#feast of the redeemer

[ilynpilled]

I feel like as the resident dishonor/honor guy enjoyer I have to speak on honor as a construct and how it seems to operate in asoiaf in my eyes. I will be stating the obvious here imo but: violence IS inherent to it. Be it directly or through the enablement of it. “Honor”, as a feudalistic moral construct, revolves around the reinforcement of a status quo. It is a moral construct that is embedded into a feudalistic structure, one that is inherently violent. It can be deeply flawed and destructive as a result of deeply rooted systemic issues. Being “honorable” is very complicated because, again, it does not exist based on a very sensible moral framework. It ends up contradicting itself because the way society is structured in Westeros.

Almost nothing embodies this more clearly than the KG. They are supposed to be the paragons of honor: an unsoiled white cloak.

Vows are social contracts this society is built on. This is why Jaime is very restricted in a lot of ways in his world by his label. Breaking one of the most important contracts (one that happens to be key in reinforcing a feudalistic structure: it places the king’s will above every single other moral or ethical code) makes it so he is not believed or trusted and he is unable to operate properly within their society in a lot of circumstances, as we witness in his chapters. It is honorable to protect the weak and the innocent, but it is honorable to protect your king in all circumstances and reinforce a status quo. To obey your family and play your societal role. To obey laws, even if they are unjust. To keep your word, to be honest. Loyalty to a tyrant has to be inherently more honorable (especially in certain positions) to maintain this status quo, even though it contradicts other oaths and we know it is inherently immoral. Balancing values is the most interesting aspect of characters dealing with ‘honor’ and morality. Feudalism is what makes the honor system collapse. Honor itself can be a more vague concept, “the quality of knowing and doing what is morally right”, but the way it is defined and how it operates within this society is so fucked. The KG appear in the weirwood dream (mirroring the imagery of The Others, conflating the honorable white cloak with snow and cold and death.) “You swore to keep your king safe” “and the children as well.” Yeah, the innocent children of kingslanding as well, that would have burned to ash. It is honorable to save your king, to protect the weak, to save the children, to save the innocents of KG, to obey your father. He tells this to them in the dream, he explains his reasoning for killing Aerys, but they do not budge. That is what Jaime fears the most, the complete collapse of everything that holds meaning to him, heroism becoming undefinable with these conflicting moral codes, which is likely another huge part of him keeping it a secret. It is something he feels powerless against. The way things are prioritized is wrong. Morality becomes skewed. In Jaime’s mind the enemy and primary source of doom is this nonsensical moral construct that contradicts itself represented by institutions that make no sense. It is what makes his symbolic fire go out. His moral code conflicts with this society’s code of ethics, which eventually leads him to cynically accept amorality. It is disillusionment that tears the idea of heroism and being “honorable” apart and leads to moral nihilism.

Another aspect of the honor code and its violence is the fact that it places more value to individuals based on class. It is dependent on class and a flawed social structure. This is despite the fact that vows of knighthood call for the protection of those that are too weak to protect themselves: the underprivileged. Jaime keeps having this epiphany of an inherent equality in death that seems to contradict the way society is structured. Aerys’ life is worth inherently more according to the honor code than Rhaella’s, than the lives of thousands of innocents, than Jaime’s. Yet, a lowborn hand, no one, seems to die harder than Aerys does (and nobody cares). A crown is worth nothing when crows feast on victors and vanquished alike, and the rightful heir himself. We are all equal in death, so the text is indicating that something is not right here.

When it comes to characters and their relationship with honor the important through-line is examining whether they are being “honorable” in the abstract sense, if they base their actions around empathy and a sense of actual justice, or if they are abiding by made up flawed constructs. Being viewed as honorable by this society does not make you a good person. In fact, in order for you to abide by the honor code you would likely have to turn into an amoral individual. For example, if you try to keep the cloak pure white you will metaphorically soil it. Like every one of Aerys’s kingsguard did. To keep their oath to the king, they broke vows to protect innocents and protect women. They should lose their honor by a lot of definitions, but that would mean the status quo collapses. Jaime’s knighting for this reason is very much like a boy being sacrificed at an altar. It is not just about drawing a parallel between young girls and boys being sentenced to bloody doom by violent constructs created for their gender.

“Blood is the seal of our devotion.” He bleeds on his plain white tunic. It was never “pure white”, it was always all tainted in blood. It is inherently violent. You can argue that is when “the boy died.”

Very rigid and hypocritical honor codes built for feudalism lack nuance and lead to amorality. I think George aims to address, interrogate, deconstruct, and then reconstruct honor, as with most other key concepts present in fantasy. Honor can be redefined. Examples like “No chance, and no choice”, among many others, are at the root of that reconstruction. Even then, the reconstruction does not conflate it with pacifism necessarily. For example, Chelsted did the ‘honorable’ thing, in the abstract moral sense, of quitting his job and not supporting a tyrant anymore, but that act achieved nothing in preventing the wildfire plot. Same with essentially everyone important at court abandoning the situation that is Aerys, turning away from a gaping wound and not addressing it before it was too late. Jaime had to soil the ‘white cloak’ and disrupt the status quo and lose his “honor” within those terms by murdering his king and his pyromancers as a kingsguard and actually save half a million lives. It was not glorious, nor was it anything like the songs, and the city is still doomed because there is no way to get that festering corruption out of there at this point, metaphorical of the greater problem with KG, but it was heroism, a choice with meaning, and a form of triumph, even if the consequences break Jaime down the line. He gets no answer to the question of what it means to be a knight and a man of honor if society’s version of it is so skewed. Then, Jaime and the readers get an answer in the form of Brienne: “I dreamed of you.”

#anyways what is honor? a horse #valyrianscrolls #theres also the aspect that honor is kind of individualized #its ‘your’ honor etc #like i think there r nuances in whether its treated as something internal or external #and at the end of asos hope is rekindled in jaime #but he desperately blinds himself trying to make the contradictions compromise #thats y he is suddenly reconstructing his thoughts about the kg and escapes int delusion #bc he has too many things that he still wants like cersei like his family and loved ones like the possibility of making ppl view him #as something redeemable someone good #but feast concludes that that is not possible #so all there is left is a pivot and brienne’s light #and a confrontation w so many things that have been repressed in order to keep him from essentially killing himself tbh #and nothing encapsulates that dilemma bw honor vs ‘honor’ than jaimes punitive justice against outlaws and his vow to cat #thats y its so significant that he abandons it to go w brienne alone to save sansa instead of pursuing the blackfish #and how he doesnt torch the village or even break in even if they hold info re the brotherhood #and then the irony is that that key choice will lead him to them #and what happens there is gonna be so interesting

[lemuseum]

#Ferruccio Scattola (1873-1950) - The Feast of the Redeemer in Venice

[circeyoru]

Unwanted Soul _ Part 5 = Requested

[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]

The Request

Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 (here)

How you had such a depressing life was beyond Alastor. He didn’t understand it. Can’t comprehend it! But he pushed these questions back to tend to your sadden mood, tucking you in and lulling you to sleep

Alastor sat next to your sleeping form, the room pitch black save for his glowing red eyes that pierced through the darkness. His staff played soft music to calm you down and fill the silence of the room. The only tears you should be shredding are ones of joy and happiness 

The people you’ve mentioned, surely they were in Hell as well. They can’t be in Heaven for causing you such torment. He can’t let you see them, any of them. He needs to get to them first. However, for now, he can’t leave you alone in such a state

His eyes closed as he thought out how he’d torture them. Perhaps skinning them till they beg for mercy and your forgiveness? Pulling out their limbs and draining their blood? Letting the cannibals partake in a feast? No, no, he had to enjoy this. They were your tormentors when you were alive, he’ll show you that he can and will be your protector, even a guarddog if he must

But his heinous thoughts were put to a hold when you shifted in your sleep. He pushed away his thoughts while he watched your serene form rest. He put away his monocle, laying beside you and gently pull you closer to him so he was hugging you to his chest. His eyes drooped close. Perhaps he should let those unfortunate souls enjoy Hell a bit longer. If they crossed his path or yours, their voice will be on his everlasting broadcast

When things got slow for you, you found yourself hanging out with the hotel residents at times. They were an interesting bunch to say the least

Charlie was always happy to see you and would invite you on her little activities and exercises to redeem sinners. Though you’d mostly decline unless it catches your interest in some way. On the rare chance you join, she was very appreciative of your presence and wasn’t shy to thank you for joining in front of everyone. Her cheerful attitude was a bit of a hit and miss for you

There was one exercise that got you sharing something you’ve almost forgot

“Okay! Last two to share! Who’s going first?” Charlie beamed

“I’ll go first, My Darling needs all the time to recall!” Alastor directed the attention to him. “My joy in my hay day is my murders. Oh how I felt the rush when chasing my victims, hunting them like prey in the woods. The warmth of their body fading the moment I repeated stabbed my trusty blade into their weak bodies. The—”

“Okay, okay, you can shut it with the creepy killing. Sheesh.” Vaggie interrupted with a groan. She turned to you who was still in a daze, completely unfazed with what Alastor said. “You ready to go?”

“Huh? Oh, okay.” You snapped out of your daydream, unconsciously, your hand patted on your book that was strapped to your hip. “My joy when I was alive… I barely remember it, but I loved going to the library and read all the books I can.”

“That’s surprisingly cute considering you’re with that freaky smil—” Angel’s mouth was immediately shut with the slap of Alastor’s staff

You continued without flinching, this was all a normal banter between the two already now that you were hanging out with the crew more. “I frequent the library, borrowing and finishing a stack of books everyday. The librarian would recommend me new books or save me my favourite corner. I can even eat and drink in the library just because.”

Charlie’s head tilted, “So you love reading.”

“Not just reading. I love books of all kinds. Sometimes I rad that book just cause I liked the texture or the shape of it. I collect books and keep it like treasures. I hate lending books to other because they don’t care for it like I do.” You fondly smiled at the memory, “Then I got a bunch of notebooks too, because I love the design or the cover.”

Lucifer leaned back into his chair, “No wonder your powers are centered around books.”

“Better call you bookworm now! Hahahaa—” Angel was hit by two cranes, one from Alastor and another from Lucifer. Charlie, Vaggie, and Husk flinched with a face twisted to pain as if they felt that. Niffty was living in the moment, wanting one too

Husk gulped some alcohol, “You better shut that loud mouth of yours if you know what’s good for you.”

Everyone laughed and chuckled, Charlie concluding that it was a good exercise and bonding time since everyone was in attendance. Alastor got up and offered you his hand, bringing you two back to your room. You stayed out of it, being in a daze again

When Alastor asked if you were fine, you smiled and said you were fine, if you needed anything, he would be the first you’d call for. So he left you alone

You didn’t tell them. You were that absorbed into reading that you didn’t realize you were being bullied, you were used. You shared your dream of wanting to be a writer that people would love to read what you wrote and share it with friends, to entertain others. You shared your ideas with your friend but your ideas were stolen from you

The moment you handed in your writing, the publishing company said they had one already and that yours was not up-to-date. They rejected your writing. Days later, you saw the newest novel on sell. The title was so similar to yours that you checked the summary at the back. That was your story idea. But your work was rejected so how was it published?

Your nightmare came to life. A betrayal so painful and chilling. Your friend’s name was on the cover. You remember your hands shaking. It wasn’t rage you felt, it was disbelief and sadness. The trust you gave, the care you gave, and the attention you gave. It was all to stab you in the back

You watched from behind the screens at the achievement and success that should have been yours. All of it, it should have been yours to smile upon. But then you were crying and shutting yourself behind the world of fantasy, an escape from reality

Why? Why? Why!

Closing your eyes for a moment, you locked up those memories. They don’t mean much to you now. Not when you had Alastor with you and an unlikely friendship with Lucifer the King of Hell himself, then there was the silly demons of this hotel. Ironic how you found true friends in demons

That’s why when you saw Mimzy again in the hotel, you were skeptical and burning with rage. She had someone as amazing and caring as Alastor to call as a friend, but she’s abusing it without a care. How she has the guts to come back and ask for Alastor, you have no idea, though you’ve seen her kind when you were alive

“You’re a new soul!” Mimzy’s voice made you want to throw glass or grip something until it broke. “Hey, I’m talking to you!”

“What do you want?” You eyed down at Mimzy with a bored expression

She let out a sound akin to ‘uww’ with a face of disgust. “You’re never gonna get your lucky someone with that attitude.”

Your eye twitched, “I never said I was.”

Mimzy gave you a fake shocked look, “Really? I thought you were going for Alastor!”

You groaned, heading over to the bar to ask Husk for something to drink (not alcohol) because you didn’t want this annoyance to follow you to your room

“Hey,” Mimzy sat next to you without asking, “You know what Alastor’s like when he’s upstairs?”

You ignored her, but your face of silent rage was enough to get her to continue

“You don’t know. He’s a realy lady’s killer! Not literally, but you get what I mean. Girls and ladies throw themselves at him and he doesn’t even bat them an eye. A nice wave and a dashing smile, then he leaves them high and dry! Oh, the broken hearts he had was definitely more than his body count and that’s something!” Mimzy laughed at the end

What’s that got to do with you? You thought to yourself as you aggressive sipped on your drink. Husk eyed you two while cleaning some glass to appear like he was busy. You’ll maybe admit, you were a bit envious of Mimzy that she got to see Alastor when he was alive, you wonder how he looked. Not like you were going to ask

Mimzy endlessly talked bad about Alastor behind his back. What happened to trying to apologise and wanting to make up? No idea, down the drain at this point. As the others around you wonder why you were still humouring the chatty demon, you were wondering the same. Why are you just sitting here and listening to all this?

“You should shut it, can’t you see you’re the only one talking here?” Husk spoke up, indirectly telling Mimzy to just leave you alone

“Aww, and you should do your job, bar cat.” Mimzy teased back. “I’m given this poor soul some attention cause Alastor’s too high of a standard to give some.”

“Ha! Jokes on you. This hot stu— I mean, cutie here’s always got smile’s attention.” Angel inserted himself into the conversation, climbing over the bar to stand next to Husk

You got up, “This is a waste of time.”

Mimzy faked another gasp, “No way. You poor poor thing. You actually fell for him of all people of this hellhole?” She got so close in your face and not to mention your personal space, “I understand why, but! Ha! That’s just bad luck! You’re bound to get your heart broken like all those poor ladies before you.”

Before you said anything, Husk’s wing separated Mimzy from you, “You really need to shut the hell up before you regret it.”

“You shut it fur ball! I ain’t talkin’ to you.” Mimzy snapped at Husk

Deciding that it was not worth your time, you started walking away. This was drama you didn’t want to be involved in and you didn’t want Alastor catching this happening since he sees Mimzy as a friend still

“The hotel won’t allow this.” Charlie tried to establish order and break things off

“Alastor will leave you in the dirt worse than whatever you were before once he’s had his fun with you! You might think you’re on cloud 9 now, but you’re going to be in a world of pain and hurt soon enough.” Mimzy continued, completely ignoring Charlie and Husk’s words

With each step you took, she continued as if singing a song, “Alastor only like things that entertains him. He never commits. He never cares. He doesn’t even have a heart to care! He’s so powerful because he has no room for ridicious things like love. The love he has is only for himself. Alastor is just a selfish heartless motherf—”

“Shut up!” You turned to her, a deep scowl on your face

“This is gonna be good.” Lucifer whispered to the others watching, “But bad for her. Yeah.”

“Shut you annoying f- mouth.” You snapped, unaware that your hair leviated a bit from your rage. “You don’t know how lucky you are to have a friend like Alastor. Alive and dead. But what do you do? You use Alastor’s name just for the fun of it and for your benefit. You just use it! How can you use your friendship with him like this! What’s wrong with your stupid tiny head?! In Hell, you’re supposed to treasure what you have. Not abuse it.”

Mimzy scoffed, “You think you’re so good? So righteous. Well, you would have been up there, now wouldn’t you. Don’t think you’re any better.” She smirked, “In Hell, we use everything and anything to our advantage.” Another gasp came and she covered her mouth, “Oh wait, could it be?” She got close to you, “Haha, you being so defensive and triggered by all this. You really actually did fall for him.”

“I love him.”

“Wait? Couldn’t hear you, sugar—”

“I love Alastor.” You repeated firmly and loudly

“What was that?”

Getting annoyed, you turned to the direction where the question came from. Perhaps it was all this anger in your system that made you slow to realize, “I said,” That you were now face to face with Alastor. “I love you!”

Note: This part's major focus has been mentioned in an ask already. And since it's confirmed that you and Alastor are dating in the latest asks and requests, I'm putting this scene in more detail since asks are trivia for the story

P.S. There's something new planned for future chapters~ Remember that lover and friend mentioned? OCs might be appearing cause I can't do rando short forms. Still thinking... You're thoughts? Or should I just end this series?

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

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@crowleysthings

@donustellaron

@mistpurpl3

@nevermore-ramblings 

@justboredforreal 

@youroneandonlysimp 

@falsemain

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#Circe's Nighty Writings #Circe's requested writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul

[doulafaith]

The Sounds of the Trumpet

The Sounds of the Trumpet

Matthew 24: 30-31 “Then will appear in heaven the sign of the Son of Man, and then all the tribes of the earth will mourn, and they will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory. And he will send out his angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather his elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other.” Matthew 24:30-31 Scripture…

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#Feast of Trumpets #God&039;s Grace #God&039;s Wrath #How will Jesus Appear #Matthew 24: 30-31 #Redeemed #The Trumpet Blast #Who can be saved?

[harleehazbinfics]

Mine, all mine.

a lucifer x reader fanfiction.

inspired by this ask: link

wc: 1728

warning: suggestive themes!!

a/n: sometimes i wish i could just give the program my brain and let it write itself. my ass is not suited for writing at extensive periods of time in one sitting.

You were a sinner, made to rot in hell for all of eternity until exorcist end your miserable souls. However, you refused to lead that fate. You disliked how other demons would underestimate you just because of how weak and fragile you looked, especially with your wings. So, you improvised, you took this to your advantage, eventually one-by-one overlords toppled over from your powers, becoming your servants or souls you feasted on. You never sought to purge sinners or become an overlord in the process for that matter, it was just that you heavily disliked being underestimated by these narcissistic souls, that you couldn’t help but put them in their place.

After decades of doing the same thing over and over again, you decided you wanted something different to do, other than manipulating and devouring retched souls all the time. With Alastor’s recommendation, you find yourself in Hell’s Hazbin Hotel, a hotel that aims to rehabilitate sinners and help them go to heaven. You didn’t oppose to the idea and if there would be sinners that find this their calling, then you’d like to support them in their endeavors, unlike your pal Alastor. Besides, it would be a free meal if some jackass just wanted to stir up some trouble with both of you around.

So, that’s what you led you here to this moment.

“—and this is (y/n), our other host, they’ve been helping with the hotel just a few months ago, despite being a busy overlord and all,” Charlie introduces you to each other.

“It’s a pleasure to meet the King of Hell himself. How do you do, my lord?” you greet with a polite smile after dipping your head in acknowledgement.

However, everything flew past Lucifer’s head when he saw your figure. You had a pleasant aura with an angelic face paired with bright beautiful wings that had him thrown in a loop. You had a kind and gentle gaze, lips a luscious shade of pink and cheeks full of life. You were simply ethereal—you didn’t look like you were from hell. You perfectly fit the standard for heaven’s angels and their winners.

“Uhh, dad?”

“Yeah, huh?!” Lucifer startles awake from his daydreaming and pays attention to his daughter. Finally realizing he was on a balcony with Charlie and Vaggie, a long way from where he was lost in thought.

“So, what do you think?” Charlie asks expectantly holding her hands together.

“Uh, yeah yeah. They look great. Say, who was that little friend you had there down there, are they also an angel?” he asks straightforwardly with a finnicky undertone.

“What? (Y/n)? No, they’re an overlord here in hell and our host. Didn’t I already say that?” Charlie replied starting to get annoyed with her dad.

“Oh, I see. They were just very beautiful looking, especially with those wings. I almost certainly thought they were an angel,” he rambles.

Vaggie and Charlie look at Lucifer stunned as Charlie starts, “What? Are you--? No, wait, dad we’re getting sidetracked. I meant the hotel! What do you think of it?!”

Then Lucifer goes on a tangent on how sinners could never be redeemed, and that they were vicious people who misused the gift that he gave them leading them here in hell. Before Charlie could fully give on getting her cause across to her father, a crash interrupts them.

They teleport downstairs and see a bunch of loan sharks barging their way into the hotel.

“Everyone! Get somewhere safe! I’ll handle this,” Vaggie yells readying her spear.

“No, my dear, leave it to me. It's time I remind everyone why I am here,” Alastor announces transforming into his demon form.

You chuckle unfurling your wings flying close to him, “Don’t forget about me.”

Lucifer ultimately shuts his mouth as he watches you dive headfirst towards one of the sharks stretching your hand out to grab their faces. You slam him roughly on the ground as his strength drains from his body. The longer you placed your hand on him the more his body crumples and dries, slowly wilting away from your touch. Leaving behind a red pulsing orb, you unhinge your jaw wrapping your tongue around it before swallowing it whole.

Lucifer’s stomach drops to his feet from the realization of his misconception of you, but he undoubtedly receives a hard-on as he can’t help but sexualize your actions. Wondering how it would feel wrapped around your long tongue and enveloped by your lips as you swallowed all of him.

He smacks himself across the face to rid himself of his thoughts and fixes his eyes on you and Alastor finishing up your massacre and dusting yourselves off. As he sees you both banter playfully, he couldn’t help but be reminded of his irritation for the male and comment towards Charlie.

“Mhm, you see? What'd I tell you? Charlie, sinners are violent psychopaths, hell bent on causing as much pain and destruction as they can. There's really no point in trying.”

She angrily huffs and yells at him, “Dad! Stop! He's defending this hotel! It may be a bit more sadistic than I'd hoped, but he's doing it for me! How come he can have faith in me, but my own father can't?”

His face crumples as he realizes his mistake. Here was his daughter trying to realize her dreams but couldn’t even support her ideas and aspirations. He was no better than those elders that shunned him away for his dreams. He finally comes clean to Charlie and apologizes to her. Finally supporting her dream and agreed on setting up the meeting for her.

But before he teleports away, he glances at you which you only responded with a light smile and nodded your head at him appreciating his help. He couldn’t help but be expectant of the next time you’ll meet again. He wished that Charlie would give him a call again soon.

The next time you met was when the angels attacked the residents of the hotel. When the matter was settled, all of you—including the help you gathered from Cannibal Town, celebrated your win in the now more spacious hotel.

While the lot of them gathered sharing drinks on one side, he saw you by yourself on the other side. He stands next to you with a grin, tapping your shoulder and asks, “This seat taken?”

You get startled from his action unfamiliar with people touching you so casually and give a flustered answer, “N-no! Please have a seat.”

He chuckles as he sits next to you, noticing how you scooted a little further away from him. He feels saddened when he was trying to be close to you, but you pull yourself away from him. He couldn’t help but comment, “You don’t need to be so distant. I’m just trying to get to know you better.”

You give him a smile and wrap your hands around your drink before answering, “Sorry. I’m just not used to people trying to come close to me at this distance, with my powers and all.”

He tilts his head cutely making you giggle and continue, “I guess Charlie didn’t tell you. I have the powers to drain demon’s powers. The longer I touch ‘em they die, and their soul becomes mine.”

He lets out a sound of understanding and mutters, “So that’s what that was.”

You look at him with you chin on your hand on the counter looking at him in interest. “Have you been watching me, your majesty?” you couldn’t help but tease.

You were not disappointed as you watch his face turn red as he fumbled with his drink while he tries to reply, “W-well, I couldn’t help but admire how strong you were. Either in a fight or just casually talking to you, you just seem to be so confident that I can’t help but keep my eyes on you.”

“You’re beautiful,” he finishes with a dreamy sigh.

“Are you hitting on me?” you ask complemented with a seductive smile.

His breath hitches as he realizes what he did, as he panics trying to save himself, “I mean! Please don’t take this the wrong way! I was just admiring— whoops!”

He accidentally drops his drink in his flustered state, with both of your fast reflexes you caught the glass together. His hand covering yours, he tilts his head not noticing anything different with himself as he holds you.

Meanwhile, you hastily place the cup down on the counter and fretted over him, “Are you alright? Are you unwell anywhere?”

“No, I’m fine. I don’t feel much different actually,” he says looking at his hands.

You sigh in relief not expecting this man to throw you off your loop. You’re so composed all the time that having this man in your proximity just destroys your braincells with how cute and charming he was.

“Actually, can we do that again?” he asks with a serious look, to which you hesitantly accepted locking your hands together for a while. As time passes on without much progress to his experiment, the more your cheeks turn into a bright shade of red that he finally catches on to.

“What’s go you so flustered all of a sudden, angel?” he teases squeezing your hand a few times egging you on.

You cover your cheeks with your other hand and tightly held his hand to make him stop, “I’ve never held hands with someone before.”

He smirks inching closer to your face, feeling his breath on you as he tried to memorize every part of you with half-lidded eyes, “Never been this close with a handsome bloke before?”

You stand from your seat, evidently towering over him from the sheer height difference then caging him in his both of his hands above him as you pinned him to a wall behind him.

“Never. Would you like to change that?” you whispered by his ear, earning a shudder from him.

“Bet,” he grins letting his forked tongue slither out of his mouth introducing itself to you while letting himself loose and held your waist. “Let’s go somewhere quiet.”

As the two of you disappeared from the group’s sights, Angel drunkenly yells, “OH, SHIT! LUCIFER’S GETTING SOME ASS TONIGHT!”

“Ewwww,” Charlie cries in disgust not welcoming the thought of his father fucking someone in her brain.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin lucifer #hazbin vaggie #alastor #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer

[rinixo]

aquae vivae

Din Djarin/Reader | 4.1k | Rated E | afab reader, no y/n, PIV sex, Mand’alor Din Djarin, breeding kink, dom/sub undertones, mention of pregnancy, subtle sex pollen, wedding night, oral sex

Your wedding night as the new bride of the Mand'alor.

AU of the 'trying to sleep' series (non-linear oneshots featuring you, a university scholar from Naboo who is helping The Mandalorian seek out the Jedi). Can be read alone.

a/n: This follows the same general story as 'thrones and people and cities' but can technically be read alone.I tagged 'sex pollen' but it just barely fits that trope. Mainly just added it so folks who aren't into it can skip/you're aware of the inherent dubious consent of it - but there is nothing but 100%, enthusiastic consent from all parties here.

read on ao3

You pause at the edge of the pool, eyeing the dark depths. The sound of dripping water echoes through the caverns, the only sound apart from your thrumming heart.

The murmur of your name snaps your attention to the caped man halfway down the steps into the pool. Din is half-turned towards you, armored head to toe as usual, the end of his long, furred cape floating in the still water. The cape around your shoulders matches his, and you rub the soft fur with your fingers nervously.

Din reaches out a gloved hand. Stepping forward, you lay your own in it and let him lead you down into the water. You’re surprised - despite the dark chill of the cavern, the water is strangely warm. You wonder if it is fed by geothermal springs, deep below the crust of the planet, or if it is something deeper.

There’s magic in the sacred pools, Din had murmured into your hair one late night. He told you about how bathing in the waters had redeemed him, how it was the great catalyst leading to his eventual accession to the role of Mand’alor. Now, as you stand before him, hands grasped in his, you wonder if the tingling on your skin is from the magnitude of what was about to occur or something more. Something without a name.

When Din had explained to you what a Mandalorian wedding was like, you had been quite happy at knowing it was a simple sharing of vows. He had then suggested that the two of you journey into the depths below the city center, to where the caverns with the living waters were located. There, just the two of you, you would bind yourself not only to the man you loved but also become Mandalorian yourself. It was a big moment, and one you had put a lot of careful thought into.

“Are you ready?” Din asks quietly. Squeezing his hands, you smile softly.

“Yes.”

Though you had memorized the vows before venturing into the caves, Din lead you through the words. You were grateful, not wanting to embarrass yourself by stumbling over the pronunciation.

“Mhi solus tome.”

We are one when together.

“Mhi solus dar’tome.”

We are one when apart.

“Mhi me'dinui an.

We share all.

“Mhi ba'juri verde.”

We will raise warriors.

—

Blinking at the late afternoon light, you followed Din up out of the caves, wet gown sticking around your legs. You were looking forward to changing out of your damp outfit and spending the rest of the evening with your new husband.

People buzzed around you the whole way back to your chambers, several of them wishing the two of you congratulations. You murmured shy thanks, the feeling of being the center of attention during what you felt was such an intimate time causing some of your innate timidness to come forward.

Din had explained to you that part of Mandalorian weddings included feasting and celebrating after the vows were shared. The families and clans of the couples were usually the extent of the guests, but with an apologetic smile, Din warned you that the feast to celebrate your union was likely to be much larger. He was quite beloved as a leader - as the first Mand’alor to resettle the planet since the Purge. The first royal wedding in decades, with the capital more populated than it had been in ages, was shaping up to be quite the affair.

The delegation from Naboo had also gotten involved. The ambassador, who had been so put off by your relationship at first, reveled in the chance to showcase Naboo. All week shipments of millaflowers and lanterns were arriving, along with cases of draping fabrics, mirrors, and jewel-toned crystal. He had even commissioned a gown for you to wear during the feast. Traditionally Naboo clothing was very structured, so you were thankful to see that the gown the ambassador had made for you was in the lake country style - lighter, made of lace and tulle, with a low, open back.

As you stepped into the gown, securing it at your shoulders and around your neck, you paused to look at yourself in the full-length mirror in the closet of your chambers. You had never worn something so lovely. Draped over a chair in the corner was your cape, now dry from its dip in the living waters. It was a symbol of your new status, and you mused at the fact that the gown complemented it quite well.

A knock at the closet door drew you out into the main part of your room. Din - your husband, you thought giddily - was standing there in his armor, sans helmet. You felt yourself flush at the way his eyes widened at your appearance, drinking you in.

“You look stunning,” he breathed, and you smiled at the compliment. You step forward and fuss with his armor - unnecessary, as it was spotless as usual - and looked up into his deep, kind eyes.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you remarked, leaning up to kiss the side of his mouth gently. You felt him smile and tilt his head to chase after your mouth, but you pulled away teasingly.

“Later,” you whispered. “We have a feast to attend, remember?”

Din grumbled, and you smiled placatingly. You’d be lying if you didn’t want to forget about the feast and spend the rest of the evening alone with your husband, but you knew if you didn’t show up for just a little while the ambassador would drag you there himself.

“I have something for you first,” Din pulled a small pouch out and turned it over. Something silver fell out into the palm of his gloved hand.

“A pendant?” You watched him hold it up, and saw that it was a delicate chain with a silver charm at the end in the stylized shape of some kind of creature, no bigger than one of your fingernails.

“I asked the armorer to make it,” he murmured. “It’s a Mudhorn, the symbol of my - our - clan.” He reached forward and clasped it around your neck, the weight of the pendant laying heavily on your breast. “It’s pure beskar, made from a piece of my armor.”

You looked down, touching it lightly. “It’s beautiful.”

Din merely smiled, leaning forward to place his forehead on yours, and you responded in a quiet moment of tranquility.

—

The feast was certainly one for the history books. The throne room made you gasp as you entered it, arm-in-arm with Din. The vaulted ceilings were lit with hundreds of beautifully crafted lanterns, mirrors, and crystals reflecting the shimmering flames around the massive space. The millaflowers and fabric draped every surface, the sweet scent of the blooms perfuming everything around you. You gave credit to those who had decorated - all of the decorations perfectly complimented the stark, structured Mandalorian architecture. It truly was a unification of your two cultures.

All around you guests came forward with well-wishes and gifts, which a never-ending retinue of assistants would take a place elsewhere. Grogu, who was also dressed up for the occasion, gurgled happily in his father’s arms at all of the attention. You, however, were starting to feel a bit overwhelmed.

Sensing your discomfort, Din lead you up to the raised dais in the front of the room, where the two of you sat side-by-side in lavish seats set in front of the throne. You reached for a goblet and downed a mouthful of sweet, flowery liquor. Din - who had put his helmet back on before the two of you joined the celebrations - tilted his head slightly in amusement.

“Feeling all right?” He asked, placing his hand on your thigh soothingly. You nodded, placing your drink down on the table and sighing deeply.

“Yes, I just needed some space,” you admitted. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“I know,” he answered. “Just a little while longer.”

Guests continued to stream up to the two of you, though now that you were seated and there was a decadent table between you and them you felt more at ease.

An elder Mandalorian approached your table with a crystal carafe filled with a deep red liquid. Setting it gently on the table, they intoned in heavy Mando’a.

“Wine,” Din translates, “Made in the ancient tradition from herbs and tinctures symbolizing prosperity and love. It’s a gift from those who remember the old ways and hope that our union brings forth a new age of growth for our people.”

“Thank you,” you express, taking the carafe. The elder bowed, before shuffling away to allow others to come forward.

The number of people coming up to you seemed to go on forever, and you poured yourself a generous glass of the special wine to help distract you and calm your nerves. It seemed to be working, the sweet yet tart liquid filling you with a familiar warmth and ease. You offered some to Din, who accepted a small taste by lifting his helmet enough for you to tip the goblet into his mouth.

After a while, you felt yourself relaxing into the plush furs of your chair, leaning against Din’s side. You played with Grogu’s ears as he tucked into the snacks laid out on the table, smiling fondly at the child and his voracious appetite.

“Does this mean I’m his mother now?” You wondered aloud and felt Din chuckle.

“I suppose,” he mused. “I’m his father, and you’re my wife, so that would make him our child.”

“Hmm,” you wiped a crumb from the side of the baby’s mouth, amused. “I always imagined my first child looking a little more like me.”

Din coughed, tensing slightly next to you. “Well,” he intoned lowly, leaning a little closer so that his words were only audible to you, “Perhaps the next one will.”

He placed his hand on your thigh again, the thin fabric shifting as he rubbed your skin. You felt warm from your head to your toes, with most of the heat pooling between your legs and where Din’s hand was placed. Throat suddenly dry, you lifted your drink and took another sip.

“C-can we go soon?” You lilted, wanting nothing more than to return to your rooms with Din alone.

“Soon,” Din promised, and you tensed your legs slightly to try to alleviate the ache growing between them. It was a familiar kind of ache, one that you had felt before, wine or no wine. However, there was something different about the way your body was reacting to the man next to you, and you weren’t sure how long you’d be able to take it before pouncing on him in front of everyone in attendance.

Thankfully it was not very long before Din gestured to a member of his staff and had them assist the two of you in making a smooth exit. He passed Grogu, now pleasantly drowsy, to one of his aides and then guided you back to your shared chambers.

When inside you kicked off your shoes, sighing at the relief of the cool floor under your feet. Din let go of your hand and locked the doors behind you, the sound of it engaging sending a throb of anticipation through your body.

You stepped towards your bed, which you had been sharing with Din for months before this. Something about its wide surface, covered in soft linen and furs, felt different this time. It was now your marriage bed.

The sound of Din removing his helmet, the seal disengaging, made you glance over to him. He placed it down gently and started with the rest of his armor. You stood there as if transfixed, watching as the man beneath the armor was slowly revealed. You always enjoyed being the audience to this ritual, and tonight was no exception. In fact, your body continued to warm, shivers of need going up your spine.

Din turns towards you, dressed down only to his most base inner layers. Realizing you were staring, your hands went to the clasp of your gown before he stops you with a low murmur.

“Allow me,” he husks, and you drop your hands to allow him to undress you himself. His fingers, surprisingly soft despite his rough past, dusted across your skin as the lace and tulle were unwound from your frame. At the same time, he began to back you up until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Pulling a pin from where your neck met your shoulder, your gown unraveled and fell softly around your legs. Din’s hands paused, his dark eyes drinking in the sight of you there, bare save for the beskar pendant around your neck.

“Beautiful,” he rasped, and you nearly moaned at the tone of his voice. It rolled over you, through you, like thick, rich honey and smoke. You could practically taste it. With a gentle push, Din laid you back onto the bed, standing over you with a hungry look in his eyes.

“I dreamed about this.” He kneeled on the bed, crawling up your body. “You, in my bed, wearing the symbol of my clan.” His head dipped to place a kiss to the center of your ribcage. “Bound to me.” You shivered again as his mouth trailed up to your collarbone, your neck, and across your jaw. Your hands, shaking with expectant thirst, snaked up his powerful arms to clutch at his shoulders.

You wanted to say so many things, all of the emotions that had built up catching on the tip of your tongue, but when you opened your mouth all that left you was a choked “please.”

Din’s mouth slotted over yours and you moaned deeply into it, body arching up to press against his firmer form. One of his hands came to your thigh, and you hitched it up around his waist, rolling your hips wantonly. Your hands ran under his linen shift, and you whined at the barrier between your skin and his.

With a groan, Din’s mouth released from yours just long enough for him to pull his shirt over his head and throw it to the side. He continued his exploration of your flesh, licking a slow stripe down your arched neck. You hissed as his teeth pulled at your skin, your nails scratching lightly across the skin of his upper back.

“Din,” you crooned, hand going to his head as he dipped down to tease the peak of one of your breasts with that wicked tongue. You cried out as he sucked roughly on your nipple, sensations of velvet and fire going straight to your swollen pussy. His mouth moved between the tips of your breasts, pinching and sucking and nipping at the flesh there until it was as swollen as your pussy felt.

He raised his head, eyes wild. He took in your body, writhing and panting, and thought you reminiscent of molten steel. You sought his gaze, pupils blown dark and wide with desire.

“What did I do to deserve you?” Din croaked, dipping his head down to nose the soft skin of your stomach. “Perfect creature…” he kissed his way down your lower abdomen. “I want to fill you up, sweet girl - do you want it too?”

You let out a wail as he licked a firm stripe up your leaking cunt. He lifted your legs to rest on his shoulders so that you were bent - your upper back laying against the bed, your hips angled up towards his mouth. You were wetter than you thought possible, your pussy swollen and flushed. Din sucked firmly on your clit, moaning at the way you keened and shook in his grasp.

Your hands thrashed, clutching desperately at the furs around you. Your thighs tensed, squeezing tightly against the sides of Din’s head as he brought you closer to the crest of your pleasure.

The feeling of his mouth leaving you made you groan in frustration as he dropped your lower body back to the bed. You opened your eyes, brow furrowed as you propped yourself up to stare at your smug husband.

He climbed over you again, shedding his pants. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the hard cock between his legs, flushed and bobbing, leaking clear droplets of pre-spend. You laid back, legs spreading so that he could settle between them firmly.

“Eager girl,” Din teased. “You that desperate to have me inside of you?”

“Din,” you groused, “If you don’t fuck me soon I think I’m going to die.”

He laughed, husked low in his chest as he pressed himself firmly to your swollen entrance. You laid your head back onto the bed, sighing in relief as he began to stretch your walls. It felt like he was splitting you right down the middle in the best way, and you arched your back to let him sink in further.

“Oh, fuck,” he rasped, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. “You’re a jewel,” he breathed roughly, hips snapping forward until you wailed. “Taking my cock so well.”

You shifted your hips under him, angling yourself to take him as far in as your body would allow. He chuckled at your frustrated expression, arms braced on either side of your head. He bent forward to capture your lips in a messy kiss.

“My little wife,” he breathed over your lips. “Wants my cock so badly.”

“’S'good,” you slurred. “Big. Fuck me, please.” He answered you with a rock of his hips, hitting that spot inside of you that made you keen again.

“Tell me what you want, baby” he crooned against your mouth, hips slapping mercilessly against your pelvis. “Come on.”

“C-come in me,” you begged. Flashes of images - a little curly-haired baby at your breast, curled up against Din’s chest as he whispered to it lovingly, lowly - made your pussy clench around him. Your body ached for it in a way you had never experienced. You wanted him to get you pregnant, wanted to carry his child inside of you.

“Fucking - anything you want, sweet girl,” Din gasped. “Want me to fill you up “ he rides you hard, desperate for the way you cry with every punch at your guts. “You’re so good, baby, fuck-“

He continues to ramble, lost in how you’re tensing around him. “You’re gonna look so fucking beautiful, full of my child. You don’t know how badly I want it, so badly - I can practically see it -“

Emotion wells up in your chest, binding with the pleasure thrumming through you. You’re nearly there - fire rising from your toes and flooding down from your chest. Din dips his head to kiss your neck, and you start to tip over the edge. Your orgasm starts deep inside of your cunt, from where his swollen head is grinding up into your walls, and sparks down to where his pelvis rubs against your clit. Your vision goes white and you hear Din cry out as your desperate pussy wrenches from him his own release.

“T-take it,” he growls, hips snapping against yours, the head of his cock tight against the seal of your womb. You whine at the pressure of it, the feeling almost too good to bear. You shift your hips, pulling away before his head snaps up from your neck.

“No no no- take it,“ he groans, hand tight on your hip. You writhe under him, tears of pleasure pricking the corner of your eyes. His gaze on you burns, and you struggle to see him clearly through the fog of your ecstasy.

His pace remains steady, desperation clear in the way he rams his cock up into your cunt. “Your duty,” he gasps, leaning forward so that his chest nearly crushes you. “Do your duty and take my seed, bear my children.”

He holds you there as he pulses out the last of his release, breath leaving him in short pants through his nose. His teeth are gritted, brow furrowed, gaze locked to your eyes so that you can’t look away.

“D-Din,” you shudder, and his eyes soften. His grip on your hips loosens minutely, and he lets out a shaky breath.

“You did so well,” he praises you. “You’re so fucking good.”

You blink wetly, mind still focused on his cock and how it’s anchored inside of you, pinning you to the bed, plugging you securely. Din tilts his head at your determined expression, and when you roll your hips experimentally he sucks in air sharply.

“Feels good,” you mumble, drunk on the pleasure and the feeling of him still hard inside of you. Stars, how was he still so fucking hard? And why was your body telling you to make him come inside of you again?

Think about that later, you decide, hooking your legs around his waist and pushing him further up into you. He chokes again, head drooping to look at where the clutch of you holds him tightly inside.

“Fuck,” he moans. “You’re never going to know sleep without the feel of me leaking out of you.” He rolls his hips back before slamming back into you, your mouth opening in a satisfied groan. “Not until you’re fucked full of my child, sweet girl.”

“Yeah,” you agree, nodding feverishly. It’s all you can manage to say, everything in you focused on where his body enters yours, in and out, inandout-

The two of you spend the entire night and most of the early morning like that, tangled together, until your bodies are near to collapse from exhaustion. It’s Din who taps out first, placating your desire with soft kisses to your temple and strokes to your still-swollen cunt. It isn’t long before your eyes start to droop, sleep just on the edge of your consciousness as he teases you to one last, lazy orgasm. You all but pass out, head resting on his chest to the feeling of him stroking your hair lovingly.

You wake hours later, alone in bed. Your body aches sweetly, and as you start you rise you roll your neck and groan.

“Good morning,” a raspy voice greets you, and you turn to look at where Din leans up against a dresser. He sips from a steaming mug, brow raising in humor at your bedraggled appearance.

“G’morning,” you croak, throat dry. Din sets his mug down, trading it for a glass. He comes over to the bed, sitting next to you, and hands it to you. You take it, gulping down the cool water gratefully.

“What time is it?” You asked, licking your lips. When he tells you - mid-afternoon - you scoff. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

Din’s brow raises again, and he leans back against the headboard. “Thought you needed the rest,” he said, amusement in his tone. “Since you kept me up all night.”

You pouted, indignant and embarrassed. “Don’t pretend you didn’t like it,” you mumble, and he laughs.

“Quite the opposite,” he husks. “And as much as I’d like to take responsibility for your behavior, I had a feeling it was due to something else.” You tilted your head in confusion, sipping more of the water.

“The wine,” he explained, and you thought back to the previous night - somewhat difficult a task - and remembered the crystal carafe.

“Turns out they mean “new age of growth” more literally than I understood,” Din continues. “That wine is made from herbs that act as an aphrodisiac and increase fertility. You drank a lot more of it than I did, so it hit you harder than it did me.”

You choke on your water, some of it dribbling down your chin. Wiping it away, you set your glass to your side and cover your eyes, groaning. Din pulls you closer and you bury your face in his chest, burning with embarrassment at the situation - and the implication.

“Silly girl,” he croons, hand creeping down your side. You look up at him, another shy pout on your lips, and he tips your chin up to kiss you slowly, deeply. You sigh into it, shifting your leg to straddle his lap and feel him smile against your mouth. You shift down to where his cock sits, firm and proud, and grind your bareness against him until he groans.

“More? So soon?” He whispers darkly, and you nip at him cheekily. Pulling back, you look your husband in the eye, a mischievous glimmer in your gaze.

“Might as well make sure it works, right?” You tease lowly, and shriek in loving laughter as he throws you down and begins to devour you again.

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin smut #the mandalorian smut #mando x reader #din x reader

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

Cold Nights to Sunday Mornings - bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

Summary: 2.1k words. loosely inspired by "Hold My Girl" by George Ezra. (idk what to put for the summary but! pls trust that it's worth your time bc i'm proud of this :) )

Warnings: lots of angst & fluff to redeem the angst

a/n: the fall semester just started & i've been really busy so i'm just as shocked as you are that i'm actually posting a fic. enjoy & please let me know what you think <3

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“Baby, we have to get up,” she pleaded. Bradley ignored her request and wrapped his arms around her midsection tighter.

A soft displeased hum left her lips—though it was mostly in jest. She could never be anything but content in Bradley’s arms. The sound only had the aviator nuzzling his head further against her neck, peppering light kisses across the exposed skin.

---

Before y/n, Bradley never slept in. Rooster was his call sign for a reason. For better or for worse, he had a habit of being up before the sun and the rest of the sane world. 

Sleeping in meant that he was only prolonging the amount of time he spent in bed alone. The barrack beds were uncomfortable and cold. When he’d been promoted and was able to arrange for housing off-base he ran into the same issue. A thousand dollars and a new mattress later, the comfort issue was fixed. He might as well have been sleeping on a damn cloud. But his bed was still cold. And lonely.

Without an alarm clock he rose every morning no later than 5:30 a.m.. Maybe it was because of all his years in the military. Maybe it was the broken teenager inside of him that was always running—from his past, to his future, to find someplace somewhere that he could rest easy—and damn, was that exhausting. Everyone he loved and counted on died suddenly, or abandoned him, or died slowly.

As he got older, he found a little bit of peace. Bradley worked his ass off and earned his successful career. He reconnected with his estranged Godfather. He was reassigned to the same base he spent most of his early childhood at.

He slept better after that. In his mid-thirties, it was about damn time that he was able to relax a bit. Yet still, no amount of blankets warmed up the everpresent unwelcome chill.

---

One morning he had a particularly unpleasant wake-up. At just after 4 in the morning, Bradley woke up drenched in sweat. The nightmares weren’t frequent, but they weren’t uncommon. It came with the territory of being directly involved in combat. He couldn’t go back to sleep–he never could–so he got up. He cleaned his entire house. He watched a movie that he wasn’t paying attention to. He went for a run. He didn’t bother counting the miles, he just ran until he felt better; even though he never really did. When he was done showering, it was finally a socially acceptable hour to call someone.

Bradley’s thumb hovered over Pete’s phone number. Before he could talk himself out of it, he pressed harder than necessary on the screen and winced as the phone rang. After 3 rings Bradley’s tense shoulders deflated. Just before the call went to voicemail, it was picked up with haste. Shuffling could be heard on the other end of the line.

“Hi sweetie!” That’s not Maverick.

“Hey Penny…” he trailed off awkwardly. He was hardly prepared to have a conversation with his godfather, much less his godfather’s girlfriend.

“Mav is out in the hangar right now working on his plane,” Penny explained with a sarcastic air of ‘what else is new?’. There was more shuffling as Penny moved to hold the phone between her shoulder and ear. She had a splatter or two of pancake batter on her manicured hands. Pete would just have to suck it up when he saw the evidence on his phone later.

“I’m making breakfast right now, would you like to come over? I’ll make up a plate for you, hun,” Penny offered sweetly. She was so caught up in putting together her Sunday breakfast feast that she hardly realized she never asked Bradley why he called.

The younger man paused for a moment. He didn’t want to impose, but he really didn’t want to be alone right now.

Pete met Bradley at the front door with a fond smile. Bradley tried his best to return the smile but he wasn’t successful. His lips just looked like they were twisted in pain and there wasn’t much light in his eyes. Maverick’s brow furrowed. He wouldn’t push until the kid was ready to open up, and he had a feeling that wouldn’t be until after he had a plate full of Penny’s famous pancakes.

Amelia all but inhaled her breakfast before she twirled around the house like a mini tornado, grabbing her bag and keys and shouting ‘ThanksforbreakfastI’mgoingtothebeachwithsomefriendsloveyoubye!’ as the door slammed shut behind her. Maverick’s eyebrows raised and Penny just shook her head with a smile.

The older woman subtly watched Bradley clear his plate. She waited until he swallowed his last bite of food and washed it down with orange juice before she rested her soft hand over his white knuckle clenched fist on the table.

“What’s going on, Bradley?” she asked gently. She was careful–like he was a scared animal that might bolt in an instant. Pete leaned in, making sure he was within his godson’s line of sight too. Bradley couldn’t meet either of their eyes. He cleared his throat and was quiet for a moment.

He told them about the nightmare. About the cold sweat, and the cold sheets, and the cold bed, and the cold empty house. Mav’s heart broke. He was trying his best to do right by Goose; he’d just barely managed to repair his relationship with his godson, but he supposed there was only so much he could protect the younger aviator from.

Pete reached across to rest an arm on Bradley’s shoulder. He tensed then relaxed, but didn’t shake off Mav’s hand. Maybe that was a good sign. Penny’s gaze was sympathetic. Bradley rarely opened up to anyone, but he knew Penny was the person to go to when pity would make him nauseous.

“It might be helpful to get some company,” the older, wiser woman suggested and squeezed Bradley’s hand. His fist unclenched a bit. Pete had been mostly silent up until this point. He wasn’t good with emotions, that much was obvious to anyone who’d spent more than half an hour outside of work with the man.

“Company other than one night stands and the stray cats you swear you don’t feed,” Pete remarked. Rooster chuckled. It was the first genuinely positive reaction they’d seen from him this morning. The cats are lovely company, thank you very much, Bradley thought.

---

Bradley tried to get his shit together. He was mostly successful. He officially took in one of the stray cats. He brought him to the vet and made sure his vaccines were up to date and got the poor cat neutered. A cat tree tower took residence next to the backdoor Bradley left cat food out by.

He even tried his hand at gardening. He started a small vegetable garden and did a bit of landscaping. Two months ago he didn’t know which perennials were best suited for California weather, much less how to take care of them. Now he’d installed a carefully timed automatic sprinkler system and even built a tarp over part of the earthy plot to prevent too much sun exposure for some of the more delicate plants.

You have to love yourself before you can love someone else.

Bradley was convinced that phrase was absolute bullshit. Plenty of people were in happy relationships and still went through bouts of being miserable with themselves. Penny tsked Bradley’s pessimism at her bar top. She’d unofficially taken on the role of being his intermittent therapist.

“Bull shit or not, you need to work out some of your own issues before you start dating around,” she said pointedly. She was being pulled in the opposite direction by another bartender that needed her help when she shouted back to Bradley, “Don’t you dare download Tinder, mister!” The exclamation was far too loud for Bradley’s taste, especially when several heads suddenly whipped around to focus on him.

So work out his issues he did. 

He stopped throwing himself into work and ruthless workouts simply for the sake of avoiding his thoughts and being alone. He tried out sitting in silence with his thoughts in his lonely house. He hated it. But he got better at it over time. Goose the cat climbing across his lap and snuggling against his thigh made things better.

Companionship. Mav and Penny were right. He needed someone outside of work. Someone whose life didn’t center around the Navy or planes or beer.

---

y/n wasn’t who he ever imagined ending up with. She didn’t particularly care for the U.S. military-industrial complex. She wasn’t a beer girl and she wasn’t very good at driving. She was afraid of heights so she preferred not to fly when she traveled. Whenever she could drive instead of take a flight, she would—even though she’s admittedly a bad driver.

y/n loved Bradley’s cat. She was a cat and a dog person. She was also a bearded dragon person—something that Bradley did not expect to learn about anyone over the age of 20. Her eyes were filled with wonder when she first laid eyes on his thriving vegetable garden.

y/n was very outdoorsy. She loved nature and the beach, she dragged Bradley out of his cold house more times than he could count. The more time y/n spent at his house, the less cold it felt. She brought Bradley on hikes—he had no idea how many trails and reserves were within driving distance. Bradley always drove.

Their green thumbs linked well together. y/n introduced several cat-safe plants to the interior of Bradley’s home. Every once in a blue moon, the couple would spend time at y/n’s apartment. Her roommate was even less of a fan of the military-industrial complex and it showed. One morning Bradley woke up before y/n so he headed to her kitchen to make them breakfast. Her roommate, Allie, woke up early as well. A not-so-casual conversation ensued (read: scrutinizing questions) about Bradley being ‘“Property of Uncle Sam” over the sound of scrambled eggs sizzling. After that, Bradley suggested they spend more time at his house. It was roomier, he reasoned. y/n snorted. “You just don’t want Allie talking at you at the butt crack of dawn,” y/n corrected. Bradley nodded with tight lips.

Mav and Penny enthusiastically offered to help move y/n into Bradley’s home after the spunky y/h/c accepted his offer with a massive grin and a PG-13 kiss.

Now that Bradley woke up with y/n in his arms every morning, he wasn’t really eager to hop out of bed anymore. He was pretty sure the last time he habitually woke up later than 9 in the morning on weekends was when he was in high school.

---

y/n huffed and leaned back into Bradley’s warm embrace. The man was practically a space heater in bed, but he was her space heater.

She twisted around in his arms with a grin so that they were chest to chest. Bradley’s legs tensed when y/n’s cold feet assaulted his skin.

“We need to go feed Goose,” y/n reasoned, even though she knew full well that Bradley couldn’t be reasoned with when he was comfortable in bed. Comfortable and bed were two words that weren’t associated with each other for quite a long time for Bradley.

“He can starve for a bit,” he mumbled without opening his eyes. y/n gasped and swatted his arm. The corner of his lip twitched into a grin as he leaned forward to blindly press a kiss to y/n’s face. 

“You have morning breath, Brad,” she wrinkled her nose. He squinted one eye open and stuck his tongue out at y/n. She rolled her eyes but she too snuggled further into his warm embrace. 20 minutes or so passed by. y/n was falling in and out of almost asleep, and she was ready to get the day going.

She squirmed in Bradley’s arms again.

“Bradleyyy,” she groaned, feeling antsy. The aviator shook his head with a smile. For the first time all morning, he cracked his eyes open. The light streaming through the window highlighted the flecks of gold in his beautiful big brown eyes and y/n forgot what she was going to say.

“Shhh, five more minutes” he hushed softly and pressed a kiss to y/n’s nose, a content smile on his face.

“Give me a minute to hold my girl.”

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[lauraneedstochill]

The object of my desires

summary: You overhear Aemond making a snarky remark about the way you dress. You decide to teach him a lesson.

warnings: friends to lovers (both are idiots), a dash of angst, Aegon gets punched (but he redeems himself), a lot of teasing, things get very heated (NSFW: it is smut but not very detailed so don't get your hopes up), with a sprinkle of softness

words: ~6500 (it was supposed to be shorter but they started making out...)

author's note: the idea first popped into my head months ago when I saw this post. also, for the longest time I've been thinking that “you are the bane of my existence” monologue is a perfect fit for Aemond — and yet I haven't seen a single fic * using that quote?! so I finally decided to give it a try.

If anyone asked you to describe your relationship with Aemond, you would’ve said that the two of you were almost friendly. The almost part was the trickiest one to explain because, even though both of you acted very content with the way of things, you still couldn’t help but think that you wanted something more, no matter how much you’ve tried to deny it.

You got to know him through Helaena who you befriended when you were ten and six. A year older than you, she was the weird girl no one wanted to talk to and you approached her out of curiosity but soon learned that she had a cheerful nature and quite a nimble mind. She loved your sharp sense of humor and energetic wit and the two of you became close, your contrasting personalities complimenting each other very well.

Your introduction to her brothers was brief and for a couple of months, you didn’t interact with either of them. She’s been married to Aegon for four years back then and even though he immediately didn’t strike you as a faithful husband — always a cup away from being wasted and shamelessly gazing at every maid’s legs — he mostly looked harmless. Aemond, however, was the exact opposite — guarded and collected, he kept his distance from everyone, making it clear that it was his choice. You could only get a good look at the prince when you were passing the training yard, and a couple of times you found your gaze lingering on him — on the lean body and tense muscles, on the way he moved the sword with ease. In those moments you felt the danger radiating off him, yet it never scared you away. But you knew better than to fawn over the prince who seemingly paid you no mind.

A significant change came on the evening of Aegon’s ten and ninth birthday which Helaena begged you to come to — you weren’t fond of big events but couldn’t say no to her. For the most part, the feast was tolerable as you’ve spent it by her side, making glib remarks about the guests, much to your friend’s amusement. But when the celebration died down and all the nobles began to disperse, Aegon, drunk out of his mind, decided to make advances toward his wife whom he ignored for the duration of the evening. His approach was harsh and unexpected, and the look on Helaena’s face shuttered your heart. 

“Your grace, your manners escape you,” you tried warning him, shielding your friend but Aegon was too wasted to notice your fiery gaze. In his inebriated state, he probably mistook you for a maid as he grabbed your arm in an effort to shove you aside. Next thing you know, your fist connected with his nose — and then Aegon was lying on the floor, eyes wide and blood gushing down his face as you stood next to him, fuming. Before he could think of an answer, Aemond appeared out of nowhere — just in time to drag his brother away, while the drunkard was hurling insults at you in a frenzy. Only when they left, it dawned on you what you just did. 

You expected for the king’s guard to come for your head in the morrow, but instead, a few surprising things happened. First, you learned that the boys didn’t rat you out, making it look like they were the ones who got into a fight. Aegon did apologize to Helaena and from that day, his temper softened as he never dared to repeat his mistake. But, most importantly, Aemond took a sudden interest in you.

Overall, his behavior stayed the same, but you regularly caught him looking in your direction, and every time you saw each other, he made sure to acknowledge your presence. He never initiated the conversation first, only sometimes curtly voicing his opinion, yet you noticed him paying attention to your chattering with Helaena — and you could swear that a few times he suppressed a laugh at your jokes.

The mystery veil that the prince was surrounded with sparked your curiosity, and you wanted to crack down his guard, to get a chance to know him. The opportunity presented itself one day when Helaena and you came to watch Aemond train. You saw him and Criston arguing as the prince was late to his studies but Cole refused to let Aemond leave until he wins the last bout. Whether he wasn’t in the right mood or had something distracting him, Aemond kept losing, and his teacher only pushed him further, relentless in his attempts.

“Ser Criston, you’re putting yourself in harm's way,” you chimed in, making the man turn to you with a chuckle, while Aemond gave you a tired look.

“May it be that the finest swordsman of the realm is simply avoiding his responsibilities?” you suggested with a light grin.

“Mayhaps he is in need of some encouragement, lady Y/N,” Cole teased. 

“Well, I would've volunteered to share the burden of learning with him,” you remark. “If only he could win this one bout,” you added, keeping eye contact with the prince.

It took Aemond about two minutes to knock his opponent to the ground which made Helaena gasp in surprise while you were trying to hide a smile. Without a word, Aemond came to you, and the two of you went to the library. On your way there, he kept silent, but you were not intimidated at all. When you walked into the room, Aemond hesitated as if giving you a chance to change your mind. But you boldly turned to him:

“If you mean to scare me with the prospect of studying, I should warn you that I've read more books than you can count,” you informed the prince.

It was the first time when you saw him smiling — widely and shamelessly, looking very smug.

“You are full of surprises, my lady,” he grinned. “Do you mean to challenge me?”

It turned out that Aemond liked challenges, and you enjoyed being one. Since that day, you got into the habit of joining him in the library and the prince would accompany you in his free time more often than not. You would dare him to read faster, to fight harder, to engage in conversations — or sometimes to simply have fun. Whenever you had a reason to disagree with him, he was always respectful and found himself entertained by your way of thinking, which made your discussions and even arguments span for hours.

As years went by, you kept playfully bantering back and forth, and Helaena told you that you were the only one allowed to act like that around her brother. You couldn’t understand what his motives were but it was hard to deny that his company was pleasant. Aemond grew up into quite an eligible bachelor and his attention did flatter you, even though he never crossed the line. Sometimes you even dared to entertain the thought that maybe — just maybe — Aemond had a soft spot for you.

Until one day things took a turn.

Helaena’s twentieth birthday was meant to be just another celebration that you would’ve skipped if it wasn’t for her. The only way for you to pass the time was dancing which you’ve actually come to love in recent years, enjoying the rhythm of the music that helped to lighten your mood. Your dear friend mostly preferred to sit back so you were often compelled to find yourself a company that would be bearable, at the very least.

That evening, you got acquainted with Jacaerys Velaryon, the boy being younger than you but a foot taller. He approached you with a small smile on the pretext of knowing Helaena, and you soon learned that he was a good dancer. But the best thing about Jace was that he spend most of his time talking about his betrothed, Baela, who he was absolutely smitten with. The girl sadly couldn’t be present as she had to stay with her dad, who recently sailed home, and the dark-haired boy couldn’t keep his mouth shut. All the time while dancing he was either gushing about her or asking your advice, which you found adorable and gladly chatted with him.

Throughout the feast, you felt Aemond looking at you, probably more than usual. You knew that he wasn't fond of dancing and even though his gaze on you felt rather good, deep down you wished that he was the one you were spending time with. After a couple of hours, however, you saw his usual spot empty, and the prince was nowhere to be found. For some reason, you got a very bad feeling and, after leaving Jace to take a break, you went to Helaena. She informed you that Aemond left not so long ago, adding that it looked like her brother was upset about something.

That's how you ended up roaming through the castle halls, giving in to the unsettling feeling churning in your stomach. Passing by one of the chambers, you suddenly hear voices and realize that it's Aemond talking to his brother. You don’t mean to eavesdrop and were about to turn around — but then Aegon mentions your name.

“You are foolish to wait for so long. You could’ve at least asked Y/N for a dance,” his remark is followed by gulping sounds. Is he ever without a cup? You hold back a giggle — which quickly disappears when you hear Aemond’s answer:

“I prefer not to waste my time on such futile activities,” and his voice is unexpectedly grim.

“You may want to reconsider when the lady has every man’s attention. Even the Velaryon boy was pretty much drooling,” he chuckles, and his words make your brows furrow as you are certain he has no ground to suggest that. You’re a moment away from drowning in doubts, but the younger prince brings you back to reality. 

“I suppose it's hard not to, with the way she's been dressing lately,” Aemond deadpans.

He says it with a flat tone — yet it feels like a punch that knocks all of the air out of your lungs. There's a brief pause — and Aegon sounds almost sober when he asks, with a hint of surprise in his voice:

“And what about her dresses?”

“I found them to be... rather bawdy. Although I’m not impressed in the slightest,” Aemond forces out.

Your heart sinks at his words, cheeks heating up. You wait for him to say anything else, to give an explanation, at least one reason for his accusations but there is none. Aegon laughs — and you feel sick to your stomach, realizing that you cannot bear listening to their conversation any longer.

You walk away as quietly as possible, with cotton feet and your hands shaking. You rush past the hall and out of the castle, tears pricking in your eyes. Only once you're all alone, embraced by the silence of the night, you take a deep breath of air. Aemond’s words are ringing in your ears, loud and clear. You look down at your dress in disbelief: the neckline is basically non-existent, your arms are fully covered, and it barely shows any skin at all. And yet he thinks this is inappropriate? 

Your cheeks are wet and burning yet you feel anger bubbling in your chest. You never thought Aemond could be cruel — and yet it’s him, out of all people, who let those vile words slip out of his mouth like they meant nothing. Like you meant nothing to him. For years, you heard people calling him cold-hearted and arrogant but you were naive to believe that the prince made an exception for you. Out of all the mistakes you’ve made so far, this one might’ve been the most painful one.

Your outrage spreads like a wildfire as you think back to every interaction you’ve had with Aemond, his every glance and every word that fooled you into thinking that he cared. Was he secretly criticizing you the whole time? How many other jokes did he make behind your back? Who even gave him the right to judge whether your dresses are acceptable or not? As if he is any different from all the other men whose brains turn into mush when they get a glimpse of a female body.

You stop dead in your tracks when an idea suddenly forms in your head. It’s very uncharacteristic of you — at first, you hesitantly brush it off, thinking that it’s not wise to make any emotional decisions. And yet the idea keeps nagging at you for the remainder of the night and for a few hours you ponder if you should take such a brazen approach. But then his unkind remark pops back in your memory — over and over and over.

By the time the morning comes, you make up your mind.

He says he isn’t impressed in the slightest? There is only one way to find out for sure.

On the very next day, you take Helaena for a walk in the garden, well aware that her brothers will accompany you as Aegon doesn’t have anything else to do and Aemond prefers to take a stroll after his training. Your dress is close-fitted yet modest, not an inch shorter than necessary. It is not about the dress but what’s underneath it — and the object in question clinks lightly with your every step. You show it to Helaena right away and she finds it delightful, the jingling only making her smile. Then her siblings come to join you, you curtsy but barely spare Aemond a glance. You don’t ask a single question about his day, instead taking interest in Aegon. The older prince gives you a suspicious side-eye but welcomes the chatting. It doesn’t take long before he notices the sound, too.

“Am I the only one who can hear the clinking? I am almost certain that it’s not just in my head,” he debates.

“Oh, it’s Y/N’s doing,” Helaena beams unsuspectingly.

“Apologies, my prince, it’s my aunt’s gift that caught your ear,” you slow down and take a few seconds to make sure you’ve got everyone’s attention.

And then, with one gentle motion, you pull up your dress — ever so slightly, just enough to show your ankle and the thin bracelet wrapped around it. The jewelry is made out of gold and it instantly catches the sunlight, casting warm sparkles on your skin. It’s decorated with tiny coins which make a jingling sound as you slowly turn your leg from side to side.

“I thought it was rather pretty. Don’t you think?” you only look at Aegon.

“Umm yes,” he gulps. “Rather pretty it is,” the prince mumbles, and then his gaze shifts to someone else. You don’t need to turn your head to know who he’s looking at. Instead, you continue with your walk without a care in the world.

“I should ask my aunt to bring you a similar one, my dear,” you suggest to Helaena and she eagerly agrees.

You have a few other gifts for Aemond, too.

Next time you opt for a different bracelet — with no coins and no jingling, a simple golden chain. But your dress is a tad bit shorter and the jewelry catches everyone’s eye with ease as it looks like a ray of light curled around your ankle. You deliberately walk through the training yard, arm-in-arm with Helaena. You give Ser Christon the brightest smile, and he politely nods in your direction.

“Good morrow, ladies.”

“How's your training coming along, Ser Criston?” you ask, and it feels strange to talk to him instead of Aemond. You bitterly remind yourself that you apparently overstated the value of those conversations.

“I'm afraid, we are hardly progressing. Mayhaps you will keep us company? I fear, we are in need of some cheerful words,” Cole shoots a glance at the prince who stands by, his eye fixed on you.

“Aren’t we all, Ser Criston,” you tilt your head at him. “But it seems like my pursuit of lessening your burden did nothing good,” and before he can ask anything else, you walk away, ignoring Aemond completely.

Helaena senses that something is off, giving you a worried look:

“Is there anything troubling you, Y/N?”

“Not when I'm with you, my friend,” you reassure her and force your smile to look as believable as possible.

Partially, it is true as her company always brings you joy and you don’t want to sour her mood by recalling Aemond's words that wounded your pride. You refuse to admit that he also grazed your heart.

In a week, you accept Helaena’s invitation to join them for breakfast and you decide to up your game. It's the perfect time of year for sleeveless dresses but the one you pick also has a daring addition: two thin cuts under your armpits. They are barely visible but when you put your arms up, it's easy to distinguish the contour of your ribcage and the softness of your skin peeking through.

You sit by Helaena's side, easily keeping up with the conversation and not glancing at Aemond once. After the food is taken away and everyone starts wandering around the room, you get up to fix your hair, standing not too far away from the dining table as you raise your hands and run your fingers into your hairdo.

“May I offer assistance?” Aegon leans on the wall next to you, his mouth curling into a smile.

You roll your eyes and are about to shush him when he quietly adds:

“I know what you are doing,” you turn your gaze to him, and he winks at you. “From the look on my brother’s face, I can tell you that it’s working.”

You fight the urge to look at Aemond.

“I’m afraid I can’t share your concerns,” you are fiddling with hairpins absentmindedly.

Aegon shoots a glance over your shoulder and then back at you:

“He seems pretty bothered to me. Also pissed, but that may be my doing.”

“Look at you, my little helper,” you ramble as the cool air sneaks into the cuts of your dress, and you slightly quaver.

“Well, if you are ever in need of a helping hand...”

“I will not hesitate to stick this pin into your eye,” you cut him off.

“No need!” Aegon throws up his hands, cackling. “I'd like to keep them both. So I can have a better look at my brother’s reaction when you do... whatever you plan on doing,” the shit-eating grin on his face tells you that he is enjoying this.

But when you turn around and suddenly make eye contact with Aemond, your own enjoyment fades. You notice his frown and the probability of you being the reason for it doesn’t bring any satisfaction. You let Helaena lead you away, feeling his gaze on your back as you walk out.

You do not yield to your emotions, continuing with your plan, as days turn into weeks, and then a month goes by without you as much as sharing a word with Aemond. Truth be told, you want nothing more than to stay away from him at all costs but you will not give him the satisfaction. He said he didn’t like the way you dress — and you make sure he sees every single dress you are in. You stay within the bounds of decency as you definitely have no intention to disgrace yourself, and none of your dresses are borderline scandalous, contrary to what any prince may think. You deign to let him see the curve of your neck with your hair up high, the bending of your shoulders and the sunkissed skin of your arms, the arc of your knees and mere glimpses of the upper part of your legs. You leave the rest to his imagination — granted, he has a good one considering how much time he spends reading.

During the second month, his patience starts running out.

In the years you've known Helaena, you learned all the ins and outs of the castle, so you manage to avoid Aemond at first, vanishing from his sight when needed. But, as time passes, you notice that he is tempted to talk to you, and escaping that possibility becomes harder with each day. One morning, when you walk into the yard, Aemond abruptly stops his training upon seeing you, and the two of you just stare at each other for a second, both startled and holding your breath. You are saved by Ser Criston, who calls for the prince, distracting him, giving you a chance to leave, and you all but run away.

After that day, you temporarily cease your visits to the castle, deciding to take a break and make up weak excuses to Helaena. Only now that you were apart, you realize how much you miss Aemond’s physical presence. His sudden, fleeting touches — to help you out of a carriage or to steady you after a fit of laughter, your hands brushing when you share books, his fingers sometimes lightly grazing your waist for the reason you are yet to know. You haven't talked to him for days, let alone felt him in your close proximity, and yet he's constantly on your mind. Somewhere in the midst of it all, you wake up at night realizing you yearn for him terribly. You wish you could go back to that damn evening of the feast, to confront him right away, to maybe get some clarification. But now too much time has passed and you’re too wrapped up in... whatever you plan on doing, so your ego insists that giving up isn’t an option.

When you receive the invitation for Aegon’s name day, you are ready to decline, but then begrudgingly decide to give it one last chance. You practice the look of indifference, the nonchalant tone, the proud gait, and you pull out your best dress. It’s green and the color is so bright, it dazzles the eyes, the material light and flowing — and yet, when you put it on, it feels incomplete. As you look in the mirror, the vivid tone of the fabric suddenly reminds you of something else. It’s a secret you once heard, a hushed conversation between the maids, one of which walked in on the prince when he wasn’t wearing his eyepatch. You only ponder for a minute and then reach for the jewelry piece that definitely will be hard not to notice.

The castle is crowded, and you are one of the last guests to arrive. Bracing yourself, you pause at the door for a second. Ser Harrold, who stands there, lets out a surprised hum.

“Should I take that as a sign of your disapproval?” you jest, watching his reaction.

“I wouldn’t dare to judge,'” he gives you a polite smile. “But I'm afraid all the men present are at risk of losing reason.”

His comment makes you chuckle and you step a bit closer, letting him take a better look:

“I thought it would match the occasion. Isn’t it beautiful?”

Ser Harrold, gods bless him, keeps his eyes on your face:

“As always, it is, lady Y/N.”

It gives you enough confidence to walk in, appearing in all your glory.

The dress is a perfect fit, with a slit down your right side and an open back. The front neckline isn't deep but in the middle of it there's a thin silver chain with a big, glittering sapphire — and the gem lays perfectly between your breasts. It’s only natural that everyone’s gaze is immediately drawn to the blue spark, all the men in the room gazing at it, voluntarily and not. But the effect their attention has is nothing compared to the wave of heat that warms your body when you feel a very particular gaze finally landing on you. You look right at him — and you catch him gawking, his lips slightly parted as he stares at the sapphire, too, almost in a trance. His hand is gripping a cup of wine with such force, you can see the whitening of his knuckles. When Aemond sharply glances up, your eyes lock for a second, and you look away first. So much for him not being impressed.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Jace waving at you to come sit with him, and you do not hesitate, letting the one-eyed prince out of sight.

You feel like his eye doesn't leave you for a second.

You are barely able to sit still while dining and let out a sigh of relief when it's time for dancing. You rush away from the table, thinking it will provide you with a distraction, and you will be glad for any partner if only he can move his legs and keep his mouth shut. You go to the end of the line, lost in your thoughts, and when you finally come to a stop and look to the other side — you see Aemond standing in front of you.

The tall prince with his hands clasped behind his back, wearing all black, stares at you in a way that makes the crowd around you disappear.

When the dance starts, you step toward each other, and he speaks up first. 

“I couldn't help but notice your absence, lady Y/N. I find myself wondering what is the reason behind it,” his hand briefly touches yours, your bodies following the music.

“Your question is confusing, my prince. As I was merely doing you a favor,” you swap partners but Aemond only looks at you.

“Your leaving hardly favors me,” the prince says when you’re in his arms again. You feel a flicker of anger rising inside but keep your voice down.

“I was actually counting on you being relieved,” you snort, not looking at him. “Since, as it turned out, you were so displeased with my bawdy dresses,” with these words, you step away from him once more.

A minute later you come back to his side but don’t let him say a thing. 

“I've always thought bawdy was just another word for a whore. So I suppose I should be glad that you at least had some decency to not stoop so low,” when your eyes meet, you think you've never seen him so hurt.

Before he can come up with an answer, you are out of his reach. Then you circle back to Aemond again, and this time your tone comes out hasher.

“I also wonder if you would be so brave to say all that to my face. But it seems that your bravery falters when confronted with the need to speak plainly.”

The rhythm of the music works in your favor, because whenever Aemond tries opening his mouth, you’re swooped away from him, and it gives you time to tighten your self-control. You think you should resent him for his silly words, for his heavy gaze, for him knowing how to dance even though he never once did that with you in all these years.

But you have no resentment for him. All of a sudden you realize what you are actually feeling.

And then the dance comes to an end.

You only curtsy out of politeness, averting your gaze:

“I will not vex you anymore, my prince.”

“Y/N, wait, I should —,” he tries to take your hand but you swerve away from him.

“I already promised the next dance to someone else,” you lie. “You are finally free of my company.”

At that very second, when you glance at him before leaving, he looks absolutely heartbroken. Or maybe you just imagined it in an attempt to ease your own pain.

Your feet carry you to the library on their own accord, and you’re too distraught to notice until you are already inside, in the dusty silence of the endless shelves. You take a hold of the nearest one, trying to catch your breath. You barely get a minute of solitude before you hear footsteps approaching. And it’s kind of pathetic how easy it is for you to guess who it is.

“Your tendency to run away from me is quite unnerving,” Aemond walks in with rapid strides, his voice laced with emotion you can’t read. 

His words, however, trigger your reaction in no time. 

“Maybe it is because I do not want to be in the company of someone who hurt me,” you turn to him, and he’s already only a couple of meters away. The dim lighting illuminates his silver hair, the outline of his broad shoulders, his eye is boring into you. He looks so beautiful in his frustration, your chest tightens at the sight.

“I would've apologized right away if only you let me speak,” the prince retorts.

“Did something hold you back from apologizing sooner? Or were you too preoccupied with being outraged by my clothing choices?” your heart skips a bit at the intensity of his stare but you refuse to break the eye contact.

“I never said I was outraged.” 

“You weren't thrilled, either, you made that very clear.”

“You know nothing of my motives because you refuse to listen to me!” he raises his voice and it startles you. But he doesn’t sound angry.

Aemond is standing at arm’s length — and you can clearly see that his face expresses no signs of annoyance or hatred. Instead, he looks at you with longing.

The air in the room feels heavy.

You run your tongue over your lips to moisten them, and Aemond’s eye darts to your mouth.

“We can agree on one thing,” he drawls, his eye locking with yours again as he moves closer. You take a step back — and feel pressed against one of the shelves.

He speaks with his tone low:

“...You vex me to no end.”

With another step, Aemond towers over you, and when you look up, your faces are only inches apart, and his flaming gaze envelops you.

“You are the bane of my existence,” Aemond breathes out. “And the object of all my desires,” his voice breaks, and you feel him inhaling sharply.

His words are akin to a match that lights up a fire deep in you, the muscles of your stomach tightening involuntarily. With one finger he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, and you can’t help but lean into his touch, your breathing shuddering.

“I’m haunted by your image everywhere I go,” he rasps, his nose brushing yours. “Night and day, I dream of you,” his index finger moves under your chin, close to the pulsating point on your neck. You feel the heat spilling into the pit of your belly, and you want nothing more than for Aemond to kiss you.

“I was raised to act with honor, but that honor is hanging by a thread every minute I spend in your presence,” he whispers vehemently, his words hot against your mouth. 

You are dizzy, breathless — and craving him. Everything else is forgotten, erased, nonexistent. It’s just you two.

“You are all I can think about,” you confess with a strangled voice, looking at Aemond through your lashes — and it sets him off.

His lips capture yours in an instant, claiming and burning with need. He pulls you closer, his hands on your back, and yours go up his shoulders to lock behind his neck. Aemond kisses you deeply, hungrily, sweeping his tongue over your lower lip and then sliding it in, intertwining with yours. One of his palms moves lower, outlining the curve of your hip, glides over your leg — and into the slit of your dress. He grabs your thigh, his thumb landing on the inner side of it, and he starts slowly massaging small circles on it. Him touching your bare skin elicits a moan from you and in the heat of the moment, as your mind goes blank and you can only focus on the pleasuring sensation, you spread your legs, and his finger slips higher — to the place where you want him the most.

He breaks the kiss in surprise, and you wait for it to dawn on him. To realize that you are, in fact, completely naked under the dress. You can feel arousal pooling between your legs, your body prickling with anticipation.

“I was under the impression that you owe me an apology,” you unabashedly murmur, looking him straight in the eye. 

You don't know if it's a challenge or a plea — at this point, you do not care. Apparently, neither does Aemond, as he takes no time hoisting your leg up to his waist for better access, firmly holding it in place. Your respite barely lasts a few seconds before you feel his other hand cupping your sex, rubbing his fingers through your folds. You shut your eyes, gasping for air, as he unhurriedly smears your wetness — and then his finger dips into your core, the sensation making you shiver.

“Aemond,” you sign, your body trembling with desire.

Trying to inhale, you get a whiff of aroma, a mix of leather and salty ocean breeze — and all at once, you are surrounded by him. His scent, his warmth, his scorching touches, the taste that's left on your lips. He leaks into your every cell.

Aemond nuzzles into the crook of your neck, leaving wet kisses there, his finger picking up the pace.

“I've missed you,” he avows. “So fucking much,” he lightly nibbles the skin above your collarbone. “Missed hearing you say my name. Say it again.”

He doesn't need to ask twice — and the interweaving of letters rolls off your tongue with each breath:

“Aemond”

“Aemond”

“Aemond.”

His name fills your mouth, leaving no space for air, your throat tight and breathing rapid. Aemond’s lips move down to your shoulder.

“Oh, the things I want to do to you,” he haltingly rambles, and the implication makes you clench around him, dragging a low groan from the prince.

He leaves a trail of kisses following the silver chain down to your breasts. The gem feels cold in contrast to your skin, and even though your head is clouded with lust, it triggers a memory. You move one of your shaking hands to his face, guiding it up to look at you again.

“I want to see the real thing,” you whisper, gazing at his eyepatch. “Let me. Please, let me.”

His hand between your legs doesn't stop its movement but the one on your thigh trembles. You are too caught up in the moment to think straight, and before he can answer, your fingers roughly remove the leather patch.

The sapphire glows like a beacon, the cold blue of it is dazzling and piercing through your blurred vision. The tones and shadows are interlacing, cyan melting into azure and dark blue, and it’s mesmerizing. Seeing him like this, stripped of his restrain and his disguise, is the most intimate, precious thing in the world.

“Gods, you are divine,” you moan, panting.

You catch a flash of emotion in his eye — before you can take another breath, his lips are on yours again. This kiss is steady and fervent, and while his mouth melts into yours, Aemond adds a second finger. It slides in with ease, and he builds up the speed that makes you swallow air. He’s terrifyingly good with his fingers, with his every move, precise and fast. 

“Aemond,” you whimper in his mouth, but his lips keep chasing yours, and you can only follow, letting him take your breath away again and again. You lose track of time, lose yourself in his arms. His face is always close to yours, he breathes in every moan you make and keeps his gaze on you, watching you squirm, your cheeks flushed and lips quivering.

You helplessly whisper his name, and it comes out as a prayer, the coil in your stomach ready to snap. Aemond gives you a breathless smile:

“You do not need to beg me, ever,” he says in a husky voice. “I will give you anything you want,” with these words, he presses a thumb on your clit, resuming the well-known circling motion, making you choke on air.

It takes merely a few seconds for you to come undone, the wave of pleasure blinding and crushing over you. His lips are at the corner of your mouth, ready to cover it should you make any loud sound, but you drop your head back, mouth falling slack in a silent cry.

His fingers slow the pace until you let out a quiet whine, and he removes them, carefully lowering your leg. You feel fuzzy-headed, trying to catch your breath, a few beads of sweat rolling along your hairline. One of his hands gently falls on your back, rubbing soothing patterns on your skin.

“I truly am sorry, Y/N,” Aemond admits.

You chuckle lightly:

“I think you already made it up to me.”

Despite the hint of humor, there's an anxious feeling stirring in your abdomen, and you are afraid to open your eyes to meet his. You don't know what's to come and you dread the emptiness that will follow if he leaves.

Aemond tenderly cups your face with his hand:

“Mayhaps my intentions were not clear enough. I do plan to properly court you,” your eyes snap open at his words.

There's a brief pause before he adds:

“But I still need to apologize for my behavior because you deserved none of it. I was unfair with my judgment as I let jealousy get the best of me,” he sounds genuinely remorseful.

You glance at him in confusion, the gears turning in your head for a moment, and then you realize:

"You were jealous of Jace?!"

Aemond looks down at the floor, and there's something endearing in his evident embarrassment. With your thumb and index finger you caress the jut of his jaw and make him look at you again:

“Aemond, I can barely consider him a friend. And the boy can only think about Baela, he speaks of her as if she is the light of his life.”

“I know that feeling," Aemond doesn’t hide his smile anymore when he’s with you. He brings your hand to his lips, and the sincerity of his words tugs at your heart. He leaves kisses on your knuckles, and you’re overwhelmed with happiness spreading in your chest.

“Do you get that feeling every time we argue? Or when I challenge you?” you inquire with a giggle.

His laugh vibrates against your skin. When Aemond meets your gaze, there are no doubts and reservations left, no room for denial.

“My biggest challenge was not to fall in love with you. I failed miserably,” he puts both of his hands on your waist, drawing you closer. “But I will humble myself before you because I cannot stand the thought of us being apart ever again,” Aemond presses his forehead against yours.

“I don't plan on it,” you trace his scar with your finger, giving him goosebumps. “But you do know there still will be days when we vex each other to no end?” your voice is barely audible.

He moves his mouth to yours and, before bringing your lips together, he whispers:

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And neither would you.

the author doesn’t know how to shut up: — the dress is from “Atonement” (although I imagined her neckline a bit differently) — I haven’t written smut in a very long time so... I hope it was okay? any thoughts and comments will be very appreciated because I’m super nervous about this 🥺 (not gonna lie, this was kinda self-indulgent so I hope that at least some of you will enjoy it, too!)

* I know there is an amazing fic called “bane of my existence, object of my desire” by @ jasonsmirrorball — I love it to pieces and highly recommend it! 💕 💚 my masterlist English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

#aemond targaryen #I am very VERY nervous about that smut-ish scene #but I just couldn’t stop myself #isn’t making out in the library one of the best tropes? ‘cause it is to me #ALSO I know you guys are probably thinking will my female characters ever stop throwing punches? #the answer is no because I choose violence ♥ #and I would punch any man for Helaena because she’s a ray of sunshine and it’s a fact #my stuff #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond one eye #aemond one eye x y/n #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfics #aemond targaryen fics #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfiction #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut

[random-brushstrokes]

Vincenzo Abbati (Italian, 1803 – 1866) - Fireworks in Venice, the Feast of the Redeemer

#Vincenzo Abbati #italian art #nightscape #cityscape #venice

[iluvfinnmertens]

Hii, how are you? I hope you're doing well.

I am here to put a request!

Hazbin Hotel x male reader who transmigrated into the show!

I don't ask for ships but if you wanna add some feel free to do so.

Thank you!

જ⁀➴ Hazbin Hotel x transmigrated! male reader (EPISODE: INTRO) ๋࣭ ⭑

you have been brought to hell and theres a lot of faces to meet! <;3

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˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Details: ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

๋࣭ ⭑ Request: requested :D

๋࣭ ⭑ TW: none!

๋࣭ ⭑ Word Count: 890

๋࣭ ⭑ Timeline: a couple days before episode 1

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You were walking home from your boring ass job. You worked at a small local coffee shop. You had to deal with a lot of business and angry customers for being upset over having to wait despite seeing how many fucking people there were. You wanted nothing more than to flop on your bed and never wake up. You opened your apartment door and were met with your cat Angel. He was a white fluffy cat that you named after Angel Dust, a character from your favorite show Hazbin Hotel. You pat his head and he responds by pushing up into your hand. You go get his food bag and pour some into his small food bowl. He gladly accepts it and feasts like hes been starved for years.

You sigh and open your room door changing into some pajama pants and a shirt covered in dried hair dye. You flop on the bed as Angel hops up too. You curl under the blanket sighing in relief at the comfiness of your bed. Angel curls up next to you as you pet him, suddenly everything goes white. You were confused, did you fall asleep? No, you didn't think so, if you were sleeping why could you think? Did you die? You were very confused before you opened your eyes and noticed a ceiling of a room that definitely was not yours.

You sat up abruptly confused as fuck. Where the fuck were you? You sat up from the bed and noticed you have platforms on? Who the fuck sleeps in platforms? You walked up to the window and noticed a familiar red sky and pentagram in the sky. You shudder in fear. What. The. Fuck. You notice and mirror and rush up to it noticing a change in appearance. You looked like a humanoid bat. You had light gray skin, black fluffy hair with bubblegum pink accents and big bat ears. You had big eyes that were black with pink heart shaped pupils, small white freckles and big bat wings with heart marks on them. You were dressed in a lazy band tee and black jeans. You were very confused. Were you in Hazbin Hotel? This has to be a weird lucid dream or something.

You walk to the door you assumed led to the hallway and peeked your head out not noticing anybody there. You then crept down the hall looking around and listening when you suddenly heard voices. You could hear Charlie and Vaggie talking about the commercial like in the first episode. You clearly had good hearing cause you could hear them very clearly from how far they are. You peaked down the stairs and noticed the collection of characters you'd seen plenty of times. You were grateful no one had noticed when suddenly you heard from over your shoulder, “Now who might you be?” in that radio-like voice. You jumped and fell down the stairs laying down for a moment at the bottom when you noticed Charlie hovering over you. “Oh my gosh are you okay?!” she says offering you a hand which you accept and stand up. “I'm fine…” you say, shakily still frightened by this whole ordeal. “Damnnnnn who's the cutie?~” you heard Angel say in a sleazy flirty voice leaning over the back of the couch.

Your face heats up at that. “Um, I'm [name]..” you mutter out, still spooked by what's going on. “Where exactly did you come from?” Vaggie says, holding her spear to your throat. You raise your hands in defense but Charlie moves the spear aside along with Vaggie and smiles at you. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! Are you interested in being redeemed?” she asks with stars in her eyes. “Oh…” you think over your options, you can't just tell them you're from a universe where they are a tv show. They wouldn't believe you. “Yes, I would like to be redeemed.” you reply finally and Charlie jumps in excitement. “You're gonna love it here! I'm Charlie!” she says pointing at herself before shaking your hand. “This is my girlfriend Vaggie,” Vaggie stares suspiciously at you, its as if she knows your keeping something from them. “This is Angel,” she points to Angel who eyes you up and down with a smirk. “Hey sweetheart~” he winks and your face heats up but Charlie pushes you off to the bar and gestures to Husk “This is our bartender Husk!” Husk just waves before going back wiping glasses. Before you know it you feel someone crawling up you and Niffty is now in your face. “Oooo another bad boy!” Charlie removes Niffty from your chest and shoos her off. “That's Niffty our housekeeper.” she says and looks around but as thats happening Alastor shadows himself behind you “You aren't from around here are you?” he asks with an eyebrow raise but Charlie turns around before you can answer. “Oh and this is Alastor!” Alastor holds his hands out as if nothing happened. “Hello! Pleasure to meeting you, quite a pleasure!” You just slightly smile as Charlie then begins showing you random places around the hotel.

You can feel Alastors stare burning a hole into your back. You were still quite confused. How in the hell did you get into Hazbin Hotel and… will you ever get out?

DUH DUH DUHHHHHHHH

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should I continue this? and also yes you are a bat just like my oc because yes

notes are appreciated!! d(･∀･)b

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taglist: patronizingbitch

#hazbin hotel #fanfictions #hazbin hotel x reader #x male reader #request #hazbin hotel x male reader #story #fanfiction #fanfic #romantic #plantonic #gay #mlm #transmigrated reader #intro

[nina-ya]

Happy Birthday- Sanji Edition

A/N: This was written for the lovely @uminozerol for her very special day!! Happy birthday my love <3 Pairing: Sanji x Reader CW: None WC: 1454

Sanji rose early on the morning of your birthday, driven by the desire to craft a perfect day for you. His plan was set: to surprise you with breakfast in bed, followed by a stroll along the beach, a gorgeous picnic featuring a delicately prepared mushroom risotto paired with an expensive bottle of red wine, all culminating in watching the breathtaking sunset together and sharing some delightful desserts. The grand finale of your special day was a handcrafted necklace adorned with a stunning topaz, a precious gem carefully fashioned by artisans on the island just for you. It was intended to be a perfect day, a gesture of affection meant to make your birthday unforgettable.

However, fate had other ideas. Just as Sanji finished preparing your breakfast in bed, some of the other crew members entered the kitchen, led by Luffy whose eyes immediately zeroed in on the spread meant exclusively for you. In the blink of an eye, Luffy devoured the breakfast, leaving Sanji visibly shocked and disheartened by the unexpected turn of events. Moreover, your unplanned arrival in the kitchen meant there was no chance for Sanji to quickly prepare another surprise. Determined not to let the morning lose its sparkle, he proceeded to carefully prepare a fresh breakfast, serving it to you with enthusiasm, a radiant smile adorning his face as he warmly greeted you with a cheerful, "Happy birthday." 

As the day unfolded, Sanji clung to the hope that the unexpected morning mishap could be salvaged. "It's okay," he reassured himself, determined to carry out the remainder of his plans. He threw himself into the kitchen, preparing the white mushroom risotto that was a part of the day's intended feast. He also took the time to bake a batch of vanilla cupcakes, accompanied by some smooth vanilla frosting, knowing full well that they were your absolute favorite.

To maintain the element of surprise, Sanji had orchestrated a diversion, sending Nami and Robin with you to explore the island and take you shopping. While you were away, he set the mushroom risotto to cook.

A burst of chaos erupted. A group of pirates attempted to invade the Thousand Sunny, forcing Sanji and the rest of the crew to respond swiftly and protect the ship. They defeated the intruders with little difficulty, but the time they spent dealing with the pirates allowed a thick cloud of smoke to billow from the kitchen, signaling the unfortunate demise of the risotto.

Sanji's irritation was palpable as he surveyed the scene, shaking his head in disbelief, feeling that the day couldn't possibly get any worse. Sanji frantically ransacked his brain, searching for any way to save the day. His thoughts fell on the dessert, the precious cupcakes that he had so carefully baked and topped with vanilla frosting – a beacon of hope among the challenges he had faced. He was determined to make the best of the situation.

Opening the fridge with a sense of urgency, he reached for the cupcakes to complete the last piece of the puzzle, breathing a sigh of relief at the prospect of redeeming the day. But as he gazed inside, the heart-wrenching sight that met his eyes left him in disarray. The cupcake tray lay in shambles, its contents devoured or strewn about the fridge. Bits and pieces of cupcake mingled with the remnants of vanilla frosting, an explosive mess. 

The scene left him in an absolute state of distress, a mix of desperation and rage surging through him. In a frantic panic to salvage what remained, Sanji sifted through the wreckage of cupcakes and frosting, hoping and praying for a glimmer of hope. To his relief, he managed to retrieve a single uneaten cupcake from the scene.

He rushed to create a fresh batch of frosting, working quickly to decorate the lone cupcake with as much care as he could muster. Time was of the essence as he put the final touches on his makeshift dessert before you returned to the Thousand Sunny, his commitment to making your birthday special unshaken despite the day's unexpected setbacks.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the night sky with its final hues and casting shimmering stars, you finally returned to the Thousand Sunny. Nami and Robin, who knew Sanji's surprise plans for your birthday, had directed you to meet him in the kitchen for your special birthday dinner. Filled with anticipation, you hurriedly made your way to the kitchen, your mind racing with thoughts of the foods Sanji might have prepared to celebrate your special day.

With anticipation, you swung open the door, your eyes brimming with excitement. However, the sight that greeted you was unexpected. A single candle cast a soft, gentle glow, bathing the kitchen in a warm luminescence. In the faint light, you could just make out Sanji, who held a single cupcake, his nervousness obvious.

He approached you, nervously carrying the cupcake, his voice trembling as he began to explain. "I, uh, had this whole plan to make the perfect day for you. I was going to start with breakfast in bed, and then, well, we should have been on the beach by now for dinner, but, you see, everything got ruined," he stammered, his nerves taking over.

A tender smile graced your lips as you observed the cupcake and the flickering candle. With a gentle exhale, you leaned forward and closed your eyes, extinguishing the candle's flame with your breath. The darkness momentarily silenced Sanji's rambling, enveloping the two of you in a quiet moment.

He resumed his explanation with a touch of regret, "I'm really sorry that I couldn't do more for you—"

But before he could finish, you silenced him, leaning in and enveloping him in a sweet, tender kiss. Breaking the kiss, you offered your soft and heartfelt response, "Sanji, this is absolutely perfect." 

Sanji, if visible in the dark, would be seen blushing profusely, a deep crimson hue painting his face. He stood there, frozen, almost as if the kiss had rendered him momentarily speechless. However, your soft laughter broke through the quiet air. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself, and cautiously diverted the conversation, “Uh, so, what did you wish for?”

In response, you playfully teased, “That's for me to know and for you to find out,” a smile evident in your voice.

Sanji laughed softly, the tension dissolving, “Yeah, forgot the whole ‘keep your wish a secret’ thing.” He suggested wine, and upon your agreement, he navigated the darkened kitchen to retrieve a bottle of red wine and glasses. Leading you to the deck of the Thousand Sunny, he settled by your side. Pouring wine into glasses, he presented one to you. You both indulged in your birthday cupcake, savoring every bite of the sweet delight, washing it down with the wine. 

As the night deepened, the ambiance aboard the Thousand Sunny grew more peaceful. The night sky above was decorated with shimmering stars. Wrapped in the serene embrace of the night, you and Sanji continued to enjoy each other's company, sipping wine, laughter reverberating across the deck, leading to a comforting and intimate scene, the passage of time marked by the emptying wine bottle.

As you both sat on the deck, the necklace, a masterpiece of intricate craftsmanship, lay cradled in his hand, its radiant topaz gem gleaming in the sunlight. Sanji leaned closer, his voice tender and filled with affection, as he said, "I have a little something for you," He then gently placed the necklace around your neck, letting the cool touch of the gem grace your skin. It sparkled brightly, a reflection of the joy and admiration in his eyes as he fastened the clasp. 

You couldn't help but gasp in surprise as Sanji presented the topaz necklace. Its elegance was striking, and you were taken aback by the thoughtful gesture. The gem sparkled against the warmth of the moonlight, and as he delicately secured the clasp around your neck, you felt the smooth, cool touch of the gem against your skin. Overwhelmed by the beauty of the necklace and touched by his heartfelt gesture, you turned to him with a beaming smile, expressing your gratitude. "Sanji, it's stunning," you said, touched by the thoughtful gift. "Thank you so much. It's perfect."

Lying side by side, gazing up at the star-studded sky, the gentle ocean breeze whispered secrets of the sea as the ship bobbed steadily. As sleep began to claim the night, you nestled into a comfortable position, resting your head on Sanji's chest. He planted a soft, tender kiss on your forehead. "Happy birthday," he whispered, his voice barely audible amidst the night's calm, before succumbing to sleep beside you.

#one piece #one piece x reader #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji

[kinopio-writes]

Waltz in from the depths

May I request some headcanons for sir pentious x a reader who is very tall n strong who does gardening and landscaping around the hotel ? The reader kind of gives off old dad vibes personality wise! Unsure how descriptive you want asks so I hope this is okay!!

-Definitely NOT the silly corner 🐹

A/N: The description is perfectly fine! Shoutout to @the-s1lly-corner—who definitely did NOT send in this request—for reblogging my stuff! Anyway, congrats Sir Pentious! You’re the first character I’ve written on this blog! Just like how you’re the first character to be redeemed. Btw, this turned out to be neither platonic nor romantic. Interpret it however you like! Sorry if it sucks, lol. Trying to get used to writing for other people.

Warnings: None

———

Sir Pentious x Tall&Strong Gardener!Reader w/ old dad vibes

Since you said the reader does gardening and landscaping around the hotel, I’m going to make them a staff member. Specifically one that was there pre-Sir Pentious’s arrival

• being intimidated was an understatement

• he definitely (cartoonishly) gulped upon seeing your shadow overcast his entire body—hat included!

• Sir Pentious would do his best to avoid you after the initial encounter

• he was your number one suspect as to who was plotting to kill him

• if the fact that you were holding a scythe every time he saw you had anything to say! (reminder; you’re a gardener)

• every time he saw you, his hood would flare in alarm and he would slither away immediately

• he’d only look at you from a distance

• by that I mean that he would spy on you with binoculars while you harmlessly do your thing

• he would be in his room, creating something that would be effective in dealing with you

• “Aha! Behold! (Name)-repellent 10000!”

• all of this doesn’t go unnoticed, of course

• but every time you would try to talk to him, he’d have an unpleasant expression on his face (you can see this expression a lot in episode 2 when Charlie was with Pentious)

• you’d eventually get the message and stop bothering him

• only after episode 3, where everyone had to participate in trust exercises, was when he started to warm up to you

• after the whole ordeal with Vaggie’s idea of building up trust, you’d compliment him for being a resilient little guy with a pat on his back and his guarded persona would start to crumble

• now that you’d get to know each other normally, he’d naturally gravitate towards you because of your laid-back attitude

• not to mention you were more of a listener

• he can yap endlessly about his inventions or whatnot and you’d actually listen!

• he’d constantly try to appeal for your approval as well (like with Lucifer and Vox)

• while he had no interest in gardening, he would try to help

• feast your eyes upon his watering invention; Sodden Grounds 13000!

• you’d give him a pat on the back. “Thanks, little guy. This would help a lot with my time. I appreciate it.”

• his heart would swell and he’d burst into tears

• no one had praised him for his inventions before

• except for his eggbois, but they didn’t count

• they’d just get wrecked to oblivion most of the time (looking at you, Alastor)

• after that, he would be more eager to make your daily tasks easier

• too eager at times

• he was really just chasing that dopamine rush of being acknowledged for his achievements

• so don’t forget to remind him to relax from time to time

#hazbin hotel x reader #sir pentious x reader #hazbin hotel sir pentious #kinopiowrites

[jaimeslayers]

The Things I Do For Love: A Jaime Lannister Analysis 

So much discussion around Jaime revolves around the theme of redemption. What does it mean? Is it possible? How does one redeem themselves? However, another core aspect of what Jaimes character is all about is love, what he will do for it, and how it changes him.

When we first meet Jaime he is the mirror image of Cersei: beautiful, so confident that it is bordering on arrogance, and cruel. This is reflected in their incestuous relationship, one that has lasted since the twins were children. This relationship stems from the idea of Lannister supremacy encouraged and fostered by Tywin. It is through Tywin’s actions such as the extermination of the Reyne and Castamere families that the Lannister siblings learned that anyone who wasn’t a Lannister was inferior and beneath them. It is this sort of lion's pride that lives in each of them, even Tyrion. When it comes to Jaime and Cersei it manifests itself in their incestuous relationship. To them no one else was worthy of themselves, only another Lannister, and who else could they turn to but their identical twin? Through time the twins developed an “us versus them” mentality. That no one else mattered but them. It is this codependency that only grew as they grew up. It is this mentality that is key to understanding Jaime’s own identity.

Due to the belief that they were each other's mirror image, Jaime created an image of Cersei based off of himself. He thinks that Cersei may be a little mean and does some bad stuff but isn’t evil. It is this false image that helps Jaime repress (of which he often does with uncomfortable truths) the fact that Cersei is unnecessarily cruel and abusive towards his beloved little brother Tyrion. It makes it easier for him to love her too. It is this love for his siblings that defines Jaime. While a horrible thing to do, the whole reasoning behind pushing Bran out the window after catching the twins having sex is out of perverse protective love for Cersei. Jaime knows that she and himself will be killed if the truth comes out. While one can argue he also was considering the lives of their children it’s only till Feast that Jaime begins to care about Tommen. This protective nature also manifests itself later in AGOT when Jaime and his men kill Ned’s escort due to Tyrion being kidnapped and being placed under arrest. Yet another morally dubious action done out of love for his siblings. However, it is this love and ego that eventually shatters when Jaime loses his sword hand.

So much of Jaime’s identity revolved around his sword hand. It was the hand he used to kill Aerys and touch Cersei alongside many other things central to his person. By having it cut off Jaime learns that Lannisters can indeed be hurt just like any other person breaking down his image of an invulnerable golden Lannister. Through losing his hand, he is forced to ask himself the questions of who he really is and what that looks like. For a while, he holds onto the love for his siblings, especially his mirror image Cersei. However, it is this image that shatters. For Cersei, she sees that Jaime no longer resembles her and for this she goes cold. This being in direct contrast to Jaime’s idea that the love and codependency that they had created for themselves was unconditional. His relationship with Tyrion also implodes in ASOS with the Tysha reveal. The relationship with the twins further breaks down not simply due to Jaime now knowing of Cersei’s infidelity but also her growing darker nature. It is this that also shatters the mirror image. Cersei is unnecessarily cruel by burning down the Tower of the Hand with wildfire. By comparing her to Aerys, it is clear that Jaime’s image of her being just like him is gone. It is likely she has woken up his trauma that he desperately tries to repress. Jaime learns that her cruelty is not his own despite his prior morally dubious actions. While this relationship breaks down another grows. This being his relationship with Brienne.

In a direct contrast to Jaime and Cersei’s relationship, the dynamic that exists between Jaime and Brienne is based on reality not delusion. Brienne sees the worst in Jaime through his ego and knows of his most horrible acts. She bluntly calls him out on these and judges him for them. On the other hand Jaime insults her and plays on her insecurities. However, it is the loss of his hand that things change for the two. While still not friends directly after the injury, Jaime ensures Brienne is not assaulted after all the abuse both him and her have faced. Upon their arrival at Harrenhal, Jaime makes sure that her wounds are cared for as much as his.  For Brienne she learns the truth behind Jaime’s murder of Aerys. Through this and many other actions such as Jaime rescuing her from the bear and giving her Oathkeeper, she sees that there is some good in the man. On the flip side, Jaime develops one of the first relationships in his life with someone who is not a Lannister. He learns to both see and respect that Brienne is her own person, one that is complicated and does her own thing. It is this what Jaime is becoming. As such, Brienne is not a plot device for Jaime’s development but rather a catalyst. Through her Jaime learns to care about another individual and care deeply.

While we don’t know where Jaime’s story will go just yet. Perhaps he is the Valonqar or maybe he will be killed by Stoneheart. Regardless of where he goes it's clear that love and his falling out of it and arguably his falling into it has greatly defined his arc and who he is.

#asoiaf #pureasoiaf #jaime lannister #brienne of tarth #bramie #jaime x brienne #cersei lannister #tyrion lannister #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf meta

[delicatuscii-wasbella102]

Ferruccio Scattola (1873-1950) The Feast of the Redeemer in Venice

[anoray]

I've rewatched some key episodes from The Bad Batch Seasons 1 & 2 in anticipation of the series finale. While it's fresh in my mind, just sharing my two cents on what could possibly happen based on the prior events and character arcs.

Hunter: He's always been extremely reticent to join in Rex and Echo's efforts to help the clones even as the Empire uses and discards them for nefarious purposes. Hunter only gets involved if it will save a member of his own crew/family. He wants Omega to be safe and have a "normal" life in a place like Pabu, but at the same time, I'm doubting born-and-bred-soldier Hunter feels like he'd ever truly fit into such a life himself. It seems the major turn left for Hunter is to finally choose to throw himself full-throttle not only into saving Omega, but the clones imprisoned on Tantiss as well. Hunter can see by now that if Omega's ever going to have any chance of being safe, Hemlock and his research must be destroyed to the point she is no longer of use to the Emperor. If Hunter's arc goes this way, it is likely to cost him his life, but his sacrifice will have huge, positive ripple effects on Omega and everyone he saves in the process. I certainly don't want him to die, but the odds are definitely not in his favor knowing how SW has a penchant for killing off the father mentor.

Crosshair: He is the Batcher who has always questioned Hunter's leadership going back to before his chip was superzapped to follow the Empire's orders. Now that he's back with the Batch and clearly on a path to redemption thanks to Omega (similar to the redemption of Kallus in Rebels), I will be surprised if he is killed off in the finale. They seem to be setting him up to become the new main protector for Omega (with Hunter trusting him in that capacity despite what happened in Ep. 11). It seems possible Crosshair could become the new leader of what is left of the Batch if Hunter does indeed perish in the attack on Tantiss.

Wrecker: The Big Guy is going to survive (and I will include Batcher the space pit bull dog in this prediction). If they intended Wrecker to bite the dust, I think it would have happened with the demise of the Marauder. When Omega put Lula away with Tech's goggles, this seemed more about her putting away her childhood once and for all, not a premonition of Wrecker meeting a sad fate. Then again, they could pull out a Gregor's fate for Wrecker at the end just to feast on our tears.

Tech: As I've mulled over in other posts, I'm now 99% sure CX-2 is a Winter Soldier Tech. In the four remaining episodes, I don't expect they will even begin to redeem him, but maybe Omega figures out it is Tech and then the Batchers incapacitate him in some way to take him away in their escape from Tantiss. Perhaps it will be up in the air whether or not AZI the med droid and Omega can help Tech be anything like his real self again, but at least there will be hope. My thought is that if the team loses Hunter, I think the writers will counter that by restoring Tech to the team (I am recalling how my blorbo Kanan died but it led to Ahsoka's return). Maybe this is all clown-wig crazy talk, but Tech's my main blorbo in this series, so why not stay on the denial train for a bit longer?

Omega: Definitely will not die. I am quite sure she will insist on helping the children "specimens" escape (insert Zillo beast shenanigans here) and Emerie will be very much involved in how this all takes place. At the very least, Omega may convince Emerie to secretly transmit the Tantiss coordinates so Hunter and the others can find them. The big question with Omega is what the writers have in mind for her character beyond this series when it comes to the extent of her Force sensitivity. There is the possibility she will go train with Ventress and/or she and the Batchers will get absorbed into Rex's crew at least for a while to continue to help clones in need.

Echo: To be honest, his presence in the Batch has been very off and on due to his dedication to helping his fellow clones from the Empire's mistreatment (which Hunter has not wanted to be part of). So he already seems detached from the main Batch in many respects. As such, I'm thinking Echo will survive the attack on Tantiss to be part of whatever is planned for Rex's continuation story. Also, since I don't think Cody is CX-2, he could be part of the calvalry charge with Rex and Echo as their forces back up the Batcher's rescue of Omega. It would be great to see Rex, Cody, and Echo free their brothers from Tantiss, and I hope we won't lose either Echo or Cody in the process.

The Empire: Hemlock & Co. will suffer a major setback, but it remains to be seen if the Bad Doctor will be taken out (and by who) in the process. Emerie is very likely to die if she fully turns on Hemlock, but they could surprise us with her escaping along with the children under her charge. Nala Se is pretty much a goner and I doubt she'd cooperate again no matter what the Empire does to her at this point if she knows that Omega and the other children are safely away.

Well, that's all I've got, we'll see how much I got wrong when the credits roll. For now, here come the storm clouds of battle--and may our heroes prevail!

#the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #ponderings on the finale #hunter #crosshair #wrecker #tech #omega #echo #dread and excitement in equal measure

[lerelene]

UPD

He's a total asshole

She's a badass softie

He was showing zero redeeming qualities when she fell for him while still pining for her first love - He's getting a perfect redemption arc while retaining his core bitch personality

He had a bit of a soft spot for her from the start (I believe) specifically because she had no problem threatening him with a switchblade - She got a soft spot for him after witnessing firsthand that he can love

She kissed him. Twice

He rejected her. Twice

He kissed her many times after

Oh, he kinda hit her after the first kiss (it was accidental but the asshole still didn't apologize) - She hit him accidentally too (didn't apologize either but came to check on him)

They sang together in an empty nightclub (there were two naked souls on the stage!) - They sang together in a full club (still completely emotionally naked, both of them)

He said that if she was the one to stab him at least he would die with a smile on his face - He said that if they died, they'd die together

She actually stabbed him some time later - She got stabbed in the exact same spot

He said he deserved it and to get away from the scene before someone saw her - She apologized for stabbing him and he said again that he deserved it, unlike her

She was going to but returned and got him to a doctor - He said he was never leaving her and kept his word

He never told anyone who did it but his loving mother found out anyway and knew he did some shit to deserve it

She was so shocked from what she did and hurt from what he did that she spent the whole night out in the cold and fell ill

He snuck from his house and into hers (with a fresh stab wound) to check on her

She was feverish and the only thing she managed to say to him was that she hated him - She was on the verge of dying and the most important thing for her was to tell him that she loved him

He definitely doesn't hate her - Of course he told her that he loves her too

He told her brother figure "she's in love with me" to provoke him into a beating - Her brother figure teases her about their romance now

She tells him off her brother and tells Him to let her go while she's the one who grabbed his collar

He replies that he'll let her go when she does the same (it doesn't feel like he means just her hand on his jacket. especially with the way they're staring at each other. the scene is magical) - He tells her that he cannot let her go in the most romantic circumstance

He's still a total bastard to her loved ones - He's still a sarcastic bastard but now in a much more entertaining way

She sees through him and tells him that he might like getting punished (kinkyyyyyyy) but she doesn't need a dog

He says she's in love with him again - He asks her to repeat her confession or he's not gonna stop trying to snog her

She slams his damn head into a mirror - She jokes she doesn't remember what he's talking about

He's completely feral for this girl - He captures her and kisses her against a wall 😭

There is a group standoff scene where she has her switchblade to his torso and then his throat

They both know she can use it on him (because she already did once) but there's more sexual tension than dangerous tension (even while surrounded by like 40 people including both of their families)

I have a feeling she's gonna be revealed pregnant and it's going to add SO MUCH MORE drama

I'm kinda feasting on this ship it's SO fcked up and delicious!

I don't think there ever was a better written and developed enemies-to-lovers trope than these two

#aslaz #yabani #yabani spoilers