he turned to face you after what felt like an eternity of prolonged silence between the two of you. The hard flooring felt cool beneath your legs as you stretched them out beneath you, and for a second you found it hard to keep yourself up in a sitting position. The world felt unsteady beneath you, both literally and figuratively. 
Paul didn’t have to say anything at all. You looked, you saw, you felt, you understood. Your shared connection had nothing to do with your genes, rather it had to do with your likeness. Two bodies, two minds, but one soul. Your twin’s features crumpled, mirroring that of your own as he pushed a few strands of dark hair away from his face. 
“So there is nothing I can do? My fate is sealed.” Your lips felt numb as you spoke. 
Your brother’s visions were more frequent than they had ever been before. “Horrors”, he’d described them.
“If there was something I could do. . .” He started, turning quickly to face you, tucking one leg beneath himself. “My hands are tied. Mother and father’s hands are as well.” 
Hiding you away or knowingly allowing you to escape your duties would be seen as an act of treason. You’d be putting your parents and their status in danger, and no matter how desperate you were to get out of any sort of marriage pact, it was far too late. Since the very moment you were conceived, this was what you were meant for. 
“When will the orders come down, you think?” You pulled your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them tightly. 
You wished that you could stay like this forever, protected from the rest of the world. If only you hadn’t been born as twins at all. You wanted so badly to be like Paul. 
But the galaxy didn’t work like that. You were not fortunate enough to get what you wanted. 
“Soon.” 
You felt comforted by the hand that he placed on your shoulder, and even more so when he kept it there until you felt as though you were able to stand up. 
You were to marry into House Harkonnen. That was your purpose; to unite the feuding houses and birth powerful offspring. You had met Feyd once before, but only for a fleeting moment. It hadn’t been awkward- no, back then the two of you hadn’t cared enough to pay any mind to the looming threat that was your betrothal. You’d been too young back then to fully grasp the severity of the situation. 
You remembered being shocked by his size. He towered over Paul, appearing to be years older than he really was. His hair had been dark back then, thick and slightly curly. 
He had only just been taken under his uncle’s wing at the time. The environment of Giedi Prime had yet to fully sink into the young boy. The Harkonnen’s looks had always been startling to you, no matter how many times you’d been exposed to it. They were dark creatures, brooding, hairless with skin as pale as milk- not to mention violent. 
The desperate way that Paul had clung to you was not lost on you. You let him squeeze you as tightly as he needed, your arms locking around his back. This meeting would change everything. In a matter of moments your life as you knew it would be taking a drastic turn, and not for the better. 
You’d made that very same trek to the parlor room a million times. This was your ancestral home- had been in your family longer than you thought was conceivable, and yet this felt new to you. Wrong. The shadows from the windows were casting strange lights on the wall beside you, and your footsteps sounded muffled in your ears as your pounding heart nearly deafened you. Your father’s hand brushed against your palm a few times, his attempt at showing you physical comfort without causing any sort of scene. You knew that this was Feyd-Rautha’s right. 
You were Feyd-Rautha’s right. That simple fact alone was enough to send you reeling, that morning's breakfast churning in your stomach. 
“It will be fine.” Your mother’s fingers shaped the words at her side, a comforting and silent presence. 
Your parents had always protected you. They had taught you well in all aspects of life. She was right. You had to trust yourself just as much as you trusted them. This will be fine. You will survive. 
But god, you wanted to live. 
Your worst fear was being locked up like a caged animal, only taken out to be played with or paraded around. You didn’t want to be somebody's little wife; you were no homemaker or bed warmer. 
‘I am better than this.’ You thought to yourself, your hands balling into fists at your sides. 
As the double doors began creeping open, you felt the sudden urge to run the opposite direction, your parents be damned. The feud between House Atreides and House Harkonnen would surely become deadly if you were to turn your back on the promise now, and that was the only thing that steeled your feet. You stood, back straight and hands clasped tightly at your front. 
You looked to be a pillar of strength, but oh- you were so close to crumbling. Your father took a step past the threshold, eyes hard as he bowed his head respectfully in the Baron’s direction. There was still time to turn around. The door was right there, and you were sure that you could commandeer a ship. You’d piloted a few times before in your life, and while you weren’t the best, you were certain you could get yourself the hell off of Caladan. You shuffled your feet, eyes wide as you looked up and caught your mother’s gaze. Her lips were parted, and you could tell that she was trying to decipher your expression. 
“What are you doing?” Her hand moved quickly at her side, the flowy gauze-like material of her skirts hiding her frantic movements from the visitor’s view. 
Nothing. You were doing nothing. There were no options yet. If you fled then the insubordination would fall back on your parents. If you downright refused then the outcome would be the same. There was nothing you could do but keep your mouth shut and try not to show the Harkonnen even a semblance of vulnerability. 
Disdain rolled off of you in waves as you breezed into the parlor, eyes locked on the side of your father’s face as he conversed with the baron. Tensions were high, even now. No pleasantries were being exchanged, that you were sure of. The Harkonnen’s stark black attire was a startling contrast to their pale skin. There, in the middle of two other men, whom you were sure were present for reasons of protection, was Feyd. 
He looked the same as the rest of them. Hairless, blue eyes dripping with something that could only be described as malice. Gone was the curly haired child that you remembered. In his place stood someone unrecognizable to you. You wanted to question what the Baron had done to Feyd, but you already knew. Perfection was expected on Geidi Prime. 
He had shaped Feyd into the very likeness of perfection. The once dark haired boy was now a walking, talking machine; not even a dead leaf echo of the boy you met all those years ago. 
You tried to map out every single one of his microexpressions, searching desperately for any sign that he might disapprove of the predicament the both of you had found yourselves in. He tilted his head to the side, observing you with a horrifying level of concentration. The Baron began to speak, saying something that you didn’t care enough to listen to. You were too distracted by the terrifying man before you. 
“She will come back home to Geidi Prime with us. No objections, correct?” 
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You were marrying him out of an obligation, this he was already privy to. He had seen the reluctance written plain across your face as you’d entered the room. You’d wanted to run. Away from him, away from your responsibilities- and he could not blame you for it. His understanding stopped there though, simply because this proposal wasn’t going against his own wishes. 
“The wedding isn’t taking place for another week.” The Duke didn’t seem to like the idea of his unwed daughter leaving his side. 
Feyd fought back a smile, having known that the Baron’s sudden request would have this effect on the Atreides family. He watched you squirm like a bug under a magnifying glass, your hand moving at your hip. For a second he thought that you might be tugging at the seam of your dress, writing it off as nothing but a nervous tick- but then he saw the way your mother’s eyes followed those movements. 
The two of you were communicating. 
“That may be so, however I think that it is only right that your daughter,” Baron Vladimir motioned in your direction. “Becomes better acquainted with Feyd. You don’t agree?” 
His uncle decided that it was best to test the boundaries of this alliance. He was pushing the Duke, seeing how far he could get. Leto’s lips twitched, his eyes flickering thoughtfully towards you. Feyd was finding it hard to pay attention to anyone else other than you in the room. He’d spent years imagining what you would look like as an adult- dreamt about it. He’d eagerly been awaiting this moment, counting the days that he could finally be reunited with you. 
It wasn’t just because he had been promised powerful heirs. It was the thought that someone was fated to marry him. Since before he was even conceived, you had always been promised to him. That idea had been put into his head since childhood. You were the constant topic in his mind, a person that was unavoidably meant to be in his life for the rest of his days. 
In a strange way he had loved you since he was but a child. 
Seeing you for that first time had been better than he had anticipated. You were a beautiful little girl, but now? The child that he had met all those years ago did not hold a candle to the grace and brilliance of the woman that stood before him. Nobody else could ever compare. You didn’t have to fall for him right now, he was content with that. Hell, you didn’t even have to tolerate him.  He would find pleasure in wearing you down. He was going to make you love him.
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I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. 
The adrenaline had run its way out of your system, leaving you cold and alone on a planet that was so incredibly alien to you, you weren’t sure how you’d ever be expected to adjust. Even the oxygen felt different in your lungs- the sweet, acrid smell of chemicals tinging the air around you. It was nothing like your home on Caladan. Your home was a stone castle, but this? This was a cold, black fortress. 
You weren’t sure if it was meant to keep people out. . . or in. 
You thought back to that fateful day with the reverend mother. 
“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” 
You couldn’t chew your leg off to be free of this. No, you had to lay in wait. Only then could you strike if the situation called for it. 
“Striking” could wait until tomorrow though. For now you wanted to rid yourself of the anxiety. Sleep was the only cure you could think of. 
“Is the room to your liking?” That husky voice of his was already grating on your nerves. 
Feyd had only attempted to speak to you a few times and already you were sick and tired of his presence. He was a constant reminder that you would never know what it was like to be free. Then again, was anybody in the galaxy truly free? Feyd sure seemed to be carefree in his current position. 
His tone felt off, like he was toying with you. 
“I would be far more pleased about my new living quarters if you were to leave.” You said simply, pulling the slate gray blanket up and over your chin. 
You weren’t sure if it was due to his ill-breeding, but he didn’t seem to care that you were in nothing but your night dress. He walked into the room in long-legged strikes, letting the door shut behind him. Never before had the two of you been alone together, not since you were children at least. If you were back in your family home you would feel safer during a moment like this. 
You were in his territory now, meaning he had full reign over everything. Your father and family name couldn’t protect you on Geidi Prime. 
“You’re in quite the rush to be rid of me,” He didn’t falter for even a second as he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, leaning back against the plush mattress with a small sigh. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you didn’t like me.” He didn’t seem upset at the notion of you disliking him. In fact, there was a glint in his eyes. That same sort of silvery glint you’d seen in the reverend mother’s eyes all those years ago: a challenge. 
This was nothing but a challenge to him. You were a conquest, and you detested that. Your stomach soured, your face becoming pinched as you glared at him. This was all too much too fast. You were in the comfort of your own home not even four hours ago, and now you were expected to make small talk with the source of your life-long discontent.  
“And what of your concubines? Could you not pester them tonight and give me a moment's peace?” 
“I dismissed them from their duties, permanently, weeks ago.” He said simply, his fingers running along the cotton of the comforter. 
“What?” You’d never heard of such a thing. 
“Spending time with them would be a waste.” His blue eyes flickered up to meet your eyes. “Acquiring concubines had just been a show of status.” 
It took you a few moments to process what he was saying, the burning hatred you had felt just moments ago flickering out into a dull flame. 
“Why would spending time with them be a waste? Am I expected to spend that much time with you?” A horror, truly. You had hoped that you’d be able to get away with spending a night or two a week with him, if only to achieve the Bene Gesserit’s goal of siring an heir. 
“A waste of time. A waste of seed,” He looked at you pointedly, his lip pulling up into a smile that revealed more of his black teeth. “And both of those things are important to me.” 
Your stomach hollowed out as you were once again reminded of what was expected of you. You had a week to prepare mentally for your wedding night, which you weren’t sure was enough. 
“And what happened to the concubines? Are they still being housed here?” 
“Why? Are you jealous?” He was smiling even wider than he was before. 
A shiver ran through you as you noticed how predatory his body language was- you felt like prey under his haughty gaze. It was hard to believe that Feyd had been administered the Gom Jabbar test and passed. 
This man was no human. He was an animal, that you were certain. 
“Wickedly.” Your tone was flat and noncommittal. Even now, you never saw Feyd as a potential lover. 
The man that was your so-called “destiny” was also your jailer. 
“Well then you’ll be happy to know that they no longer live here. . . or anywhere, for that matter.” He sat up, rolling his shoulders back to stretch his broad muscles.
The blood drained from your face as you stared up at him from your spot on the bed. He must have felt the weight of your gaze and turned his head, his eyes alight with. . . pleasure. Violence was as ingrained in him as breathing was. It was his life. Standing before you was the prince of death- pale, striking and terrifying. 
Animal, indeed. 
I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. 
← previous chapter | next chapter →
please message me if you'd like to be added to my taglist!
A/N: this chapter was plot heavy, I know, however it was crucial to give you guys some background information so that I can better build tension. the beautiful dividers were created by @ kitsunecafe!
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Soft-Selfie Wang YiBo: A Collection
Let’s celebrate that fact that we got a new selfie from Wang YiBo…
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…with this series of WYB’s soft selfies:
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See Mirror-Selfie-Era Wang YiBo
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FYI artists and writers: some info regarding tumblr's new "third-party sharing" (aka selling your content to OpenAI and Midjourney)
You may have already seen the post by @staff regarding third-party sharing and how to opt out. You may have also already seen various news articles discussing the matter.
But here's a little further clarity re some questions I had, and you may too. Caveat: Not all of this is on official tumblr pages, so it's possible things may change.
(1) "I heard they already have access to my data and it doesn't really matter if I opt out"
From the 404 article:
A new FAQ section we reviewed is titled “What happens when you opt out?” states “If you opt out from the start, we will block crawlers from accessing your content by adding your site on a disallowed list. If you change your mind later, we also plan to update any partners about people who newly opt-out and ask that their content be removed from past sources and future training.”
So please, go click that opt-out button.
(2) Some future user: "I've been away from tumblr for months, and I just heard about all this. I didn't opt out before, so does it make a difference anymore?"
Another internal document shows that, on February 23, an employee asked in a staff-only thread, “Do we have assurances that if a user opts out of their data being shared with third parties that our existing data partners will be notified of such a change and remove their data?” Andrew Spittle, Automattic’s head of AI replied: “We will notify existing partners on a regular basis about anyone who's opted out since the last time we provided a list. I want this to be an ongoing process where we regularly advocate for past content to be excluded based on current preferences. We will ask that content be deleted and removed from any future training runs. I believe partners will honor this based on our conversations with them to this point. I don't think they gain much overall by retaining it.”
It should make a difference! Go click that button.
(3) "I opted out, but my art posts have been reblogged by so many people, and I don't know if they all opted out. What does that mean for my stuff?"
This answer is actually on the support page for the toggle:
This option will prevent your blog's content, even when reblogged, from being shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, including those that train AI models.
And some further clarification by the COO and a product manager:
zingring: A couple people from work have reached out to let me know that yes, it applies to reblogs of "don't scrape" content. If you opt out, your content is opted out, even in reblog form. cyle: yep, for reblogs, we're taking it so far as "if anybody in the reblog trail has opted out, all of the content in that reblog will be opted out", when a reblog could be scraped/shared.
So not only your reblogged posts, but anyone who contributed in a reblog (such as posts where someone has been inspired to draw fanart of the OP) will presumably be protected by your opt-out. (A good reason to opt out even if you yourself are not a creator.)
Furthermore, if you the OP were offline and didn't know about the opt-out, if someone contributed to a reblog and they are opted out, then your original work is also protected. (Which makes it very tempting to contribute "scrapeable content" now whenever I reblog from an abandoned/disused blog...)
(4) "What about deleted blogs? They can't opt out!"
I was told by someone (not official) that he read "deleted blogs are all opted-out by default". However, he didn't recall the source, and I can't find it, so I can't guarantee that info. If I get more details - like if/when tumblr puts up that FAQ as reported in the 404 article - I will add it here as soon as I can.
Edit, tumblr has updated their help page for the option to opt-out of third-party sharing! It now states:
The content which will not be shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, including those that train AI models, includes: • Posts and reblogs of posts from blogs who have enabled the "Prevent third-party sharing" option. • Posts and reblogs of posts from deleted blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from password-protected blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from explicit blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from suspended/deactivated blogs. • Private posts. • Drafts. • Messages. • Asks and submissions which have not been publicly posted. • Post+ subscriber-only posts. • Explicit posts.
So no need to worry about your old deleted blogs that still have reblogs floating around. *\o/*
But for your existing blogs, please use the opt out option. And a reminder of how to opt out, under the cut:
The opt-out toggle is in Blog Settings, and please note you need to do it for each one of your blogs / sideblogs.
On dashboard, the toggle is at https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/blogname [replace "blogname" as applicable] down by Visibility:
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For mobile, you need the most recent update of the app. (Android version 33.4.1.100, iOs version 33.4.) Then go to your blog tab (the little person icon), and then the gear icon for Settings, then click Visibility.
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Again, if you have a sideblog, go back to the blog tab, switch to it, and go to settings again. Repeat as necessary.
If you do not have access to the newest version of the app for whatever reason, you can also log into tumblr in your mobile browser. Same URL as per desktop above, same location.
Note you do not need to change settings in both desktop and the app, just one is fine.
I hope this helps!
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savannahsdeath · 7 months
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Ellie and reader having sex, but Ellie starts to talk dirty and reader gets embarrassed so she hides her face in ellies neck. But Ellie teases and tells her not to hide bc she's so pretty. (Imagining this w/ strap in missionary position if u could do that'd be wonderful😍)
shes so awhzjxbag ok i cant . also i got really carried away but uhh hushh warnings: just strap on smut, everything said in the ask;)))
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: ̗̀➛ "you hear that?" ellie asked, smiling proudly as she looked down at you. you closed your eyes and tried to focus on whatever she meant, but the only sound entering your used, tired brain was your own moans. you strained your hearing and slowly drifted off to more distant things, like the strap pumping in and out of your desperate cunt, messily and noisily. "such a mess..." ellie chuckled, listening to the sloppy act. "but it's not my fault you're so wet for me."
: ̗̀➛ you gulped, losing a hold of your concentration. your foggy mind couldn't think of an answer - did you do something wrong? should you apologise? or was it some kind of a praise? "els—" you started, but the long s turned into a melodious moan.
: ̗̀➛ "speak up, sweetie." ellie whispered, leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead. you used the moment of closeness to hold the back of her neck, not letting her pull away. she cocked her head to the side, your gaping lips brushing her earlobe as another whine escaped your throat. you quickly pursed your lips, letting yourself make only muffled sounds. but you didn't last long, as every thrust and every inaudible whimper seemed to forcefully open your mouth from the inside. "don't hold back, i want to hear you." ellie reassured, but much to your surprise she didn't wait with her ear next to your face to hear your response. she tilted her head to face you, making you feel her piercing, but not judgemental, gaze.
: ̗̀➛ you honored her with another moan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, to the point your eyelids uncontrollably closed. "mh— fuck." you groaned, your fists clenching around the bed sheets as your chest raised in a deep breath.
: ̗̀➛ "i can make you feel way better." ellie bit her bottom lip, holding back a proud smile. "i can make you be way louder. do you want that?" you huffed, way too dumb to speak up. she could as well start talking about the weather now, and you wouldn't have any idea how hilarious it is. "tell me, doll."
: ̗̀➛ you swallowed up another pornographic sound which wanted to sneak out of your throat. ellie's questions were usually easy to answer, so you thought a simple, weak "yes" will satisfy her.
: ̗̀➛ yet, her only response was an amused "yes... what?" as she brushed your messy hair out of your face.
: ̗̀➛ your face flushed, almost burnt with heat. your hands tightened their grip, bringing her closer, making your face find a spot to hide in - the crook of her neck. "i—" your lips parted again, brushing against her skin. she let out a sound similiar to your whine, as if to mock you, yet there was a loving undertone to it. "want you to make me feel good, els." you quickly murmured, finding a one second break.
: ̗̀➛ "well, i want to see your pretty face as i do." she whispered in a gentle tone, but didn't move away. "you have no idea how beautiful you look under me, with half lidded and watery eyes." she continued and your body slowly got rid of the previous tension, your grip on her also relaxing. she finally withdrew, glaring down at you. "just don't move and look pretty for me, yeah?"
✧˖°
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gojoest · 6 months
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𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 — gojo satoru
MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns used, wc: 3.3k, flashback of how you met (1st part of the fic, past tense used, then we jump back to present, divider used to separate the two timelines. both take place on his birthday btw), suguru makes an appearance (as satoru’s wingman :3), established relationship (you’re married & have a daughter), reader wears a dress, first time face sitting + riding (oral, f! receiving), pet names (baby, my love), he cums in his pants, breeding implied at the end (sort of, to avoid spoilers)
a/n: happy birthday to my biggest mental illness ♡
side note: if the story of how you met sounds familiar to you, please note that it was from one of my talk posts from a while ago & i decided to make use of it : )
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what gojo satoru wants — he always gets.
after all, it’s how he made you his as well.
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“satoru, you’re staring way too hard at her”, suguru nudged him on the arm.
“think she noticed, too?”, satoru chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, ears turning slightly red from embarrassment, unsure if it was because he got caught or that it was too obvious he was checking you out.
“very likely. i mean, it’s hard not to notice an annoying pair of blue laser beams persistently invading your space”, suguru mocked. “are you going to talk to her?”
“yes”, satoru firmly replied, without peeling his eyes from you, “i’ll ask her out, i think”
“hey, hey. slow down there”
“nope”, satoru shrugged, almost like a stubborn child disobeying his parent, “i’ve made up my mind — i really want to make her mine”
it was a pure coincidence, or some might say fate, that you ended up in the same restaurant — he was there celebrating his birthday with a small circle of friends while you were present to honor your colleague that had just gotten a promotion at work.
satoru’s eyes relentlessly followed your every move, every gesture, from the moment you walked in and settled on the table next to his. it was rather unusual for him to be this interested in someone simply upon sight, in fact, even desiring to pursue something with someone so immediately. it was always the other way around — women would flock to him because of his looks and peculiar behavior, and of course — his money — but he would turn them down without batting an eye. love and seeking romance were never a priority for him, he did not have time nor any interest in them. but here he was, contradicting himself, being blatantly distracted by your presence while somehow trying to simulate an active conversation with his friends, more than frequently averting his gaze to look at you, his brain busy coming up with a plan to get your number by the end of the night.
it didn’t take him too long to finally make his move. he stood up from his chair and walked over to your table, stopping right behind your seat.
“excuse me”, he leaned in, placing one hand at the edge of the table and the other — at the back of your chair, “hello”, his face mere inches away from yours. taken aback by the way he, a complete stranger, had the guts to get this close to you, you turned to face him with a questioning look.
“i felt like i would regret it for the rest of my life if i didn’t come say hi to you”, he spoke.
truth be told, despite being astounded and a bit put off by his approach, you were slightly intrigued. he was handsome, pretty even — like that one oddly eye-catching cloud in a sky full of thousands that you notice as soon as you look up. the white henley shirt he was wearing made the blue in his eyes pop even more, the v-neck revealing a little bit of his well-crafted chest, just enough to leave you tiny bit wondering about the ridges of his abs beneath.
as much as the scenery up close made your cheeks feel hot, his boldness rubbed you up the wrong way, too much to let it just slide, and you snapped. “is that so? well, now that you’ve said your hi, you can go back to your table and live with no regrets for the rest of your life”, you rolled your eyes skeptically, pushing his hand off the table.
“oh, i am sorry”, he chuckled, brushing his hair back with a hand, “but there are three more things i need to do before leaving, i’m afraid”
you raised an eyebrow, questioning.
“first, let me introduce myself — i am gojo satoru, also known as the man to be your boyfriend, then your husband, and then the father of your children”, he smugly said. your eyes widening at the audacity of his declaration that left you at a loss for words. “second, i hope you don’t mind introducing yourself as well — as you are to be my girlfriend, then my wife, and then the mother of my children — it’s only natural that i know your name”, he continued, “and last but not least — i am not leaving until you give me your number so we can make this all work”
wow. this man was really fucked in the head, you were sure of it — who in the right mind would speak such nonsense to someone they just met? “you have to be joking, right?”, you laughed in genuine disbelief.
“no. i am dead serious”, he replied in a heartbeat.
“is this your move? you pull this on everyone you find remotely attractive?”, you narrowed your eyes.
“actually—”, suguru interrupted, placing a hand on satoru’s shoulder as he approached from behind, “no”, he spoke. “believe me when i tell you this — he’s never been this smooth in his entire life. i know he probably came off a bit creepy, considering the boldness of his actions — hell, even i am creeped out because it’s pretty unusual for him to act like this”, he laughed, glancing at satoru to let him know that he got his back on this. “but, what i’m trying to say is — my friend here seems to really like you as i’ve never seen him be so intense and interested in anyone before. he’s also a birthday boy today — so could you at least give him a chance before turning him down so quickly? you can come sit with us before you make up your mind on whether you want to give him your number or not?”
you thought for a second, weighing the options in your mind — he was pretty, although he annoyed you a little bit by being all bossy and arrogant as if you were compelled to belong to him just because he said so. but there was just something about him you couldn’t quite put your finger on that made you question yourself. were you actually drawn to him? you could say “no” and never hear from him again, occasionally pondering over the what-if’s and should-have’s from this night; or you could say “fuck it” and see where this strange encounter goes, and live your life without regrets — as he would say. there — he was already getting under your skin…
“well”, you sighed, “guess i’m down for that”
by the end of the night not only did you give him your number, but also a promise for a date the next day — the first of many to follow after.
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“careful, you’ll wake her up”, you whisper, leaning against the doorframe of your 3-year old’s room and watching your husband place a soft peck on your daughter’s forehead.
“can’t help it”, he speaks quietly, “she looks like an angel”, before fixing the blankets around her, making sure she’s tucked in all cozily. “the nanny said she cried for papa while we were gone”, he puts a hand over his mouth to stop his lips from trembling, his eyes filled with nothing but love and tenderness, welling up and flowing from the corners.
“she’s such a daddy’s girl”, you sigh, a soft smile present on your face, “next year we can stay home and invite everyone else over — that way we won’t have to worry about missing her bedtime”.
“yea”, he hums, “let’s do that next year”, giving her one last kiss before turning off the night lamp and tiptoeing to you. “come on”, he puts a hand at the small of your back as you both walk out of the room.
“do you remember”, satoru speaks softly into your ear while walking behind you on your way to your shared bedroom, his front flat against your back, the hand at the small of it now circling around to rest over your navel, while the other — reaches for the handle of your bedroom door to push it open, “the night we first met on my birthday?”, he continues after carefully guiding you inside.
you stop in the middle of the room, his arms still wrapped around you from behind, your hands resting over his and playing with his knuckles.
“how can i not?” you chuckle, tilting your head back to let him rest his chin on your forehead, “that was one hell of a fortune telling you pulled on me back then”
“but i was right, no?”, he brushes his lips on your forehead before leaving a soft peck, “see — you’re all mine now, just like i said”, and then another, ”i made you my girlfriend first”, and another, “then i gave you my last name”, and a fourth one, “and then you gave me a beautiful daughter, made me a father”, before turning you around to face him.
“you partly owe it to suguru though — he eased me into the situation, unlike you”, you reply, humbling him like you always do. your head is nestled on his broad chest as one of his hands caress the back of it. still in his embrace, he slowly walks you towards the bed. sits at the edge of it and straddles you on his lap. his palms finding their way to the plush of your thighs draped over his, caressing them tenderly but needily as his fingertips press and then release against your flesh in quick repetitive motions.
“this is because i asked him to give me a hand in case you cut me off”, he admits, tilting his head to meet your lips, not to kiss but just to keep them brushing against each other as you speak. he loved doing this a lot.
“oh?”, you gasp into his mouth, pretending to be shocked to your core, “you wanted me so much that you of all people, the gojo satoru, had to ask someone else for help?”
“you have no idea. if that hadn’t worked, i would’ve fallen on my hands and knees and begged you to take me”, one of his hands reaching the side of your face, playing his fingers on the strands of your hair covering your cheek before tucking them behind your ear.
“hmm”, you doubt, “is that so?”, nuzzling your nose against his.
“mhmm”, he nods, “there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you, i thought you knew that by now. it kind of hurts my feelings that you doubt me actually”, he acts offended, pursing his lips and turning his head to the side to face away from you.
“oh my, what have i done now”, you knit your brows and press your cheek against his, pretending to be very, very sorry about what you just said.
“you made the birthday boy sad”, he huffs a silly, somehow obviously forced, pout, “you’ve got to make it up to me somehow”
“i’d do anything to make the birthday boy smile again — just say the word”, you sweetly pamper, patting the top of his head.
“really?”
“really.”
“anything?”
“anything.”
“you promise not to go back on your word?”
“i promise.”
he pulls his cheek away from yours and looks you in the eyes, the blue in his shining with a darker shade of mischief now. and considering the smug smile on his face, you sigh — perhaps you just got yourself played, falling face down into his little trap.
“then”, he points at his own face, “sit on it”
to say you were surprised by his request would be a lie. he’s many times tried coaxing you into doing this in the past but somehow you managed to avoid it, part of you still shying away from it. it’s not like his tongue has never been inside you before. but riding it as if it were his cock seemed way more obscene in your head than anything you two have ever done previously — and you’ve done pretty much a lot.
“well”, you sigh in defeat, seems like the time has finally come, “today’s your lucky day”, you say as you get up from his lap and turn your back — a signal for him to unzip your dress — to which, of course, he immediately complies.
“as it should be”, his crafty fingers work the slider down, slowly peeling the dress off your body and letting it fall on the floor, followed by your lace thong and bra, “it’s my birthday after all”
“the way you always find a way to make things go your way gets on my nerves so much”, you turn around again and push him on the bed and slowly climb on top of him to straddle his chest.
“make a wish before you blow the candle”, you look down at him, your pussy close to his face, the scent of you tickling his nostrils, and he, instinctively almost, takes a deeper breath, rolling his eyes back and hissing with delight.
“freak”, you quickly look away, embarrassed, but he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him again, “i want you to look at me as you ride my face”, his voice comes out breathy, “will you do that for the birthday boy?”
you nod into his palms, “you’re insufferable” — “suffocate me then”, he coos through a grin, grabbing your knees to pull you forward until you’re above his face.
“jerk”, you say, but softly, as you lower your cunt on his willing mouth, landing your softness on his face in slow motion, immediately earning a throaty groan from him that shudders through your pussy lips.
satoru breathes deeply in and out with your heat on his mouth, the scent of you hitting his lungs and even below, reaching all the way down to his groin to further nurture his cock already throbbing in his slacks. his hand reaching down to unbuckle them slightly, to give more space for his hard-on to grow freely.
“mowe”, he muffles incoherently into your pussy, grabbing a handful of your ass cheeks to push you against his face, tilting his head up and down, jutting his jaw up and out to meet you.
you whimper at the friction, your clit bumping and rubbing against his nose as his lips are kissing your folds, his tongue slowly poking at your entrance with the tip before darting in — twirling around your walls — and out.
“nghh…s-sa-t-to—”, you barely cry out his name, tugging at his hair, mercilessly pulling him into your heat. as much as you hated to admit it, you loved this position. your embarrassment long gone and forgotten, you ride his face in a haze, your pussy getting wetter against his mouth and your movements — faster and harder each moment.
“heawen on my fongwue”, he groans. if he could speak properly right now, he would probably make the nastiest, dirtiest remarks, shamelessly walk you through every single thing he was feeling as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding on his face. he would probably say something about your boobs, too. how they looked so pretty jiggling ever so slightly from the movement. he can’t speak right now, yes, but he can still get his thoughts reach you through actions — his hands run along your belly, gripping your breasts from below, squeezing and squishing them inside of his palms.
you clutch his hands with yours, “i can’t hold this position for too long”, and force them down on your hips for support. you hear him say something through a loud groan but it’s barely recognizable — most likely just him cursing “fuck” and “baby” from pleasure under your pussy, but also from the ego boost you just gave him — that he can make you weak but at the same time desperate enough to want to continue — despite your hips giving up — not only with his cock but his mouth alone, too.
you let him take over as you chase your high, weighing on his face as his hands grip on your hips, dictating your every move, composing the tune of your hips. his tongue is no more sliding in and out as he makes you grind harder on his face — it stays in, continuously licking your sweet spot clean.
“f-fuck, fuck, fuck…”, you curse loudly, reaching your hands to grab the head of the bed and hammer your pussy harder into his face, squeezing every last drop of strength left in your already cramping muscles until you cum, shuddering on his mouth.
“mfff”, he groans throatily into your hole, sucking and slurping your juices. his hips buck in the air, helplessly searching for friction to soothe his aching cock. his half-unbuckled pants are drenched with precum, leaking out from his tip through his boxers and out through the cloth of his pants, visibly staining them.
you can’t see but it’s easy to figure out from the way the bed bounces up and down as his ass meets the mattress after every time his hips fall down. “how cute”, you utter as you try to calm down your breathing, cunt still resting over his face.
his eyes are half closed, rolling back and hiding their blue away. all he needs is a little push, a little rub, you know it. you know it by the way his tongue has stopped moving inside you, by the way his hands have loosened the grip on your flesh, by the way his shortened moans have grown into one long and steady groan coming from the bottom of his throat — his entire brain solely focused on the muscles of his lower body that is searching, almost beggingly, for relief.
you lean your upper body back a little, just enough to make it easier to reach his shaft while still sitting on his face. “since you’re the birthday boy”, you drag your words out as you place your hand on his clothed cock, feeling the wetness that’s emerged from beneath against your palm, “i’ll give you a hand.”
his ass cheeks tense and squeeze as he presses his hips against your touch, ferociously rubbing his clothed cock on the flesh of your open palm. his groans get louder as he bucks his hips under your hand, pushing them up to meet your hand harder and faster each time — just the way he forces his cock into your tight cunt as he nears — until the last three thrusts that he always prolongs in order to properly and completely pump his seed out.
the inside of your hand feels hot against his clothed cock as he seeps himself out, the stickiness of his cum absorbing itself into the material of his pants and emerging through it to reach the skin of your palm.
you lift yourself up a little only to plop your body down next to his. his mouth, cheeks, chin, even his nose, are covered in his spit and your cum, all mixed in.
“shit, baby”, he laughs, breathing deeply in and out of his mouth, overwhelmed by the whole experience, “what the hell did you just do to me”
“do you really need me to verbalize what just happened”
“yes”
“no”, you slap his cheek with the back of your hand, softly, before rolling on your side to rest your head on the left side of his chest, kissing it tenderly. “happy birthday”
“it really is”, he whispers, tracing a heart shape over the skin of your exposed cheek with his fingertip, “with you, it always is”
“did your wish come true by any chance?”, you tilt your head to look at him.
“not yet. but i’ll work on it later tonight. for now, i’ll let you catch your breath”
“wait, wait.”, you raise a brow, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“my love”, he clears his throat, “do you remember how i said, when we first met, that you’d be the mother of my children?”
“yea? am i not?”
“children”, he stresses.
“oh.”, it finally hits you.
“one more to go”
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How to Build Self Discipline
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Cultivating self-discipline is the way towards personal growth and achieving long-term goals. To me, it’s really all about making choices that honor your well-being and identity.
Understand that self-discipline is about self love and respect
It’s not about punishment or deprivation, but rather caring for yourself enough to make choices that align with your long-term well-being and goals.
You’re showing yourself the respect you deserve by honoring and committing to changes you want to make.
It’s all about recognizing your worth and having the motivation and courage to pursue what’s really best for you, even when it requires a lot of effort and decision-making.
Frame your identity in a way that includes discipline
How we act directly ties to our identities and how we believe we are. If you believe you’re a successful individual, you’ll live a life framed by confidence and determination. If you believe you’re someone who is lazy and unmotivated, you’ll struggle to find the drive to pursue your goals and aspirations.
Gaining discipline is all about acting as the person you believe you are and moving through life in a way that’s consistent with your determined identity. The key here is to try to imagine who you are at your highest self in a disciplined state of mind.
To start this, ask yourself these questions and slowly arrange your life in a way so there’s no distance between who you are now and your highest self:
What does your day look like
What do you eat
What do you wear
What does your week look like
What does your work day look like
What hobbies do you have
What’s your morning and night routine
Who are you surrounded by
What do you say yes and no to
Have systems in your life
I recently wrote a post about habits and mentioned the idea of systems versus goals. Here, I want to delve a bit deeper into that concept within the context of self-discipline.
To me, another way to truly live a disciplined life is to establish starting systems, something that will propel you past hurdles and reduce the friction that accompanies change.
Let’s say you want to improve your eating habits and cultivate discipline in consuming less sugar while incorporating more whole foods into your diet. You could begin by implementing a system of prepping healthy snacks or meals in advance at the start of each week, or however you see fit. By having these snacks readily available, you eliminate the need for decision-making, making it easier to adhere to your goal.
Anything that serves as a reminder or facilitates consistent action toward your desired outcome is a valuable system in your life.
Be okay with not doing something and embrace the mindset of small wins
This may seem paradoxical in the context of developing self-discipline, but being okay with not doing something is crucial. There are times in life when we need tough love and motivation, but there are also moments when compassion is the driving force that propels us forward.
When you don’t follow through with something, whether it’s going for a run or preparing a healthy dinner, it’s important to be okay with it. You don’t need to shame yourself or feel guilty for not taking action because that will only reinforce negative thought patterns, making it harder to create the change you desire.
Consider this: if you miss a planned run and spiral into self-criticism, you’re more likely to avoid running altogether. However, if you approach the situation with understanding and compassion, you’ll be more inclined to try again next time.
This is where small daily victories come into play. Sometimes, all we need is one small step forward to develop a new habit and maintain consistency. Whatever you're striving to improve or change, if it feels daunting, tell yourself, "Just for today, I'll do a 15-minute workout instead of the full hour," or "Just for today, I'll read 5 pages instead of the entire chapter," and celebrate these as small victories. Doing so not only helps you establish new habits but also allows you to acknowledge the progress you've made and the trust you've built within yourself.
—Luna
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eraenaa · 26 days
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Mine
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Aemond Targaryen x Wife Reader
Synopsis: You are the best thing that has ever been Aemond’s, which is why you cannot really blame him for being so possessive and cautious not to lose you. 
Warnings: Possessiveness, Jealousy, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Fingering, Not Proofread 
Word Count: 3,193
A/N: This is based on an anonymous request where they wanted a glimpse of the married life of Aemond and Reader from my other one-shot 'But Daddy, I love him'
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They often say marriage was a duty— it was a dire chore that not many seemed to enjoy, but that sentiment was one Aemond could ever agree to because being married to you was the most pleasurable and honorable thing he had ever experienced. He thought riding his Vhagar was the purest and most gratifying experience he would ever feel, but he was proven wrong. Being with you— being your husband would be the greatest pleasure he would have the honor of knowing. 
Aemond sighed in contentment as he clutched you closer to his chest. Burying his nose atop your head as you slept soundly in his arms. It was a scene he quickly had gotten used to. It had only been three moons since your marriage, but Aemond could not recall a day where he woke with you, not in his arms. He could not recall a moment where his lips had not known the pressure or the taste of yours. Aemond refused to reminisce upon the days when you were not his.
Aemond felt his lips twitch as you huddled yourself closer to his chest, a small moan emitting from you as the wake of the morning sun slowly crept in. “Happy name day, my love,” You mumbled against Aemond’s smooth and chiseled chest, deeply inhaling his scent as you felt his arms wrap around you tighter. “My name day is not until the morrow.” He said and ran his hands through your hair. You hummed and stretched your limbs, slowly peeling your eyes open to see the handsomeness of your husband as the fresh morning sun lit his Valyrian features. “I know, but the celebrations are tonight, so I thought it would be best to greet you today as well,” You smiled and moved your head to kiss his lips. 
Aemond sighed happily when he felt your lips against his. Aemond cupped your cheek and deepened your kiss, his whole body aflame with the burning desire to be intimate with you once more. You feel his cold hand venture to the plump flesh of your behind, squeezing it roughly, making you gasp in shock. Your husband taking the opportunity of your parting lips to snake his tongue in and feel and taste you. You felt his wanting against your thigh, warm and pulsating. And though you, too, want Aemond, feeling the need for him gathering in your folds, you gently push your husband away. You bit your lip to hinder a laugh as he looked at you, lips still puckered and eye filled with question and hurt that you would deny him of your kisses. 
“We have lots to do today, husband… I am afraid we cannot indulge ourselves this morning.” You say and tried to pull away. Aemond shook his head, feeling his cock painfully seek pleasure as his eye caught your naked form being exposed as the thin sheet was removed from your frame. “It is my name day. You cannot be so cruel and deny your lord husband on the day they celebrate his birth,” Aemond reasoned, pulling on your arm and trying to capture your lips once more. You laughed, “As you’ve said, your name day is not until the morrow— now, let go of me, for I shall need to bathe,” You said and quickly pecked his lips. 
You smiled as you heard him groan and whine like a little child. You loved seeing him in such a way— when in the privy of your chambers, his stoic and imposing demeanor was shed and you could see the actuality of him. You get to enjoy his handsome smiles, his genuine laughs, and his fiery touches. But the moment you stepped foot out of the four walls of your marital chambers, he once again returned to the stony, aloof prince that he is known to be. It is saddening that the world will never know the truth of your husband. You would note how the ladies and lords at court would look at you with pity. Bound and tied to what they perceive as a cold prince, but Aemond was far from it. He was a blazing fire that kept you warm even in the coldest of nights. But you supposed it was a prestigious honor to be the few who knew of your husband’s tenderness and love. 
Your smile widened as your husband called for your name once more; you peeked your head from the wet room where a steaming bath was already waiting. “Come back to bed, my light,” Aemond called, and you shook your head. “I need to bathe,” You countered, enjoying the way his thin lips almost formed a pout. “And I need someone to wash my back as well… will you help me, dearest?” You bit your tongue as Aemond was quick to his feet and escorted the both of you to the tub. He did not waste a moment as he placed his lips against yours again. Pulling you to rest atop his chest as he leaned back against the copper tub, bare bodies tangled under the milky, scented water of the bath that was meant for only you. 
Your breathing hitched as his lips moved from your lips to the apex of your neck and shoulder, feeling as his teeth nipped the supple skin to leave his marks. Your eyes closed pleasurably as you feel your husband’s hands guide your hips so your sex could grind upon his length. “Aemond,” You sighed as you felt the tip of his cock repeatedly glide against the sensitive pearl of your cunt. “Yes, my wife?” Aemond hummed; his voice had an edge that you were growing all too familiar with. He wanted to succumb to pleasure, to be buried deep inside you, but he wanted you to beg for the pleasure he, too, was desperate for. You clenched your jaw and moved your hips, grinding upon his length with more pressure. Aemond hissed and threw his head back, you simply just watched his reactions to the pleasurable torment that both of you were enveloped in. 
Your breathing caught in your throat, and your jaw slacked as your husband abruptly entered you— you harshly sinking on his well-endowed length. Aemond’s breathing was quick to grow labored as your walls clenched around him. The only thing heard in the room was your moans, Aemond’s heavy, pleasured sighs, and the slosh of water as your husband guided you to bounce on his cock. “A…Aemond,” You called, fisting his silky, silver hair as his head dipped down to take one of your breasts into his mouth, nibbling at the bud, making you clench around him tighter. Your moans grew louder as Aemond lifted his hips to meet yours, fucking you deeper to the point that your eyes rolled back, and only incoherent words were uttered from your lips. “Fuck, look at you so pleasured by your husband… louder, little wife, I want them to hear how I pleasure you so— so early in the morning as well,” Aemond hummed and moved his hand that was on your hips to your cunt, his thumb drawing circles upon the pearl of your cunt making you moan louder, just like Aemond had wished. 
“Oh… Aemond, please! Please, please, please,” You cried, placing your hands on his shoulders as you hoisted yourself to take him deeper and harsher, feeling the bubbling need for release. The prince smirked up at you. Gods, he loved you even more when you were on the verge of coming for him; he loved how desperate and more lewd you became for him. The stifled groans Aemond held were let out when you suddenly reached behind you and cradled his sacks. He looked up at you through hooded eyes, a small smirk on your lips as you moaned his name, your tits bouncing before him as you both reached your peak. You tried to catch your breath as you rested your forehead upon your husband’s. “Well, that was most productive. Do you not think so, wife?” He teased and cupped your behind with both of his hands; you let out an amused breath and shook your head, letting him carry you out of the tub so the both of you could truly get ready for the day. 
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For the rest of the day, you were busy with the final preparations for that night’s festivities. Inspecting if everything is in perfect order for your husband’s name day. In truth, Aemond had no wish for such a grand celebration. He would rather spend his special day in the privy of your company, and usually, you would oblige your husband. However, after hearing that not once was his name day celebrated with such an event, you had to change that. You wished for him to experience the joy and festivity of a whole kingdom celebrating the day you were born. 
“Do not strain yourself, sister; it is not good for the both of you,” You hear Helaena hum as she pauses by the great hall to see how the preparations are coming. You lightly chuckle, “Aye, Aemond had been insisting for me to cancel this feast, fearing that it would burry me in work, but I do not mind it, truly.” You smiled and fixed an askew goblet on the long table. “I did not mean Aemond,” Helaena said, her voice far off, making you pause in confusion. But that confusion was quick to vanish as you heard the call of your beloved brother. “Sister!” Lucerys ran to where you stood, and you quickly enveloped your younger brother in an embrace. 
“Oh. I have missed you, sweet boy!” You beamed and held him tighter. You turned to the end of the hall and saw the other members of your family entering, them obliging your request and coming all the way from Dragonstone to attend your husband’s name day. “I’m so glad you all came,” You smiled and went to kiss your mother on her cheek. You turned to your father, who could only grunt; his animosity towards your husband was still there, but you could see it slowly fading with each moment he saw how truly happy you were to be Aemond’s wife. “We would not have missed it, my sweet girl,” Your mother smiled. “Isn’t that right, dear husband?” Your mother nudged your father, who took a deep, burdened breath before reluctantly nodding. “All your chambers have been prepared; I think it would be best if you rest before the feast… so all could be in a more cheery mood,” You turn to your father with a pointed look. “Very well then,” He sighed and kissed your temple before walking off and going to their bed chambers. 
“How has married life treated you, my sweet?” Your mother asked as you two were left alone. “I would guess it has treated you well… you look positively radiant, but I want to hear it from your lips.” She added, and your smile widened. “I… I am incandescently overjoyed, mother.” You said, and your mother lightly laughed to see the joyous glint in your eyes. “I am glad you found such happiness with Aemond,” She sighed, and you could only smile in agreement. Your smile grows wider as you see your husband across the hall, walking towards you and your mother. “Sister,” he nodded civilly, and your mother did the same. “Might I have a moment with my wife?” He asked, and you felt your body tingle as he was quick to wrap his strong arm around your waist, “Of course, I’ll see you two at the feast. Happy name day, Aemond.” Your mother said with a small smile. 
“What is it?” You asked your husband as he was guiding you towards the direction of your chambers with hastened steps. When behind closed doors, you feel his lips against yours and your bodies flushing against each other. “Nothing, I just terribly missed my wife,” He said in between breaths after parting your kiss. You laugh and lightly hit his chest. “I was with you just a few hours ago,” You said against his lips, your heart spiking as you felt his fingers sly try to undo the lace of your gown. “Stop it.” You warned, but Aemond only grinned wider, connecting your lips to distract you from his other actions. You giggled as you heard your husband whine when you pushed him away and parted your lips. “We do not have time for this, Aemond. We still have to prepare for the feast.” 
“Fuck the feats,” He said, and your eyes widened in slight offense as he dismissed the event that you had been working on tirelessly for weeks. His eye too soon widened as he saw the offense in yours. “No— I… that is not what I meant, my light.” He quickly said and cupped your cheeks. “It’s just that I… I need you.” He whispered and pecked your lips. “You just had me this morning,” You say and wrap your arms around his neck. “That was not enough… I could never have enough of you,” he smiled as your heart turned to mush and your mind turned simple by the look in his eye. You whimpered as you felt his lips on your neck, threading closer to your clavicle. It took a whole lot of control in you to push him away once more and not be tempted by the prospect of pleasure. 
“Patience, my prince,” You say as Aemond’s hands were firmly placed on your waist. “You will have me over and over and over again tonight… just as long as you be patient,” You whispered, watching as his lilac eye turned dark at your words. “Just be obliging and welcoming to our guests until the feast ends, and you and I could be locked here in our chambers, drowning in pleasure until the next moon if you so wish.” You added, and you watched as he gulped. Aemond searched your eyes and only saw seriousness to back your words. “Very well,” He said and felt his heart stutter as you went to the tip of your toes to peck his lips. 
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Aemond was trying earnestly to appear cheery and obliging to the guests. He had been nodding ceaselessly to the guests who came and greeted him and offered their gifts. It was useless. He had no need for their things— he had everything he needed. He had shelter, food, the tiltyard, and most importantly, you. He had no care for the gold-threaded eye-patch house Lannister presented him nor the new stallion his mother’s house gave. All he cared about and wanted was a prolonged moment of privacy with you, where your attentions were not divided between him and the guests. 
Aemond’s jaw ticked as he saw a past suitor of yours approaching where the two of you sat. Aemond knew that he should not house doubts or insecurities about such matters. He was certainly the higher being. He was an unparalleled warrior; he was a prince; he was your husband. Jealousy is a pitiful, lesser motion that he should not entertain but could not help but do so when it comes to you. He could not help himself as he felt the fiery rage in him only grow with each moment you spoke with your past suitor. It took everything in him not to stab the irrelevant lord alive when he dared make you laugh. Aemond only saw red and was one hair away from beheading the lord as he had the gull to lead out his hand and ask you for a dance. He remembered at the first days of your marriage, even just the lingering look of any of the lords, squires, and even his brothers would cause him to grow enraged to the point he was ready to challenge those punny men. It took great restraint in him not to let his insecurities show through with the times you had to innocently speak with other men, bestowing them with your attention, warm smile, and melodious laughs.
Aemond’s fists clenched around nothing as he felt your expecting stare upon him. You silently waited for his approval that you were certain he would not deny, for it was only a dance. Aemond had promised you that he’d be obliging that night, that he would at least show a grain of warmness towards the lords and ladies, so, however difficult it was, your husband nodded. But Aemond soon regretted his decision as his eye zeroed in on the hold your past suitor had on you. His mind cruelly conjured an alternative life where you were not his but, instead, bound to that lord. He could not stomach to just think of the thought that you were not his wife and lady. He felt vile rising in his throat at the possibility that if the gods were not on his side that fateful day of the tourney for your hand, you would have been married to another, and Aemond would had no choice but to watch you be someone else’s wife. 
Aemond made hastened steps to where you and the lord danced and took his rightful place. “My prince… the song has not ended yet,” the lord had the gull to reason, and Aemond’s jaw clenched. “I have obliged you enough; do not overstep your bounds, my lord. Now, remove your hold from my wife.” He gritted, eye widening in fury. His expression is scarily serious, frightening away the lord. You smiled up at your husband as you felt his familiar and soothing touch upon your skin. 
“I had expected you to deny him of his first request,” You say to Aemond in ancient tongue. You watch him raise his brow in question and skepticism. “Really? It would seem that you had enjoyed his company.” You bit your lip at his words. “Do I sense jealousy, my dear prince?” You asked, tone riddled with tease. Aemond rolled his eye and shook his head, denying that he had succumbed to such a lowly emotion such as jealousy. You felt your lips twitch into a smile as your husband avoided your gaze as you two swayed to the tune of the dance.  You sighed and brought your palm to move his head to face you and for your eyes to lock. “The only company I truly enjoy is yours. You, my dear husband, are the only thing I want.” You say with a beaming smile. Aemond felt his heart and breathing stutter at the radiant smile on your lips and the sincerity in your voice. He sighed in contentment and placed a chaste kiss atop your head. He wished for deeper intimacy, but he could not do so as you two were still before the eyes of the court. 
“Do you wish to retire for the night?” You asked as the song ended, and Aemond eagerly nodded his head at you, making you laugh as he practically dragged you out the hall and back into the bed chambers to finally celebrate his name day in the way he wished. 
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Other fics in this universe: But Daddy, I Love Him (Prequel) and King of My Heart (Sequel)
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Note
Alr hear me out, the service top lucifer with a very insecure reading. (Fem or GN) like he has to coax the reader to like open up (God damn I'm blushing thinking abt it-). Maybe even having to like talk them into even taking thier clothes off. Just a little idea stuck in my head.
Thank you very muchly.
Ooooooohh you’re giving me IDEAS (tbh I’d be the same boat)
~~~~
✨Opening Up✨
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Lucifer x f!reader
Warnings: 18+, smut, nipple play, pet names, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, service top!Lucifer
It has become evident that I am unable to write anything concise 😅
I’M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I MEANT TO POST THIS DAYS AGO 😭😭
Tag list: @trashbin-nie
@yellowsubiesdance
@j-jinxee
@stevensdickrider
@airwolf92
@mrssabinecallas
@myhornybrainonlyknowsthis
@bee-sinner
@thesoccerenthusiast
@katshyperfixations
@logybearsblog
@bigfatbimbo
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You sat upright on Lucifer’s king sized bed, the King of Hell straddling your lap. You don't know how you even ended up in this position, not on this bed necessarily, but how you ended up as Lucifer's beloved. You believed in your heart that you did not deserve him, but time and time again Lucifer has showered you with praise and adoration like no one ever had before. He was perfect. And you were...you. It didn't make sense.
Regardless, that didn't stop him from holding your face tenderly in his hands while he kissed you with a fiery passion. You were self conscious about being so vocal around him during intimacy, but he made it his mission to elicit as many moans and whines from you as possible. Slowly, he reached down to the hem of your sleep shirt, grabbing a fistful of fabric. Your eyes popped open, your mind racing. You pulled away from his lips and went to grab his wrist that held your clothing.
"I-I'm sorry, love," he apologized, releasing your shirt immediately. You sighed and let go of the grip you had on his hand. "I didn't mean to scare you, I should have asked. Please forgive me."
"No, no," you breathed, "it's alright. I'm not upset, I just panicked. I'm sorry."
Lucifer pressed his lips to your forehead and planted a small kiss. "Please don't ever think you need to apologize to me for how you feel, sweetheart."
"O-Ok," you stuttered.
"Do you want to stop?," Lucifer asked. You could hear the genuine concern in his voice. Hard as it was to believe, he cared about you more than anything.
You shook your head. "No."
"You're sure?," Lucifer questioned further, "because if you're uncomfortable, we can-"
You cut him of mid-sentence with a quick peck to his lips. He smiled bashfully, a cute blush spreading across his face. "Believe me, Luci, I want this. I mean I really want this, but..." you found it difficult to articulate what you wanted to say.
"Well, if that's the case darling, what if I go first then?," Lucifer proposed. You cocked your head, unsure of what he was talking about. He reached up and began to unbutton his shirt, starting from the top and working his way down. Oh...OH.
Your face instantly feels hotter and your breathing becomes staggered. You tried to say something, but the words caught in your throat. Your mouth had never felt drier. He finally reached the last button of his shirt and you finally see some of his chest. You could almost feel your brain short circuiting.
"Do you wanna do the honors, my dear?," he asked playfully. You gulped as your hands reached towards his shoulders. Gingerly, you slid his sleeves down each arm, slowly revealing more and more skin to you. Once his shirt was completely removed, you couldn’t help but stare. His chest was so smooth and toned, almost like it had been sculpted. “Like what you see?” Lucifer questioned coyly, noticing your unwavering expression of awe.
"W-Well that's hardly fair," you whispered, finally finding your voice, "you're an actual angel. Of course you're going to be gorgeous, I-" you slapped your hand over your mouth once you realized what you had said. "Please pretend you didn't hear that!," you begged through your hand.
Lucifer's face was flushed pink, he could help but smile. He chuckled as he went to remove your hand from your face. "Is that what you really think about me, sweetheart? I'm truly flattered to hear that coming from someone as exquisite as you."
"You...You really think..." you started to say but couldn't finish. Tears began to well up in your eyes, you tried to rub them away before Lucifer could see but it was too late. Lucifer cupped your face and ran his thumbs under your eyes to clear away the tears that had fallen. Your breath hitched, you tried to take in deep heavy breaths so you wouldn't start sobbing.
“Hey, hey, hey, shhhhh,” he spoke with a soothing tone. He removed himself from your lap and sat down next to you, embracing you in his arms. “It’s okay, angel, it’s ok. I upset you and I’m sorry, I never want to be the reason you cry.” He rested his head on top of yours while you clung to his chest. The scent of him hit your nostrils, it was like breathing in a warm spring day. Purely intoxicating. It calmed you down, you started to breathe normally again. You felt safe in his arms, you could have stayed there for the rest of your life.
You wrapped your arms around his torso, your tears finally drying. “Thank you, Lucifer,” you murmured. He gave you a tight squeeze before you lifted yourself back up, sitting at his hip and leaving your head on his shoulder. “You weren’t the reason I was sad, you know? You never have been.”
Lucifer turned his head to you, “Really? Then why-?”
“Because I’m afraid,” you quickly responded. “I’m afraid that I’m not good enough for you. That I never will be. You’re the all mighty Lucifer, King of Hell. You have so much strength and power and respect. And I’m…I’m just me.” You sighed and pulled your legs up to your chest to rest your head on your knees. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
“Darling?,” Lucifer spoke at last. He brought himself in front of you on all fours and placed his hand under your chin, forcing you to look at him in his scarlet eyes. “ “Just you” is perfect. You don’t need to be anything but yourself! I understand what you’re feeling, and it’s okay to express that. But please know that I love you just the way you are. You are my true strength.”
You chuckled softly, leaning into his hand that was now pressed against your cheek. You took his words to heart; he loved you. He loved you so much. You had to show him that you felt the same way. You drew in a few quick and deep breaths before reaching for the hem of your sleep shirt.
“Wait, wait, what are you-” Lucifer tried to say, but you were too fast. Your shirt disappeared from your body and was tossed across the room. Silence filled the space, the only thing you could hear was your heart threatening to burst through your chest.
It was at that moment you noticed you couldn’t see Lucifer’s face. His hands had flown up to block his view of you.
“Lucifer?” you called to him.
“Y-You didn’t have to do that, love,” he stuttered. “I never wanted you to feel that you had to-”
“Please look at me, Luci,” you pleaded. “I love you. And I trust you. Let me show you. Please.”
You saw Lucifer’s hands slowly fall away from his hands, his eyes still screwed shut. “Are you sure?” he asked softly.
You leaned in to plant a kiss on his soft lip. Lucifer’s eyes shot open in surprise, you pulled away before he had a chance to react. Blood rushed to your cheeks when you saw him staring at you. Your first instinct was to cover yourself and shy away, but you pushed those feelings deep down. You were going to be vulnerable, you needed to be brave. Not just for him, but for yourself. You gripped the bed sheets so hard that you felt your nails digging into your skin through the silk.
After what seemed like an eternity, Lucifer had snapped out of his trance. He started to crawl towards you on his hands and knees, only stopping when his lips were inches away from your own. You felt his hot breath on you, you were finding it more and more difficult to keep your composure.
“You…are breathtaking,” he cooed, crashing his lips into yours hungrily. His tongue begged for entrance to your mouth, and you happily allowed it. You felt yourself slowly drifting down onto your back as you and Lucifer desperately devoured each other. He pulled away from your lips, trying to catch his breath, but you noticed he wasn’t looking into your eyes. His attention had drifted a little further down. He swallowed hard.
“May I?,” Lucifer asked breathlessly. Your face felt extremely hot and you couldn’t find the power to speak, so instead you nodded your head vigorously. He gave you a cheeky grin before lowering his mouth down onto one of your nipples. The noise you made sounded more high pitched than you meant it, but God, did it feel amazing! His tongue worked one nipple as his hand played with the other. You loved the sensation of him sucking and licking at your sensitive skin, the tiny bites from his teeth driving you insane. He rolled your other nipple between his two fingers, the pinches he gave sent your brain into overdrive. You never knew how sensitive you were, but Lucifer was more than happy to service you.
All of a sudden you noticed a different sensation, you felt something press against your inner thigh, dangerously close to your clothed pussy. It took your brain a few seconds to realize what was happening.
“Uhh, Lucifer, a-are you…”, you mumbled. Lucifer looked up from your chest with a puzzled face. “I can feel umm, I-I can feel your uhh…”, you didn’t know why you couldn’t say it. Maybe you were too embarrassed, which seemed silly considering what position you found yourself in. You pointed down towards your pants where Lucifer was wedged.
“Oh…OH,” Lucifer exclaimed pushing himself from you and onto his knees. “Oh my gosh, I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you could uhh, feel that…please forgive me!”
Seeing him so flustered somehow calmed some of the nerves you had before. It was cute, really. Demon overlord Lucifer getting embarrassed about unintentionally pushing his hard on against your thigh. You let out a small giggle.
"It's alright, Luci," you chuckled. "I'm flattered, really!"
Lucifer smiled, placing his hand behind him to rub the back of his neck. "I'm still sorry about that, love. I'm a little embarrassed."
“Well,” you breathed, “I guess it’s only fair that I embarrass myself too then, right?” Without warning, you grabbed the waistband of your pants and ripped them off along with your panties in one fell swoop. You laid naked in front of Lucifer, whose whole face had turned a shade of red you’ve never seen before.
“Ffffuck,” was all Lucifer could muster. You watched his Adam’s apple rise and fall, attempting to regain his thoughts. Looking at you, it was plain to see how soaked you were.
“Like what you see?,” you teased. Lucifer nodded his head eagerly, still at a loss for words. You lifted your hand and curled your finger, beckoning him to you. Obediently, Lucifer crawled on the bed towards you with no reservations. “You’re not the only one that’s worked up here. Now we’re even.”
“My love, please…” Lucifer whined, “please let me taste you.”
"Don't you...wanna get more comfortable first?," you asked him, knowing the problem in his pants had probably only gotten worse for him.
"Not until I've had my fill of you, sweetheart," he smiled before forcing his head between your legs. The moan you let out was guttural, almost feral, he lapped your folds like a starving man. He took long, drawn out licks up your slit before focusing on your clit. His lips kissed and sucked on your sensitive nub, sending waves of pleasure throughout you entire body. You couldn't pull away if you tried, he had wrapped his arms under your legs so you couldn't escape his assault on your cunt.
"Sh-shit, oh-oh my God Lucifer, FUCK," you moaned. You could feel a smile form on his face as this seemed to have made him pick up the pace. You screamed from his tongue darting in and out of you, feeling so close to snapping. Your thighs started to fold in on his head and you grabbed a fistful of his hair trying to regain some assemblance of control. “Fuckfuckfuck, mmmm…gonna c-cum, aaggghh, gonnacumgonnacum!” Lucifer’s tongue relentlessly circling your clit finally caused your body to spasm, your orgasm causing you to scream out in pleasure. Lucifer didn’t stop though, he let you ride out your orgasm and hungrily devoured your release. Once you finally came down from your high, Lucifer lifted his face from between your legs and flashed you a toothy grin, seemingly quite proud of his work.
“You alright, darling?,” he asked innocently, almost pretending like he wasn’t the cause of what you had just experienced.
“Y-yeah, I’m…I’m fine,” you breathed. “Just…Jesus, that was intense! Give me a little warning before you go all in on me like that again!”
Lucifer laughed. “I’m sorry, love, I couldn’t help myself.”
You rolled your eyes at him playfully. “Oh, I’m sure you couldn’t. Now, let’s get these off you, hmm?,” you said tugging at his pants.
Lucifer stood up from the bed quickly. He undid his belt and let his pants drop to the floor. From the outlines of his briefs, you were surprised that they could contain him at all. Before he could pull at the hem, you jumped off the bed to stop him.
“Allow me,” you offered, getting on your knees in front of him. You reached up and grabbed onto his briefs, snaking them down his legs. His cock sprang free of its cage and hung in front of your face, its tip already leaking. Without thinking, your wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. Lucifer let out a moan that you’ve never heard before, filled with absolute lust and need. You took one of your hands and grabbed the base of his shaft, slowly stroking up and down while your mouth continued to work on his head. You ran small licks against the slit, tasting and lapping all of the precum that was forming. You loved the taste of him.
“Love…f-fuck,” Lucifer panted, trying to fight through his moans, “if you don’t s-stop now, I-I’m gonna cum. I wanna…wanna feel you. P-Please…”
Reluctantly, you pulled your mouth away from his cock with a *pop*, pouting slightly. Lucifer leaned down to grab your torso and tossed you onto the bed like you were made of paper mache. That angelic strength of his always caught you off guard. Lucifer crept between your legs, planting a tender kiss on your lips.
“I promise,” he whispered against your lips, “next time you can finish what you started, but right now I need you. Need to feel you.” Lucifer brought his fingers to your needy cunt, feeling the slickness of your folds. Your breath caught in your throat at the sensation. He took his other hand and lined up the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Are you ready, my angel?,” he asked softly.
You grinned and nodded your head. With that, Lucifer closed the space between you once more with a fiery kiss as his cock entered you inch by inch. Your cries mixed with his as he finally entered you completely.
“You feel…amazing, darling, fuck…” Lucifer choked out. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” you murmured, “I-I’m okay. You can move.”
“Anything for you,” he smiled. Lucifer slowly began to rock his hips into you, his cock filling you up completely with each thrust. You could feel every inch of him ruining your pussy, hitting just the right spot every time. It didn’t take long for his pace to become erratic and uneven. He buried his cock deep inside you, both of your moans filling the room.
“Lu-Lucifer, o-oh shit, Lucifer, I-I’m so close,” you pleaded. “Please don’t stop, p-please don’t.”
“Cum for me, darling. Wanna feel you cum.” Lucifer groaned. He bit down on your should as he continued to pound into you, biting and sucking your tender skin. You were shaking, he was going too fast, you were coming undone.
“Cuminme…FUCKCUMINME,” you screamed and wrapped your legs around him as your orgasm flooded over you. You felt your walls pulsating around his cock, it was too much for Lucifer to handle. You heard him cry out and felt him twitch inside you, filling you up with his hot cum.
Coming down from your highs, you both laid there for a moment trying to catch your breath. You played with Lucifer’s hair as he laid across your chest, completely worn out. A minute or two passed before Lucifer sat up and pulled himself out of you. He laid down next to you, staring at your flushed face.
“Are you alright?,” he asked. “Did I hurt you at all?”
“No, you didn’t hurt me,” you smiled. “That felt…really good. Thank you, for everything.”
Lucifer hummed and leaned up to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “No, thank you, love.”
You chuckled returning the kiss. “Would…you mind if I held you, Luci?”
Lucifer’s eyes widened, but he smiled wide. “Of course not, I’d love nothing more.”
Lucifer rolled on his side, giving you the chance to push your body against his back and wrap your arms around him. You both didn’t move until the morning.
~~~~
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Hope you enjoyed my second attempt at NSFW content lmaooooo
AND YEAH I MADE HIM THE LITTLE SPOON, IT’S WHAT HE WOULD WANT
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