#He WISHES they could break the oath

[erendur]

"The sons of Fëanor should have broken their oath !" "Why did they not break their oath ?"

"Many quailed to hear the dread words. For so sworn, good or evil, an oath may not be broken, and it shall pursue oath-keeper and oathbreaker to the world's end."

Literally, the first thing we are told about the oath after they swear it.

[endless-ineffabilities]

the sapphire and his sun

Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

Musings about Aemond Targaryen and the only one he truly needs. His one true hope and love. His beloved wife.

a/n : i had to write something after that episode! holy Aemond! This pretty much wrote itself and I could expand it in the future ~ if inspiration strikes true!

word count : <2k ▪︎ masterlist

Aemond used to think his only solace was himself.

His mother had never been much of a mother in her own right, too muddled in the web of deceit that she and Otto spin at their fancy. Criston posited as something of a father figure, but his true loyalty is to his Queen. His brother has always been a wastrel, and his sister wasting away in her own mind.

Aemond never had anyone. Not truly.

Until you.

He still remembers the day you walked into his life, a lone ray of sunlight breaking through the clouds of stormy grey. You appeared to be a frail-hearted young lady, eager to please and to be a devoted wife to her prince. All the while he saw your spirit dimmed from being offered by her House to be Prince Aemond's newly betrothed.

All to secure an alliance.

There was no promise of loyalty or love. Being the prince, he is able to take into bed any whore he wishes. But one look at you - just the one - and all thought of any other lover vanished from his mind.

The first night he was supposed to take you to bed and consummate your marriage, the meek cast in your eyes had disappeared, and in its place a defiant glint he hadn't seen before.

"If I am to be used by my prince, I will do it with the remaining shred of my dignity. I will not cry, I will not beg for a life I have already lost. If all that I am now is a vessel for duty, then so be it." You looked at him, as if for the first time, and with the flames dancing across your face, Aemond would remember that moment as when his sun first shone down on him.

He felt his anger flare for but a moment, his constant fear of being betrayed taking over him. Had everything been an act? Was this to be a marriage of unpleasantry and resentment?

But it quickly dawned on him that the act - the betrayal - was that if his wife was willing to play a fool and dance under his strings like some marionette.

He preferred this. He preferred you.

"Mayhaps I will not bed you tonight, my lady wife. Not yet," he had said, your face slowly twisting in surprise. "I will let you keep more than just your dignity, for you will also possess the choice. Trust that it is only for the time being, at least, until it is imperative that I produce an heir. From this moment forward, I swear to take no else to bed as it is my oath as your husband."

He watched the minute switches in your expression. The wariness. The confusion. The relief. And he already felt it then, as silly as the notion might be, that you had recognised who he really was and that you accepted him.

Aemond was no scoundrel. He wasn't a villain in your story. He wasn't some mighty, untouchable prince.

He was a boy. He was now your husband. He had decency. He had a heart.

And you may not have yet realised, but this heart - wretched as it might have been - he was surrendering it to you.

With the turn of the moon came ill tidings - the death of his father Viserys. Although he was also not much of a father to begin with. Aemond felt numb to it all and there was no time for any emotion to take root, for the conspiracy festered like an open wound. His brother was to be made king.

"Must you go and find him?" you asked. "What if something were to happen?"

He had been blank and unfeeling, unsure of what to make his father's passing. But then, some warmth bloomed in him at your concern. His darling wife cared. He hadn't yet been allowed to indulge in the pleasures of your flesh, but your nights were filled with conversation and confiding.

He took your hands and pressed a kiss atop each one. "It is I who understands Aegon's doings, my wife. Ser Criston is in need of my aid. My brother would sooner sail away than fulfil his duty, which is why he must return at all cost."

"Let him sail away. Let him go and live as he pleases, husband. He never possessed the temperament of a king. You on the other hand... "

His father is dead. His brother could be gone. The enemy encroaches.

But gods be damned, you believed in him.

Aemond didn't know for certain what happiness felt like, he'd never had a single taste of it. And how morbid it was for him to possibly feel it then. But...

"You would make a far better ruler than anyone, and I don't just say that because I am your wife."

Happiness. How fascinating.

How utterly... simple.

For he realised that he had felt it before. Not even in grand moments, no, but in the littlest of things.

He had felt it when you once laughed in pure bliss when he first rode with you atop Vhagar.

When you would help fasten him into his training armour.

When he would watch as you read one of your stories.

His happiness was standing right in front of him. His ray of light, his sun.

And his sun persisted even when he singlehandedly cast the realm into macabre blacks and greens.

Shaken and despondent, he stumbled into your chambers to deliver the news to you first. In the passing hour, everything will change. Will you turn on him too?

"It was an accident," he confessed. "I thought I could control Vhagar, but... she is her own beast. She always has been. I admit I was angry and it was my folly to seek vengeance, but I did not mean to... " His voice broke, and he felt your finger wipe at something wet from his cheek.

He did not even notice that he was crying.

You still said nothing, so he grew frightful. What if nothing he said would ever be enough? No explanation, no apology. He can't lose his light.

"I never held any love for him," he carried on painfully, "but he was my blood. And I... I just - "

"It wasn't your fault, Aemond."

A ray of hope. A remaining strength.

You repeat, "I believe you, and it wasn't your fault."

It mattered not whether his mother would shun him, or his grandsire would frown upon his gruesome action. Rhaenyra was coming for him, as sure as dragonfire, and he would soon have to face the consequences of his actions.

But none of that worried him, not then.

He had to stay alive, however he can, so that he can protect you. It was not remiss of him to overlook that the ladywife of Lucerys' apparent murderer would also have a target on her back.

Aemond knew that the fight was inevitable, and he was going to win it. For you.

In tears, in love, in pale shades of grief, he kissed you with everything he had in him.

A solemn promise. A declaration of love.

"No one shall know the truth of it, my love."

"What do you mean?"

"They will not know, but you will. And that is all that matters. There is no stopping it now and I must face the war head on. What the realm will come to accept is that I intended to fell my nephew and that I do not regret doing so. They have to fear me. This is how I can keep you safe."

"Aemond - "

"Do you trust me?"

The only thing that mattered, the one answer that decided whether he bent or broke. The Seven Kingdoms were to be covered in gloom and shadow, its fields marred with blood and many a broken bone.

His world, however - his world still had light.

"I trust you. With everything I have, I do."

To be tagged in Aemond or Daemon fics, comment on this post !

[cherimoyatea]

The LaDs Men healing your inner child...

...they accidentally evoke your insecurities and comfort you.

❧ Part III - Zayne - Healing Hearts

Pairing: Zayne x You Synopsis: You pretend to be fine when Zayne is called back to work on his day off. Word count: 901 Tags: workaholic zayne, disappointment, neglect, romance, fluff, comfort Side notes: Wow, are we already at Part III? Zayne's story is actually the reason why I created a mini-series instead of posting all four stories at once. It simply got too long, and I had to rewrite the other stories to match their length. In this part, we address the theme of rejection and neglect, but luckily, we have Zayne to help us realize that our feelings matter. Part I - Xavier ❧ Part II - Rafayel ❧ Part IV Sylus

Beep-Beeeep.

A sharp sound cuts through the peaceful moment as you lie on the couch with Zayne. Still exhausted from yesterday's mission, your head rests on his lap, and you're about to fall asleep halfway through the movie while his fingers softly stroke your hair.

He carefully leans forward to reach for his pager on the coffee table while you rub your sleepy eyes. Noticing Zayne's serious expression you slowly sit up next to him. ''What's wrong? An emergency at the hospital?''

Zayne nods as he stares at the pager, reading the message from Akso Hospital. Today was his day off, and he promised to spend it with you. He takes a deep breath and sighs, sliding the pager into his pocket while he shifts his worried gaze to you. He hates himself for asking you this. ''MC, do you mind if we reschedule our movie date?''

You swallow as your heart drops at his words. You saw that coming.

More people are falling ill since the days grow shorter and the nights become colder. Even doctors and nurses aren't spared, which leads to a shortage at the hospital. Zayne had already told you that he was on call, but you had hoped he wouldn't be needed.

''No, it's fine. I think I'm too tired for a movie marathon anyway.'' You reply with a forced smile, even though you feel like crying. You haven't had time for each other in weeks, but you know how important his patients are to him. Putting your needs aside is something you're used to, and you don't want to be a burden by asking him to stay. Instead, you nod heavily as you stand up from the couch, pretending to be alright. ''Let's go, Zayne.''

The young doctor watches you intently for a moment before responding, his eyes following your movements as you walk over to the coat rack to grab your jacket. He knows you too well and can clearly see the disappointment behind your feigned bright expression.

He wishes he could silence the pager and dismiss it, but the oath he's sworn holds him to his duty. So he clears his throat and keeps a straight face, even though it’s breaking him inside to walk away from you.

''Alright. I’ll drop you off on the way.''

Zayne's attentive eyes are focused on your profile while the motor of his vehicle purrs softly. It's been the only sound since you left his apartment and your silence couldn't be louder to him.

When the signal turns green again, he reluctantly takes his gaze back to the road, his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel as he tries to figure out how to get to you.

Beep-Beeeep.

The sigh that escapes your lips as his Pager goes off for the second time today is not missed by him.

''I apologize that we have to postpone our date. I didn't expect it to end like this.'' You hear Zayne's calm voice as he tries to reach you, hoping for a response. You shift in the passenger seat, staring out the window, not really focusing on anything. Another faint smile appears on your face as you turn to him, wondering whether you should tell him the truth: That you feel rejected and disappointed. That you miss him and want to be with him.

But there is this numbing feeling that you might come off as too needy, as someone who clings and is just too much to handle. ''It's okay; don't worry too much about it, Doctor Zayne. We can always meet again on your next free day.'' You say as you stop in front of your apartment building.

Without waiting for his response, you get out of Zayne's car and close the door a bit harder than you intended. You know it's not his fault and that he didn't intentionally let you down. Yet a crippling feeling of neglect washes over you as you retreat from his sight. Completely unaware of his longing gaze upon you as the engine starts again.

Later that day, you have already resigned yourself to spending the evening alone when you suddenly hear your phone vibrate on your desk. Your heart skips a beat as you see Zayne's name on the display:

''I'm taking the day off tomorrow to compensate for today and bought two tickets for a movie tonight. Would you like to accompany me? I'm waiting downstairs.''

You rush out of your apartment as fast as you can, still in disbelief that he is actually here. Zayne is leaning against his car, and a smile spreads across his handsome face as he sees you running towards him, jumping straight into the arms of your beloved. He chuckles softly as you bury your face in his chest before looking up at him.

''Zayne, about earlier... I'm so sorry for how I acted I-'' Your words are interrupted as gentle, green eyes stare back at you while he slowly shakes his head. ''No. You don't have to act strong all the time.''

You feel his arms loosen around you, and just as you start to panic, his warm hands gently wrap around your trembling fingers. ''It's alright to feel disappointed when things don't go your way. All you have to do is tell me how you feel and promise to be honest. I will accept you, no matter which side you show.''

Thank you for reading! Cherry 🍒 Updated Nov. 20th: Added links to the other parts + fixed formatting.

[captainamericasmotercycle]

Hellooo! I love love love your writing, you're so incredibly talented!! I just got my period and I'm in so much pain (sorry if it's tmi), but all I have on my mind is Cregan Stark (i'm obsessed) -- so I just got this idea: what if the reader is supposed to do some of her duties in Winterfell, but she just got her period? And besides the pain she's feeling, she's also disappointed she isn't pregnant yet. She doesn't want to tell Cregan how much pain she's in, knowing he's so strong and thinking he would judge her and lose respect for her, so she tries to go on with her duties, but he notices something is wrong. After he talks to her about it, and figures out what's wrong, what if he cancels all the plans of the day just to lay with her and comfort her? And she's shocked he would do something like that for her.

I'm sorry if this made you uncomfortable, and if you don't want to write it, I understand! Thank you so much!!

love love love this... as a girl with painful periods, i just need to be held. i hope i delivered well! wc: 1.2k

warnings: crying, mentions of childbearing, mentions of throwing up and bleeding, cregan is a big softie and loves his wife, cregan stark fucks (implied)

You woke up feeling the cold, empty space next to you. You blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the light. Feeling a sharp pain in your stomach, your hand shot up to it. You swung yourself out of bed quickly, running to the nearest bucket.

Your handmaiden entered just in time to see you throw up. Rushing to your side, she helped you clean up. As she helped to change your clothes, you noticed a red splotch in your small clothes.

A tear ran down your face. You had started bleeding, which meant you weren’t pregnant. For nearly a moon now, you and Cregan tried your hardest to have children, but you can see your efforts had been wasted.

“Are you alright, my lady?”

You were collapsed on the floor, you turned your head to your handmaiden, tears in your eyes, “Tell me, speak freely please… what do you think Cregan will say when he finds out I cannot make an heir for him?”

Your handmaiden was only slightly older than you, but you could tell she was full of knowledge. She was a full northerner, seeing many winters and understanding the life there. She helped to guide you through the customs of the North and had taken up a maternal role in your life.

She came down to your level, sitting down next to you, placing a hand on your back, “You are still young, Lady Stark. You have much time still. Pregnancy does not always come easy. I do not think Lord Stark will see you any differently, he married you for love, not childbearing. He will not see you as any less because you did not become with child very quickly.”

“But what if he decides that there is another lady, a northern lady, more equipped to carry his children? What if he wishes to bed another?”

“Lord Stark is the most loyal man out there. He would not break your oath of marriage because you are not pregnant yet,” she wiped your tears from your face, “You are too in your own head, my lady.”

You nodded, smiling softly, “I suppose you are right, but please do not tell him about my bleeding. I do not want him to know.”

“I think it would be best to tell him—”

“No,” you stood, wiping the dust off your gown, “And that is a command.”

Your lady stood, nodding at your request, “Whatever pleases you, Lady Stark.”

Taking a breath you walked to the doors, “I will continue with my duties today, and you will not speak of what happened this morn.”

“Of course, Lady Stark.”

Every moon you bled, there was lots of pain to follow, mostly in your stomach and sometimes in your lower back. Recently, the pain has gotten worse, almost debilitatingly so. It was not smart of you to take on more than you needed to.

You made your way around Winterfell, trying to fulfil your duties to the best of your abilities. In the kitchens, you oversaw the food preparation. During this, it was the first time the employees of your castle noticed the change in your behavior.

You walked around the kitchen when a sudden sharp pain hit your stomach. You grabbed onto the counter with one hand, and grabbed at your stomach with the other. Your face contorted in pain and a quiet hiss came out of your mouth.

Many rushed to your side, “My lady, are you alright?”

You pushed each one away, feeling the pain subside. Sucking in a sharp breath, you stood straight again, “I am fine.”

Leaving the kitchens quickly you decided to oversee the training yards, hoping not to run into your husband quite yet. You made your way to the ground level, watching a couple small children practice fighting with wooden swords.

You watched them, the slightest hint of pain ghosted along your features. You didn’t notice your husband watching your figure from behind you. He startled you, coming up to hug your waist, inadvertently causing pain to your stomach.

Wincing slightly, he buried his face into the crook of your neck, kissing you gently. You tried your hardest to hide your pain, but Cregan always knows when there is something wrong, to your dismay.

“Is there something amiss, wife?”

You removed his hands from you, turning to face him, and kissing him gently.

“Why would there be? I am here with you.”

He looked at you skeptically, but returned your kiss.

You could not let him find out about your pain, he is the strongest man you know. You feared he might think less of you if he knew of your menial pain, you are sure he has endured much worse beyond the wall or during the wintertimes.

Your husband holds great respect for the strongest of his men, so if he found out about your inability to go on with your daily chores during the time of your bleeding, he might not think you worthy of his love or respect.

“I must go, I have things to tend to around the castle.”

“You cannot take a moment away from your duties to spend with your husband?”

“Cregan, really, I should go.”

He has never seen you so hasty to leave his side. He watched as you nearly ran from him. Instead of staying put he followed behind you, ending the chase at your shared bed chambers.

He entered, nodding at the guards posted outside.

“Why do you run from me?”

You turned, wiping the tears that fell from your face, “Cregan? What are you doing here? I’m sure you have many more important matters—”

“I do not. Tell me what is the matter, my girl.”

“There is nothing,” you stepped away from him and towards your bed, holding your stomach in pain.

He noticed your actions and came to sit on the bed, “Have you started bleeding today?”

You looked away from him, embarrassed. He took you hand, “Do not shy away from me, there is nothing to be embarassed of.”

You turned to meet his eyes, “But it means I am not with child! I cannot bear an heir and I am weak with my pains. I am not deserving to even be near you.”

He looked at you with a largly concered expression, his brows were furrowed so hard they almost touched. He pulled you onto his lap, “Not deserving? If anything, it is I who is not deserving of you. I have seen many men in my times and yet none of them are as strong as you. You are bleeding from the inside and you still are trying to force yourself to do dull tasks.”

He wipes your tears, “Do not fret about carrying our child, we have only been trying for a bit of time now.”

“But I do not want to disappoint you.”

“Nothing could ever make me disappointed in you, my girl. I promise.”

You sniffled, leaning into him, “You should get back to the training yard, I’m sure your men need you more than I.”

“No. We are going to stay here today, I will tell the guards at the door to inform the rest of the castle.”

“Cregan! You cannot!”

“I can do whatever I wish, I am the Warden of the North and the Lord of Winterfell,” he smiled at you lovingly, kissing the tip of your nose.

After discarding his duties for the day, he came and layed with you in bed, snuggling up close. After your week of hells was over, it was safe to say that you did not have to worry about bleeding again for the next nine moons.

————

taglist: @wolvestitches

[girlwiththoughts13]

No place for a Dragon

Aemond Targaryen x F!reader

Warnings: Targ-cest/ smut!

Word count: 1k

~~~~~

The cold winds and bitter snow that dust over your skin feels far more harsh against the heat your body naturally emits. The frigid temperatures of Winterfell is no place for a dragon. The thought of remaining here until the ends of your days is more frightening than the prospect of marriage. For the lord stark is a kind and honorable man, that rarity alone makes your dreadful thoughts gently fade.

Despite this union being an arranged one-all to strengthen the north as a ally for your mother Rhaenrya- Cregan Stark had done his best the last 2 sennights of your residence in the foreboding halls to quail your concerns of a loveless marriage. He vowed to aways be faithful, and in time, come to love you as deeply as a man loves a woman.

There was no doubt you would preform your duties and give the wolf of the north your companionship, your body, and your name, but your heart was not as compliant.

It's not that you didn't find him attractive or kind or all the things a lady would hope for in a future husband; however your heart simply did not beat, at his more than adequate attributes.

How you wished to rip put your own heart, tear it asunder and remold it to fit the lord stark. He may speak true, as the years come love will grow.

In the main Hall of the keep you clutch onto the furs wrapped around your shoulders and await to meet the kinslayer himself. It has been long since you set your eyes upon your uncle. It seems he is still as brazen as ever, showing up to a house that went against Aegon's claim and alone at that. You wondered what was crossing through his mind. Did he think to take on the soldiers on his own? Even vhagar would not be able to defeat thousands of angry northern men.

Regardless of the trap you suspected, if able, capturing the second son of the whore Queen would be a feat for your side.

Lord stark stood beside you, jaw set and hand tightened around his sword. You could feel his eyes move to the side of your face, no doubt blaming you for the arrival of the man with the largest dragon in the known world.

Continuing to stare straight you decide to break the thick silence. "Will you turn me in to save your house?" The worry has set in your thoughts since the circling of the monstrous beast was spotted. Aemond surely is not here to discuss the notion of peace.

"Do you think so low of me?" You finally meet his gaze and find nothing short of offense, Starks were no oath breakers, to be accused by his betrothed of all people, made him believe he was not doing enough for you or the war efforts.

Before you could answer, the large wooden doors creaked open snapping your stare to the approaching men.

Four men surrounded the dragon prince as they walked, ensuring he did not try to assassinate there liege lord or their princess.

When the men came to a halt your betrothed stepped forward shielding you from view.

"I'd say I admire your boldness but I believe it's just stupidity that has lead you to my lands" Cregan spoke with clear distain and although his back was to you, you know his face is just as thunderous.

"I had to see for myself if the rumors were true, my dear niece being sold off. Tell me Lord Stark has she spread her legs for you yet? If she's anything like her mother then I suppose that answers that." Aemond speaks with a cruel tone and a smirk that never falters splayed across his face. The allegations against you and your mother, wretches a small gasp from your lips.

"How dare you, come here, dishonor Lord Stark and spew vile insults toward my mother the Queen and her daughter? I could have your head for that, send it to your bitch of a mother" The sudden sound of your voice and the threat against his mother struck a nerve if the hard-set in his eye was anything to go by.

"Nyke gōntan daor māzigon kesīr naejot vīlībagon nyke jorrāelagon naejot ȳdragon lēda ao mērī" I did not come here to fight I need to speak with you, alone. His switch to your mother tongue was a obvious slight to Cregan, but you had not time to dwell on that, not when he was asking the impossible of you.

You did not give him the satisfaction of answering him in your native language. "Do you think I'd go anywhere with you alone? So that you may slit my throat or worse take me to the red keep as a hostage of the usurpers?"

"Give me one reason not to string you up? Or send you to the Dragon Queen?" Cregan obviously had picked up on Aemond's intentions and had begun to reach his limits of his presence.

The sinister smile returned on Aemond's face, making your blood run cold, knowing his hand was about to be revealed. "You're right. You could kill me right now or keep me as a prisoner, but not before Vhager burns this entire castle to the ground. I am prepared to meet my maker, are you Lord Stark?"

The Lord of Winterfell goes to rebuttal such a threat but Aemond continues. "Or, niece, we could have civil conversation, after which I promise to return you to your pup."

You step around Cregan, prompting him to reach his hand out to stop you from advancing. He gives you a pointed look, one you return.

You place your hand atop his to soothe his worries. You lean up to his ear and he angles his face down to meet yours. "I'll be okay, your house shouldn't suffer over a mere denial of conversation" The whisper of your voice reaches him and only him. You pull away to show your resolve leaning up once more to press a firm kiss on his cheek. Squeezing his arm as you pass.

Reaching Aemond he holds out his own arm to you, one you ignore. He lets out a chuckle and gives his head a light shake.

As you walk Aemond tells you of a cottage he happened upon, a near by place he had left Vhagar awaiting his return. Although you hate the idea of leaving the safety of Winterfell grounds, Aemond will not budge to a private audience in your quarters, therefore you walk silently beside him.

You stop walking when you both reach the door of the quaint cottage. Vhagar a little off to the side puffing out hot air, that reaches you from where you stand. He looks back at you with amusement. "Scared niece?"

Donning a smirk of your own you proceed onward aware of the mistake you were making and finding you did not care at all.

"Ohh.. Fuck!" The moans run out of your open mouth as your slammed up and down on Aemond's cock in rapid motions. The echo of your skins clapping together Is heard throughout the small space and should any one happen to find themselves taking a stroll near the grounds would surely hear the raptures of your pure pleasure.

Aemond latches onto your bouncing tit, suckling at your nipple and bringing a hand to knead the other. His free hand that rested upon your lower back, reaches up to take a strong hold on the back of your head, yanking the sliver tresses back from where you hidden your head in the crook of his neck.

He moves his feet to root them to the ground, to meet your thrust, your rhythm restrained by the small chair you ride him on.

"Does your pup still believe you a maiden?" His thrust growing harsher at the mention of your intended. "Does he know I've ruined you? Gotten deep inside this tight cunt and imprinted my name on the mouth of your womb?" It is a wonder he speaks as if not strained from supporting your weight atop him and the excursion of fucking up into you.

There is no desire within you to answer. You wish to forget of the realities of the outside world and be here and now. Feeling his warm skin on yours creating fire that stokes you completely alight. This will be the last time you lay together the war of fire and blood rearing its rotten head. You realize that was the reason for this. Showing up and demanding an audience with you. Risking his life for one more night with his princess, his niece, his love.

You place one small palm on his mouth to stop more vulgarness from spewing out. "Just shut up and fuck me harder, unless the dragon would like to yield to the wolf?" Aemond lets out a growl and winds his arms around you, standing to his full height with you in his arms. He manages to stay inside you as he walks you to the near by table. When he sets you down he pushes down on your stomach to lay your back flat against it,

The way he was fucking you earlier has nothing on the way he pounded into you now, practically embedding your skin in the oak of the table. Aemond has one hand on your hip and the other comes up to wrap tightly around your throat cutting off your air immediately. Your hand grabs his wrist but you make no attempt to free yourself from his grasp. Despite the circumstances there is no fear in your body, instead you find hot arousal, one that makes your already wet cunt gush more liquid at the base of his cock.

"My, my, look at this, what a sight" You glance up at him, his eye trained directly on the place where his cock disappears within you.

His deft fingers circle up to your clit and that is your undoing, your legs shake from around his waist and your back arches up, head thrown back, a loud moan tearing through you.

Aemond lifts you up to him, from the gap you made when your back raised off the table. Your head falls on his shoulder, limp from being throughly sated. Gone are the precise thrusts, replaced by quick hard shoves inside you, desperate to reach his peak. Once more he tugs your head back and kisses you deeply passionately, It remind you of when you were children, ignored by your elders and seeking love in each other. Kisses hidden beneath the blanket of darkness.

Aemond's stills and groans quietly as his seed fills you to the very end of you and there is a small part of you that hopes it takes root, so that you may have a piece of him always, even when he is gone.

"I love you" You both whisper, low as if you will be strike down by all the gods if heard.

Mayhap's you have already been scorned by their fury.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Thinking about…Knight!141 AU

Knight!Price is an accomplished knight. He is admired for his chivalry and prowess in battle. He is often the winner at jousting tournaments, and his charm makes many women swoon. But Price is a married man—happily that is. He has everything he could ever want, but there are those that seek what is solely Price's. His liege lord, the man Price has given his oath to, lusts after Price's wife. More and more, Price is called up and sent away for longer periods of time. Price knows why it is happening. His liege lord is attempting to steal her away. After a particularly long campaign, Price returns to his allocated lands only to find his wife gone and his lands in disarray. There is only one person who could have done this, and Price won't stop until he reclaims the woman he loves.

Knight!Soap is the second son of a noble lord, but he wishes he were the third. At least with being third, there are little to no expectations. By being second son, he’s the spare in case his older brother should perish, but is expected to live the life of a knight. To swear fealty and lead his father’s (and then brother’s) army in service of the King. Knighthood is chosen for him. It’s not the bloodshed and warfare that bothers him. It’s the purity of chivalry. His older and younger brother drink in excess and happily bed women that aren’t their wives while he has to uphold all the virtues of the Church. The rules and politeness in battle also bothers him. Running someone through isn’t honorable no matter how you paint it. At the moment, Soap has no way out, but he’s actively looking. Adventure is on the horizon, and he plans to seek it.

Knight!Gaz might be knighted but he’s not the most favored. He is pledged to a noble that appears wealthy but has little money. Gaz has had to earn his own living in whatever ways he can while also staying true to his sworn oath. Gaz came from the peasant class. He was not born into the role. It was through ambition that he moved up to a decent place of standing. While he receives respect, at times it feels more like reluctance from his peers. Yet his liege lord's daughter admires him. She is often the first to speak with him and to inquire about his well-being. It was simple and innocent at first. Now, it isn't. Now, she melts under his touch, and secretly pledges herself to him while tangled in the dark. Gaz is breaking his vow just by being with her, but he can't resist what his heart wants.

Knight!Ghost is respected but feared. While he holds to most of the code of chivalry, he doesn't when it comes to battle and bloodshed. In that, he is terrifying, and many fear facing him at all. Because of this, he is often called upon to take up tasks that many find distasteful. Ghost is happy to do them as it only increases his wealth and standing. When his liege lord calls him up for service, it is to help another noble. Their daughter has been taken while on the road. Held hostage by persons unknown. Ghost's task is to track her down, deliver her to her father, and bring the men responsible to justice. But when he finds her, Ghost is enamored with her. He knows he cannot break his vow to his liege lord, but this woman is alluring to him, and she is just as interested in him.

[themotherofhorses]

foolish men dream foolish lives

summary: it is our fate, I think, to crave always what is given to another.

pairing: aemond targaryen x fem!targaryen!reader

warnings: explicit language. some small smut. voyeurism. breeding kink. incest between uncle and niece. allusion to pregnancy towards the end. aemond is a possessive little shit that does not mind breaking hearts and ruining lives.

notes: hi my little loves, please enjoy this little drabble i whipped up in like three hours this morning while i continue to work on the third part for my modern!reader series.

masterlist

Foolish men dream foolish lives, his lord father once said.

Looking back, this knight wished he believed it a little bit more.

He was a son of House Bywater, who left his homelands to take his summoning as a new houseguard for the royal family. By the request of the king, the Hand, Ser Otto Hightower, sent a raven to his family with the offer, and in the later summer months, the knight rode through the bronze gates of King’s Landing, excited and proud.

A moon later, the Kingsguards gave him sacred oaths to swear his life on, and then cloaked him in heavy chainmail and wools of blood-red and black. And from that day onward, he stood guard for the royal family, as they broke fast together in the mornings and slept at night and bustled around the Red Keep.

He found he grew favorable towards the Princess Helaena and her sweet children, as well as the Queen Alicent.

But none of them held a candle to the princess of Dragonstone.

He had not expected your arrival nor heard any news of it; instead, it came as a great surprise when he caught a small glimpse of you as you wandered through the castle hallways with your step-grandmother and aunt, dressed in a gown of the prettiest silks.

The People’s Princess, the court singers had named you. The only daughter born to Princess Rhaenyra and her royal consort, Prince Daemon, back on Dragonstone, you had been sent to King’s Landing for a marriage, he had then been told.

Perhaps his heart wept at that, but he could not remember.

You were like no other, bold and bright and beautiful as only one of dragon’s blood could be. Silver hair, and with the softest lilac eyes, you were of pure Valyrian blood, no doubt, highborn and a dragonrider.

He swore his heart and soul and sword to you and only you, though you had not the smallest clue. You were blind to his eyes, to his little gestures, and the protective nature he blanketed over you. Wherever you went, he was sure to follow, ever your shadow.

He loved you, so much so he thought his life unable to carry on if he could not have you.

But what could he do? Would a princess- like you- ever wed a simpleton of a royal houseguard, like him? Would a dragon of Old Valyria lay with a mere river fish of the crownlands?

And he thought himself very careful and secretive, figuring that no one could possibly know his feelings towards the princess. He bit his tongue and kept his gaze lowered to his feet whenever others took up the room she was in, and only worshipped her from afar.

Maybe if he prayed hard enough, to the Seven gods that seated themselves within the heavens, they would pity this poor knight, this white river fish, and bestow to him this princess as his wife.  

He smiled at that.

Yes, that would be wonderful.

And with that, he forgot his father’s words.

He had not meant to come across them.

The day had fallen to the evening, and he was making his way back to his room, tired and sore and hungry. And as he passed by one of the Keep’s little libraries, he overheard a sound. It was high-pitched and breathless, a woman’s moan.

Prince Aegon with one of his whores? He thought, curiously.

It was not his business, he knew, but he could not stop himself. He peered into the room, ever so slightly, mindful of any noise he made. And with what he saw, his heart broke.

His dear princess, the love of his miserable life, riding the second son of King Viserys II and Queen Alicent, the Prince Aemond One Eye. You bounced on his cock, fast and hard, resembling more a wonton and unashamed whore of the Street of Silk rather than the princess he knew and loved and desired.

Your pretty gown- his favorite of yours- crumpled around your waist, and both your ample breasts were yanked out from inside your bodice, with Aemond palming at them.

“How does it feel, my love? My darling girl, my sweet bride,” he heard Aemond ask, while sliding down a hand to rest on your hipbone. “Does it feel good? Tell me, how do I make you feel?”

You moaned, tossing your head back as your hips rocked, in some desperate attempt to match his thrusts. Your eyes fluttered close, and one of your hands flew to your breast, covering Aemond’s, whimpering a bit as he tweaked your nipple. “Oh! Oh, so good,” you mumbled, pretty face scrunching up in pleasure.

The knight could see the countless bruises and love bites scattered along your neck and breasts, and could not ignore the way your lips were pink and swollen.

“You’re so good for me, my love,” Aemond purred, “-so tight and perfect. Fucking made for my cock.”

The princeling was without his usual eyepatch, and the knight saw the blue sapphire he wore beneath in his empty eye socket. He had not believed it at first, waving it off as the lowborn’s stupid gossip. “My pretty bride, my beautiful wife. All mine,” and he flattened a hand against your shoulder blade, bending you down, so your face fell over his.

“Tell me that you want my seed, niece,” the prince hissed, through low grunts and moans, “beg me, wife. Beg me, and by tomorrow, our son will be in your belly.”  

“Aemond…!” you gasped out, fingers combing through his damp hair as you tugged his face and lips up to yours. “Please, uncle…! I want it- I need it! Oh, don’t make me beg, please, just give it to me,” you cried, pressing your forehead against his, your hips slamming against his own as you quickened your riding, feeling your cunt tightening around his cock.

“I promise…I promise to be a good wife! The best wife! A good mother…to our kids! Please, please!”

The knight could not watch any longer, almost in tears. He had not known that your uncle, Prince Aemond One Eye, was your intended betrothed. His beating heart felt pierced and frayed within his chest, and he wondered if his soul just died, along with every little hope and dream of a future by your side, as your husband and protector and father to your children.

He turned and resumed his way back to his room, trying to ignore the fading echoes of your ongoing little moans and whimpers, for the sake of what was left of his own dignity and sanity.

The next morning, after the royal family broke fast, Prince Aemond Targaryen pulled him aside.

There was a smirk twisted on his lips when he said, “My many thanks to you, my good knight, for keeping guard as my princess and I made our first child last night. When he is born, I shall ask for you to become his sworn protector, along with the rest of my children.”  

[doodle-pops]

Haunted Mischief

Elrond x reader

Warnings: 1.8k

Words: none, all fluff and humour

Synopsis: Elrond takes a moment to share how much of a festive prankster he was in his childhood days.

“Most of my childhood days around this time surrounded helping my mother in the kitchen. I had a particular knack for wanting to eat any remnants of cake batter left in the bowl,” you chuckled as the memory resurfaced. You ran off with the bowl to hide under the dining table where the tablecloth was long enough to shield you from the rest of your siblings who came searching for you. “I had to fight off my brothers and sisters so I could have the entire bowl all to myself. They would normally get back at me though.”

A soft, yet hearty laughter echoed beside you from Elrond as you both took a stroll in the woods nearby, a well-deserved break from all his duties. “Sounds like you had quite a hectic childhood.”

“Indeed I did. Though, I was always the butt of all their pranks, especially during the harvest season. They would scare me with silly ghost stories, or dress as ghosts and made me run off to papa crying,” you grinned. There was a faint hint of annoyance laced in your voice as you recalled all the horrors your siblings gave to you, all because you were the youngest. “It caused me to both love and hate the harvest season.”

“Well, you have a justifiable reason, and I fully support it. I for one had my moments…” Elrond teased before silence fell over you both, leaving nothing but the sounds of the leaves crunching under your feet. You could tell he wanted to say more, yet he wasn’t sure if to continue and open up that memory box. By now you had grown accustomed to the silence that fell after statements, especially ones that involved childhood days. While he had promising moments with his captors, there were others better to be left unsaid.

Saying nothing, you two continued your walk, listening to the rustling of the leaves and observing the kaleidoscope of rustic colours swirling through the air. There were unkept piles of leaves at the base of a few oak trees, while the rest was scattered across the forest floor. The scent of rain was still fresh in your nose from the rainfall an hour ago, now mixing with fermented fruits and rotting leaves. While the scent should repulse you, instead, you welcomed it with heartiness and nostalgia.

“I know that my childhood wasn’t the best, however, I surely had wonderful moments with my brother, like you with your siblings.” He was the first to break the silence. You came to a halt and turned to face him, hands in your pockets and widened eyes, encouraging him to continue. “It is not often one speaks of such times.”

“It’s alright Elrond, you don’t have to if it makes you feel uncomfortable,” you murmured and reached your hand out to touch his arm gingerly.

He gave a slight shake of his head, a small smile—rare—slowly appeared on his lips while his eyes reflected the past. “Not at all, meleth. I have no intentions of reflecting on those, but rather the fond ones. Like yours…”

“Oh!” you quirked up in surprise. “You have enjoyable moments you wish to share with me from your childhood?”

“Many, in fact, but nothing scandalous—just…the mischief of two boys with far too much time on their hands,” he laughed softly, sounding like gentle silver bells chiming in the wind.

You shifted in your spot, back naturally straightening and eager to hear what he had to say. “You and Elros causing ruckus? That is what you are trying to tell me?”

“Indeed,” he smiled and motioned for you two to continue your walk. You both fell into a routine, your footsteps matching each other. “Elros and I, back when we were fostered by Maedhros and Maglor had our…mischief. In some ways, Maedhros and Maglor were like…fathers to us. But in other ways, they were far too serious for their own good. Especially Maedhros, he rarely smiled, you know. Always carrying that weight of his brothers’ deeds, the oath…everything. But Maglor—he was softer. He tried to make things easier for us, and in return, we chose to repay them in kind. Through pranks, of course.”

“Pranks?” you muttered warily, as if needing clarification for what you were hearing. “You two pranked Maedhros and Maglor?”

“More Maedhros than Maglor, he was always the…stiffer of the two,” he chuckled for his expression became conspiratorial as he leaned in closer, sharing his secret with the world. “It was all Elros’s idea from the start though, I was merely forced to tag along. He found an old cloak—dark, frayed at the edges—and convinced me to wear it while he arranged everything else. We waited until evening when the shadows were long and the light was dim, making the castle look even more eerie than usual.”

As he spoke, you felt the world around you shifting to ancient times as though you were transported to witness the event.

“Maglor was in his study, composing something on the harp,” Elrond continued. “And Maedhros…well, he was doing what he often did, pacing and talking to himself in the hall. Elros and I had set up a few…‘traps,’ you could say. Nothing dangerous, of course, just things that would make noise or cause a bit of a fright.”

“Like?” you asked, thoroughly amused by the thought of such a prank in the usually solemn household.

“Simple things,” he explained with a chuckle. “Elros hung a few items—bells, dried leaves—in places where they wouldn’t be expected. And I...well, I was the ‘ghost.’”

You nearly doubled over at the thought. “You, a ghost?”

“Yes,” Elrond said with mock solemnity, “and a very convincing one, or so we thought at the time.”

“And what happened?” you prompted, your smile widening.

Feeling himself building up laughter at the back of his throat, he tried to suppress it for the sake of telling the story. “It went about as well as you’d expect. Maglor barely reacted. He heard the bells and the rustling, but he just sighed and continued with his music, likely assuming it was the wind. Maedhros, however...stopped in the middle of the hall, his brow furrowed, listening intently. I think for a brief moment, he thought something serious was amiss. But then Elros—bless him—couldn’t keep from giggling. Maedhros turned sharply, and there I was, standing in the shadow of a column, draped in that ridiculous old cloak with my arms waving about, attempting to look scary and making terrible eerie noises.”

At that point, you couldn’t help but double over, slapping your thighs at the image of a tall, regal Maedhros staring down at a much tinier Elrond, dressed as a poor excuse of a ghost. His wide, childlike eyes looked up at Maedhros through the slits of the cloak while he continued to wave his short arms about.

“Maedhros just looked at me, deadpan, and said, ‘Elrond. Take off the cloak.’” Elrond chuckled, shaking his head. “I think he was more disappointed in how bad the prank was than anything.”

“And Elros?”

“He,” Elrond said with a fond smile, “tried to run. But of course, Maedhros caught him before he’d even made it to the end of the hall. He gave us both a rather stern lecture about not wasting time on ‘childish games.’ But Maglor…” He trailed off, his eyes softening. “Maglor was different. He found it all rather amusing. Later that evening, when Maedhros had gone to bed, he gave us both a pat on the head and said, ‘Perhaps you need to work on your pranks or try something different.’”

“So did you two ever try again,” you wheezed, wiping a tear from your eye.

He paused for a moment, tilting his head to the side as he contemplated adding the other failed attempts they had. Exhaling with an airy laughter, he nodded. “Umm, yes we did, but this time, we had Maglor assisting and providing the ideas. He was rather…enthusiastic about watching his brother grumble and mutter about how everyone was turning on him, even his own brother.”

“And what did you two do this time?” you mused as you kicked up a pile of leaves at your feet.

“Well, after that failed attempt, we had placed a bunch of dried leaves under the sheet of Maedhros’s bed, so when he laid down…well, you can image the effects of lying on dried leaves hidden in your sheets. Got a scolding, not before Maglor came to our rescue and took the blame, stating that it was his idea,” he laughed. “Maedhros was fond of his brother teaming up with us.”

“But we later redid our ghost prank, and better—or so we still thought,” he grimaced. “We gathered old sheets and tied them to sticks, hanging them in the hallways to sway in the wind, and even attempted to make them float by pulling them with thin strings. But we hadn’t accounted for Maedhros’ sharp eyes—he spotted every string we tried to use. Making eerie noises turned out to sound more like a dying person wheezing. It startles us more than our target.”

“Naughty children you two were. Giving your guardians a spooky time,” you laughed and shook your head in disbelief. It was still humorous that the Elrond standing beside you was capable of being a prankster and naughty.

“Once again, he had found the entire ordeal absurd but come to think of it, he appreciated our efforts to lighten the mood even if he would never admit it,” he whispered reflectively with distant look on his face.

You reached over to hold his hand, entwining your fingers with his cold ones—a trait due to the lingering mortal blood in his veins—and squeezing them. “It’s good to know that they allowed you both to be children at heart despite the harshness of the world.”

“I was indeed pleased to have experienced some good during those years. Made me look at them a bit differently.” Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to your temple, his breath warm against your skin. “Thank you for listening. It felt nice to share fond memories with someone dear to me.”

“It was lovely, indeed,” you grinned, your smile reaching your eyes to leave a twinkle. Continuing your walk while the leaves drifted down around you in a gentle cascade, the world seemed to slow. The world seemed to slow, the only sounds the rustling of the trees and the soft murmur of the river below.

After a time, you perked up causing Elrond’s attention to drift from the water to you. “Why don’t team up to prank a few of your Lords? I know Erestor and Glorfindel would be spooked the most, and I could do with a genius like you assisting me.”

“Now why would you believe I would do such a thing at a time like now?” you teased. “Pranking is no longer my motive.”

“I’ll bake you all the pumpkin and apple pies you want. I promise,” you begged, lifting your other hand with your pinkie finger. “Pinkie promise, Elrond. It’ll be harmless and not a soul would know it was you.”

He pondered. You could see his eyes drifting past you as he contemplated and weighed his options of enjoying your desserts in exchange for harmless, childish, pranks. Then, with a heavy sigh, he shook his head with a faint smile playing on his lips. “Very well, a few harmless pranks on Glorfindel. It is the season after all, and I have a fond idea in mind…”

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[onlycosmere]

“He kept on the proper face all the way to his rooms, and was proud of himself for it. Then he stepped inside and found an empty nothingness. His were the quarters of a highlord, supposedly luxurious and spacious. He had little furniture though, and that left it feeling hollow. Dark, the sole light coming from the balcony. Every honor he’d been given seemed to highlight how vacant his life really was. Titles couldn’t fill a room with life.

Still, he turned and closed the door with a firm push. Only then did he break. He didn’t make it to the chair. He sank down with his back to the wall beside the door. He tried to unbutton his coat, but ended up bending forward with his knuckles pressing his forehead, digging into his skin as he hyperventilated, gasping in deep breaths of air while he trembled and shook.

Exhaustionspren like jets of dust gleefully congregated around him. And agonyspren, like upside-down faces carved from stone, twisted and faded in and out. He couldn’t cry. Nothing came out. He wanted to cry, because at least that would be a release. Instead he huddled, knuckles pressing against the scars in his forehead, wishing he could shrivel away. Like the eyes of a person struck by a Shardblade.

In moments like this—alone and huddled on the floor of a dark room, tormented by agonyspren—Moash’s words found him. The truth of them became undeniable. Out in the garish sunlight, it was easy to pretend that everything was all right. In here, Kaladin could see clearly.

You’re just going to keep hurting.…

His entire life had been a futile effort to stop a storm by yelling at it. The storm didn’t care.

They’re all going to die. There’s nothing you can do about it.

You could never build anything that lasted, so why try? Everything decayed and fell apart. Nothing was permanent. Not even love.

Only one way out …

A knock came at his door. Kaladin ignored the sound until it became insistent. Storms. They were going to barge in, weren’t they? Suddenly panicked that anyone should find him like this, Kaladin stood up and straightened his coat. He took a deep breath, and the agonyspren faded.

Adolin pushed his way in, a treasonous Syl on his shoulder. That was where she had gone? To fetch Adolin storming Kholin?

The young man wore a uniform of Kholin blue, but not a regulation one. He’d taken to having embellishments added, regardless of what his father thought. While it was sturdy—a little stiff, starched to maintain neat lines—its sleeves were embroidered to match his boots. The cut left the coat longer than most—a bit like Kaladin’s own captain’s coat, but more trendy.

Somehow Adolin wore the uniform, when the uniform had always worn Kaladin. To Kaladin, the uniform was a tool. To Adolin it was a part of an ensemble. How did he get his hair—blond, peppered black—so perfectly messy? It was both casual and deliberate at the same time.

He was smiling, of course. Storming man.

“You are here!” Adolin said. “Rock said he thought you were heading for your room.”

“Because I wanted to be alone,” Kaladin said.

“You spend too many evenings alone, bridgeboy,” Adolin said, glancing at the nearby exhaustionspren, then grabbing Kaladin by the arm—something few other people would have dared.

“I like being by myself,” Kaladin said.

“Great. Sounds awful. Today, you’re coming with me. No more excuses. I let you blow me away last week and the week before.”

“Maybe,” Kaladin snapped, “I just don’t want to be around you, Adolin.”

The highprince hesitated, then leaned forward, narrowing his eyes and putting his face up close to Kaladin’s. Syl still sat on Adolin’s shoulder, her arms folded—without even the decency to look ashamed when Kaladin glared at her.

“Tell me honestly,” Adolin said. “With an oath, Kaladin. Tell me that you should be left alone tonight. Swear it to me.”

Adolin held his gaze. Kaladin tried to form the words, and felt of the ten fools when he couldn’t get them out.

He definitely shouldn’t be alone right now.

“Storm you,” Kaladin said.

“Ha,” Adolin said, tugging him by the arm. “Come on, Brightlord Master Highmarshal Stormface. Change your coat to one that doesn’t smell like smoke, then come with me. You don’t have to smile. You don’t have to talk. But if you’re going to be miserable, you might as well do it with friends.”

Kaladin extracted his arm from Adolin’s grip, but didn’t resist further. He grabbed new clothes—tossing aside the ones he’d been fighting in.

He did, however, shoot Syl another glare as she flew over to him. “Adolin?” Kaladin said as he changed. “Your first thought was to get Adolin?”

“I needed someone you couldn’t intimidate,” she replied. “That list at best includes three people. And the queen was likely to transform you into a crystal goblet or something.”

Kaladin sighed and walked out to join Adolin, lest the highprince think he was dallying. Syl eyed Kaladin as she walked in the air alongside him, keeping up with him despite her dainty steps.

“Thank you,” Kaladin said softly, turning his eyes forward.”

- Rhythm of War

[lavendernlilac]

thinking too hard about bodyguard au again so we ramble :3 continuation of this post because these thoughts just won't stop coming

- even though hotguy is griande’s personal bodyguard, the head guy of security for Anything related to griande is skizz. he’s like grian’s overprotective weird uncle. hurt her and you’ll have one hell of an angry skizz coming for you

- when hotguy was first hired, skizz 100% gave him the “I don’t care if you’re some hotshot hero, if you try anything weird with her I’ll end you” talk (because they’ve probably one or two guys they hired for security who got… weird with grian)

- not that skizz worries for long though, hotguy proves that griande’s safety is the only thing that matters to him. and the two of them have been best buds since

- in his civilian life, scar is a model and pretty well known. I think it’d be funny (and really sweet) if grian had a lil crush on him. but they don’t know each other personally. just… admiration from afar

- that being said, scar has a massive crush on griande. he has so much respect for her. he’s got nearly every album she’s released and went to a concert of hers three years ago. so when he was approached as hotguy to be her bodyguard? there was no way he’d say no

- skizz was the one who suggested it btw

- have I mentioned that mumbo is a massive hotguy fanboy? and even after working with hotguy for like a year and a half, he still gets starry eyed and nervous? (also he and iskall are dating)

- grian will sometimes bring mumbo merch and he’s like “I can’t believe you got this!” meanwhile she’s secretly dating the guy who makes the merch

- scar uses hotguy as an outlet to be himself. he’s free to be as silly or dorky as he wants—it’s his escape from the daily life of scar goodtimes, a chance to be more of himself than he ever could

- yet interestingly, hotguy was never meant to exist. see, it started with a car accident. a pretty bad one—to the point scar was at death’s door. he was very close to dying when at the last second, a certain doc monster stepped in to save him. doc genuinely just wanted to save scar’s life. he never meant to create a superhero in his desperate attempt to fulfill his doctor’s oath. but something happened, some kind of mix up. scar was healed within a matter of days, as if the accident had never occurred. and scar was… changed. irreversibly

- (not even doc could figure out what happened, when scar stormed into his office. he couldn’t reverse it, either. he offered to run some tests, to help him figure out what happened. but scar vehemently denied any more tests. no more tests. he can’t go through that again, please don’t make him do it again he can’t he can’t he can’t he—)

- (…all doc could do was offer to help scar control his new abilities)

- so hotguy was accidentally born! and it was a freedom scar never knew he needed. sure, both the powers and the impact on his modeling career are permanent marks of his near death but. in a strange way, he’s thankful for it. for the opportunity it gives him

- (even if he can’t go to hospitals any more. lab coats shorten his breath. he panics at the sight of a needle.)

- (and sure, maybe he ends up put on a whole separate pedestal, objectified in a new way, and no one sees him for who he is but. it’s a freedom.)

- and for grian… ariana griande is a way to be the person she wants herself to be. griande is confident and sassy, not a single hint of doubt to be seen. while grian moon is snarky, and rough around the edges, full of self doubt. griande is a mask for grian to pretend to be who she wishes she was. griande is a form of escape she needs. but she’s also a shield

- before grian first began in the music industry, she was doing open mic nights at different establishments. until one night, she’s approached by a producer who sees a lot of promise in her, and would love to sign her on. cue grian calling mumbo and excitedly telling him she’s found her big break. only, to mumbo, it sounds… suspicious. he tells her to be careful, but grian swears it’ll be fine and he’s just overly cautious

- things with her new producer are great! she’s introduced to a bunch of people, given a tour of her new workplace and she’s eager to get started. and well, she’s a bit disappointed that she’s only allowed to record songs that other people have written, but she’s sure that’s just because she’s new! so grian does as told, encouraged and praised by her producer

- slowly that praise is replaced more and more by little nitpicks but it’s fine. she’s inexperienced. her producer is just trying to help her. (“your tone is way off.” “you’re not holding your air long enough.” “you’re in the wrong key.” “you can hear the other harmonies, can’t you? match them.” “you’re straining.” “you sound bad. re-record it.” “your clothes are hideous.” ���some make up would do you good.” “your hair is too long, cut it.” “I don’t remember your voice being so bad, grian.” “you’re never going to make it big.” “signing you on was a mistake.”)

- ( she’s not good enough. she’s not good enough. she’s not good enough. she’s not good enough. she’s not good enough. )

- she’s caught writing a song of her own. it’s actually pretty good, her producer is impressed. he’ll think about recording it

- grian isn’t allowed to sing it. she’s not even credited for it.

- this goes on for months. she’s overworked, verbally abused, and beaten down. she’s hardly seen mumbo or any of their friends. it’s not until mumbo gets fed up and goes to see her himself for answers that grian finally cracks. she tells mumbo everything, that he was right. she has no chance at her dreams now, she’s not good enough for any of it. and well, mumbo wouldn’t be a very good friend if he let grian continue to believe that

- he gets iskall’s help in getting grian free of that company, and offers to help her get back on her feet, start her own brand. and thus, mumbo and iskall become her mangers

- grian creates griande to protect herself. griande is what the industry wants, who people expect her to be (as for grian… she doesn’t know who grian is anymore). she grows more comfortable as griande and she gains popularity quite quickly. she loves it

- when it comes time for scar to meet grian and not griande… she doesn’t know who to be. she doesn’t know what scar expects from her, or who he wants her to be for him (she just wants to be good enough for him). it makes her anxious. uncertain. but all scar wants is for grian to be herself. to be comfortable and happy and safe

[toto-the-cactus]

Primarchs + Daughters

My perception of how each Primarch would behave when nosediving into parenthood if they had daughters. Enjoy!

I wanna personally thank @moodymisty because a great deal of their works inspired this piece.

Part 1

Lion El’jonson

The embodiment of 'tough love' made man. Having a daughter doesn’t do much to soften this guy… or at least that’s what others believe. The Dark Angels Legion are probably the only ones aware of the small gestures the Primarch often gives to his little girl in the safety that privacy offers. Where Lion lacks words of compassionate and parental love, he appropriately makes up for it with actions. He isn’t one to go over the top and prefers to give modest gifts to his daughter as the last thing the man wants is to raise a spoiled brat. Father-daughter bonding time can be summarized with strenuous training using the sword. This man will not let his precious Princess go through life without learning how to protect herself, even if he has made an oath to forever shield her too.

Fulgrim

The complete antithesis of Lion. Where this man views the Emperor as the perfection anyone should strive to reach, his beautiful daughter comes close to the second place in fulfilling that ideal. There’s a big fat chance that he teared up a little when his little gem called him Papa for the first time, but managed to wear his ever unshakable mask because he absolutely refuses to break character even in private. Has the mistaken notion that his baby is a blank canvas ready to be painted to its fullest potential; aka, molding her to what HE wants and expects of her. Fulgrim probably spoils her rotten but only through conditions that she must follow, as the Primarch understands the importance of fighting and earning for what you wish to obtain. He makes sure that any of his gene-sons are in her company as he refuses to let even a single scratch happen to his little girl. Honestly, a grown-up version of Fulgrim’s child has the chances to go both opposites of the spectrum with no in betweens: A shy aristocratic lady who is unable to speak her own mind or a completely haughty, sharp and manipulative noble woman. Too much to unpack there, yo.

Perturabo

(Slaps this bastard's head loudly) This bad boy can fit so much family trauma in it! Okay no but seriously, there’s a good reason why so many people agree that this bitch has a thing for gilded cages and all the fucked up poetry that comes with it. The good ol’ classic Greek tragedy of Medea. Perturabo may have big and insane expectations for his gene-sons but when it comes to having a daughter? The apple of his eyes. The sunshine of his life. For this Primarch, his little princess is the only living thing in the entire universe that loves him genuinely and unconditionally, making his love the equivalent of a child crushing a bird between his hands. While still easy to anger and with a resting-bitch face, he is incredibly tame and careful with his girl; always making sure that she is well versed in all kinds of science and engineering that could easily label her as a genius (but we all know how stressful can be to try and live up to big expectations). Most of his Legion finds the child either an annoyance or don’t even care enough beyond the factual point of her being the child of their mighty Primarch, beyond that? This poor girl is probably the loneliest child to ever grace the world. Remember that I referred to this like the Tragedy of Medea? Yeah…

Jaghatai Khan

Probably one of the few best papa-tier out there. This man will see his little daughter and think the only thing a good parent should do: To love and guide. He’ll be not afraid to say “I love you” to his baby girl no matter where they are, but he’ll know when to be stern and wise so she grows to be a fine and humble woman. Honestly, this guy would learn how to make a sling just for the single purpose of having his precious princess close while also being excited to teach her how to ride on a horse like he did in his childhood. The thing that makes this dude the best in this list is that if his daughter ever expresses to follow a different path in life like becoming a remembrancer or anything that doesn’t involve the Imperium, this Chad of a man will look deep into her eyes and tell her that he’ll support her no matter what. The only thing he asks is that she stays in contact as he’ll miss her terribly. Kudos to him, fr.

Leman Russ

Another one for the ‘tough love’ guys list, yo! On his defense! Hear me out… in his defense, this guy was literally raised first by Fenrisian wolves before even knowing what a proper bath entailed, so of course he’ll sometimes be a bit too much on his poor little baby girl. Roughhousing was his best first approach to teach her how to fight, trying to make his little pup have some proper backbone worthy of being called the child of a Primarch. Sometimes he’ll get carried away (either with words or actions) and is in those moments when Leman would learn what genuine and heavy guilt feels like; a very alien emotion for someone as brutal and fierce as he is. There’s no worse feeling than knowing that you are the reason behind your daughter’s tears. No one would ever say it out loud, but the way this giant of a man apologizes is by slowly and silently hugging his little girl while pouting until she hugs him back. He may suck at expressing verbally his love towards his baby, but actions are his best way to communicate and this is something his daughter eventually learns and accepts from him. Forgot to add that the entire Space Wolves Legion are not only suffocatingly protective of their Primarch’s child, but everyone takes turns when she asks them for piggy-rides or let her braid their hair.

Rogal Dorn

I don’t wanna be too mean to this poor man but lord have some mercy, trying to squeeze any emotion that doesn’t range to watching paint dry from this damn guy is already a miracle on its own. He’s probably the kind of dude that’ll leave his poor daughter in the care of his astartes and serfs while he works. Workaholic in bold, yo. It literally will take watching his poor little princess cry her eyes out for him to attempt some bonding time but man he just sucks at trying not to have a stick up his ass (Again, I’m not trying to be mean but god this is painful). This is the kind of man, besides Guilliman, that will search high and low for some paternity books to help him. At the end this father-daughter relationship can be salvageable by having a heart to heart between them both and even then, is the poor girl the one that gives more than she receives. Honestly, any daughter from Dorn has the patience of a saint. Besides this Primarch's ineptitude to properly communicate his feelings, everything else doesn’t change the fact that he loves his little princess and will do anything to make her as happy as possible so he gets some brownie points for the try.

I'll later write the second and third part of this, I swear <333

[authorred]

Doctor's Orders | Part 1 | Li Shen/Zayne x fem!Reader | Love and Deepspace |

Preface: As someone who chronically ignores her cardiologist's orders, what happens when that backfires on you worse than normal? Recovering from a life-threatening run-in with a wanderer, it's up to your doctor to put you back together.

This is entirely self-indulgent bc I love this man and this game is so pretty for no reason????? Download that shit (not sponsored, they're just my husbands fr)

Part 2

Warning(s): Mentions of bodily injuries, blood, near-death experience, SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 5!

You didn’t mean to stumble into another fight—it literally came to you. The aether core in your heart has begun to act up, resulting in you short of breath and lightheaded upon any sort of physical exertion. Your heart rate would increase dramatically in compensation which in turn made your evol act up—it was a shit show. Because of that Doctor Zayne firmly instructed you to rest until the core in your heart settled so tests could be run to determine the stability.

You wish you could’ve followed his orders—and you were, very well—but a wyrmlord’s protofield suddenly appeared around your apartment, trapping everyone and you inside of it. Xavier was gone, and you were the only Hunter stronger enough to fight it; you did everything in your power to ensure no one would get hurt. The Wanderer was strong, and you knew if you went full out your evol could get out of control—not to mention the core in your heart would act up, and you'd go into cardiac arrest.

You look around yourself to the frightened people huddling together as a feeble way to protect themselves from the monstrous metaflux monster. If you weren’t here they’d all be dead within seconds. You made an oath, and you will honor it until all life leaves your body.

Drawing your sword, you slide your hand down the smooth, sharp blade. Tendrils of black coil out and wrap and wind in the air. I’m sorry, Zayne. Please don’t kill me for this. The wyrmlord flies at you and you encase yourself in a layer of darkness, of which it absorbs the impact. You spin the sword between your arms for momentum before stabbing it through the shield, and the darkness follows. It pierces into the wanderer, leaving it to cry out in pain. It's not a difficult fight—this is rather easy for you—well, it would be if your heart wasn't an issue. You're not fighting at 100% capacity. Right now, you're at 67%.

The wyrmlord lets out a shriek before sending spikes of stone and ice to come up from under you. You're forced to move, dashing to the side quickly. One of the spikes nicked you on the outside of your knee, sending it buckling. You trip to your hands and knees but force yourself to keep moving out of the range of the wanderer. With your back essentially turned to it, it takes that opportunity to break from your shadows to lunge at you.

~ There is no such thing as a break at Akso Hospital--not for Zayne, that is. The head of Cardiology, chief cardiac surgeon, and one of the most gifted doctors of his generation has little time to relax, other than what time is granted to him. Though, he seems to enjoy the business of his life. It's not often he complains about his packed schedule and lack of vacation time. He stays professional at all times, never letting his personal feelings mix with his professional ones. He treats all his patients with patience and respect but very rarely is he emotionally involved. The last person he felt personally involved in was your grandmother.

However, he wasn't sure if he could keep his personal feelings out of this particular situation. He heard the paging of a patient being wheeled into the ED but he wasn't the one paged. Walking down one of the many corridors connecting to the ED he caught a glimpse of the person being hauled to the OR and he does a double take. His feet stay rooted to the floor but his eyes stare at the parade of nurses and techs following the gurney. Is that. . .

There is no way for him to confirm it yet--he wasn't the one called for the case. Not able to stick in one place for a long time he forces himself to look away and finish walking to his destination, body feeling light and dizzy. Something inside of him told him to call you—something wasn't right, and he needed to be sure one way or another. When he got to a relatively quiet area, he took out his phone and navigated to your contact under his favorites. The line rang for an agonizingly long time until it finally went to voice mail, of which your voice delicately greeted him with a, 'Sup bitch, I'm either busy or dead. Say what you want now or say it to my gravestone, it depends'. Zayne slowly lowered the phone from his ear—you're supposed to be resting, there's no reason as to why you shouldn't be answering your phone. You always answer him when he calls or texts.

The pit in his stomach sinks deeper into his gut and doubt gnaws at him. Could the person that was just wheeled in for emergency surgery really be you? He'll have to wait until the OR is finished or wait until he's paged. He wishes to the gods it's not you, and if it is, he wishes you'll pull through whatever is wrong.

[thereticx]

ᎠᏆᏙϴᎡᏟᎬ́Ꭼ III.

♰Summary: A cheater and a homewrecker. Will they be able to get out without any harm to their love and dignity?

♰Warnings: toxicity, slight manipulation, a lot of flashbacks, nsfw content etc.

♰Author's Note: This series has finally come to an end. I apologize for taking so long to write it but it's finally here. Enjoy your read :) (toji next?)

Geto Suguru was not by all means a decent man. He swore oaths of love and loyalty which he ended up breaking, making his wife suffer — her fears all coming true.

“I'm sorry” But was he really?

She bit the inside of her cheek, a bitter sentence settling on the tip of her tongue ‘No you're not’ His wife wanted to say but managed to keep quiet. The thought of her husband with that girl….changed her whole perspective of the man she used to share a bed for years at that point.

“You're a hypocrite , Suguru”

‘I know but I can't help it’

“All this time you reassured me that it was all in my head — all this time you were messing with her behind my back like a coward” The man only nodded his head, agreeing with her every word, thoughts of her swirling in his mind. He wished he was sorry for what he did but in all honesty Geto Suguru has never felt more relieved.

He was no longer imprisoned by a dull and unhappy marriage that lost its spark soon after the wedding. They were both young and foolish, clinging to a silly dream about highschool sweethearts growing old together.

He should've realized that life is not a fairytale and entertaining an extremely pretentious wife takes a toll on not only the body but the mind and soul as well.

He loved her once, he did — but fighting the same battle over and over again for years was something that Geto dreaded — and once you finally entered the picture his morals and everything he ever believed in disintegrated.

“I wanna grow old with you” She giggled, stretching her leg over his hip bone. Her boyfriend looked at her with so much adoration it basically radiated off him. He squeezed the flesh of her thigh and bent down to kiss her swollen reddish lips “Are you sure? You might come to regret it later” Suguru joked, letting his head fall on the soft pillow.

“There's no way I'm letting you run off to someone else” Jane said quickly, the image of her and her boyfriend at the altar flashing before her eyes.

Suguru hummed in agreement, caging Jane's body in his arms and letting the girl rest her head on his chest. The boy looked out the window, his eyes following every speeding car that drove down the darkened road due to the late hour “You better close those pretty eyes and get some sleep. You'd be tired tomorrow” Jane mumbled, cuddling further into her boyfriend’s front “And I don't want to deal with a grumpy Geto Suguru for seven hours straight”.

He simply nodded, darting his attention back to his girlfriend. She was now sleeping, her brows relaxed and her breathing steady. Looking at her, Geto kept hearing her words over and over again ‘I wanna grow old with you’ — is there really such a thing?

Could he really commit to one person for the rest of his life? Wouldn't that be boring? Why not explore every aspect and opportunities that come with being young? Settling down would steal from the endless fun he could have. His friend does it all the time — why can't he?

Is it because he loves her? Perhaps, although love seemed quite a strong word for what he felt for her. Yes, Jane was a nice girl, a smart one that intrigued him from the start but was that enough to make him fall in love?

“I'm not sure about her”

“Who?” His best friend asked, stretching his long legs over the desk.

“My girlfriend” Geto responded, his fingers tracing the design further on the piece of paper “She randomly told me she wants something on the long term —”

Gojo chuckled, readjusting his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. He, by all means, didn't want to laugh — to disrespect his friend but like every outsider he saw Jane in a different light. He could see deeper into her persona more like Geto ever could — his friend was just a qualified observer, describing Jane as ‘obsessive’ and ‘extremely jealous’ (he never told Geto that tho).

“Man…I say you run now or you'll later regret it”

“Why's that? Maybe I like the idea”

“If you would've liked the idea you wouldn't have told me about it” Gojo pointed out, his blue eyes scanning his friend from behind the glasses “You've only been dating for like…what ... .three months?”

Geto bit his lip not remembering the piercing he got just a week ago. The pain was like a wake up call, swearing under his breath “Fuck”

“Look, I say you should explore other possibilities instead of going along with her stupid wish. After all…you don't want to live a life without meaning right?”

Years later, a decade after, Geto realized what he meant with that phrase. They weren't friends anymore, due to certain things happening, but nonetheless Geto still remembered.

‘Living a life without meaning’

He lived that life, he knew that life well enough to get sick of it. His subconscious worked against him, pushing him into your welcoming arms.

‘I wanted out from the start’

“What are you doing?” Geto asked her, sneaking a glance at her phone's screen.

Jane school her head and continued typing word after word “I'm just making sure that bitch would be there to properly apologize for ruining us”

The man grabbed her phone before she could press ‘send’ and put a hand on her shoulder “No. You'd be making her feel miserable” He defended you, seeing Jane visibly tense.

“Why are you defending her? She made me miserable…You made me miserable. I'm merely returning the favour” Jane raised her, pushing his hand back. She couldn't stand being touched by him now.

The woman simply could not understand why her husband was not apologetic to her? He should be kissing her feet asking for forgiveness for what he had done. It was unbelievable. How could he be so oblivious regarding her feelings? She was his wife.

“By what?! Embarrassing her in front of her parents and us?”

“Yes!” Jane yelled, getting up from her seat. She pointed a finger at his chest almost ready to tear him apart “I've warned you about her multiple times. She planned to break us off from the beginning — but no, ‘Jane, you're crazy’ — ‘It’s only in your head’. You've told me that. And I, like a fool, believed your every word. She's guilty and I want to see her suffer for it”

“I cheated on you” He said, seconds after Jane finished her sentence “Get that through your head. I wanted to cheat on you with her. Do you understand?”

His wife opened her mouth, the venom sitting impatiently on the tip of her tongue “And I'll never forgive you for it. Neither would them…her” Jane spit, a subtle smile making an appearance on the corner of her lipsa “Her parents don't know the full story — I'm sure.I'll be the one to tell them”

Geto wanted to say something in return, anything that may soften her and the rage that had built inside. He knew how wrong it was of him to rub the cheating in her face but he couldn't let her trash talk the woman he loved.

“You have no right. If anyone should tell them it's her and me”

Jane scoffed “Then do it”

“I will”

“Unfortunately I won't give you the pleasure to witness that”

Things got out of control. The two of them were in the middle of the night club, making out furiously.

Jane and Geto were obviously drunk out of their minds from the way they moved around and acted like no one could see them grinding against each other.

The music was loud and somehow added to the tension between them. Jane trailed her hand down her boyfriend's chest, tracing shapes on his sweaty skin that was exposed from underneath the dress shirt he wore.

Geto grabbed her hand and moved it further down to his leather belt while his own fingers tangled themselves into her messy strands of hair, pulling her deeper into the kiss.

From across the room, to the bar, their friends made fun of them, taking shot after shot and placing bets on the couple “Should we stop them?!” One of them shouted, trying to make herself understood by the others.

“Why?! They seem to be having fun!”

“Fucking in the middle of the club with people around ?! Go and stop them before they flash someone”

The man finished his drink and squeezed between the bodies until he reached Jane and Geto.

He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder and unintentionally yelled his ear off “Get a fucking room!”

Jane threw him the middle finger before dragging Geto away from the club. Soon, they were nowhere to be seen, leaving their friends alone.

“I saw you eyeing that girl with the butterfly top. Think I wouldn't notice?” Jane retorted, laying back on the bed.

She spread her legs and carefully discharged her underwear in a slow manner to torture her boyfriend.

Geto leaned over her body and pressed his erection to her heat “I have no idea what you're talking about. Your drunk and so am I”

Jane unbuckled his belt and threw it on the floor then she helped him get rid of his pants “I'm not that drunk. I saw you. Eyeing another girl other than your girlfriend…hmmm…not very nice”

Geto chuckled awkwardly, trying to make out whether Jane was joking or not. He had a hard time reading her especially with a clouded mind “I was only looking at you,believe me” She bit her lower lip in a seductive manner and cupped his member, slowly guiding it to her entrance “Then fuck me to prove your point”

The man hesitated for a moment — was she serious about what she said? Or was it just to mess with his head? Either way, Geto slipped inside her, thrusting up into her cunt like his life depended on it.

“You really think that I'm that stupid?! I don't care if she's your project partner. I won't have her here in our house. I'm not in the mood to see her eye fuck you” Jane argued, slamming her book down on the glass table.

It has been like this for a few weeks now. Fight after fight, nasty remarks and ridiculous accusations — for what exactly?

When she heard her name slip out of Geto's mouth she flipped. There was no way she'd stay and watch her boyfriend with another girl even if it was for a ‘project’.

“The fuck you want me to say to her? Don't come over because my girlfriend is fucking jealous over anyone I come in contact with?”

“Oh…so you think it's okay to have her as your partner? Are you okay with me back away in a corner while you have your alone time?” Geto was left speechless. Clenching his fists by his side, unsure of what he could do to calm her down.

“Text her and cancel right now” Jane demanded, crossing her arms in front of her. She sat in front of him like a statue, only her face betrayed the discomfort and rage she felt.

“I can't do that. The deadline it's in two days” He explained, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Jane nodded her head ironically saying “Sure you can't. But you can make me feel like shit”

“Nothing’s going to happen. I swear”

“Right because you're bringing her here. Who knows what you're up to when you're alone?”

‘Maybe I can calm her down and talk her into it’

Geto placed his hands on her hips and kissed her, slipping his tongue between her lips. He was in control of the kiss and everything that came after — the sex — he controlled the pace, the positions he put her in, how many rounds they'd be going for — the only thing he wasn't in control was his own feelings.

The love and passion he once felt for Jane…it all started to dim bit by bit.

“There's really no excuse for what I did” You started the conversation. Hands clasped together, back held straight — you were in control. Yes, you were. There was nothing to worry about.

Geto Suguru sat across from you on the couch, looking desperately at you then at your parents.

‘Why would you say that?’

Your parents nodded along as you spoke, revealing almost every detail about your relationship with the older man, leaving out the parts where you confessed your love for one another “I'm aware that what I did was wrong. I should've never make Mr. Geto betray his wife like that. I'm sorry…” You turned to look at him, bits of sweat gathering at your hairline.

“Surely, Geto would have to talk to his wife first and maybe she'd stop by and have you apologize to her as well. But for the moment, I think you're done here, Y/N” Your father said, rubbing your mother's back like she was the most affected out of all of you “You've caused us a lot of stress, daughter. I thought you were mature enough especially at your age to avoid situations of this sort”

“With all due respect, Y/N is not the one to blame for this chaos” Geto interrupted. He blinked slowly, his eyes darkening for a moment. He felt terrible as soon as he walked in here. How could he not feel this way when the woman he fell for was being humiliated and put to the wall for something that takes two people for “I kissed her first and I lied to her about my wife's and I relationship”

“Keep going” Your father ordered, visibly disturbed about this new information.

The younger man did not look at him but rather at you “I took advantage of Miss Y/N and talked her into an affair with me instead of just admitting that I was simply bored with my wife. I apologize” Geto bit down on his tongue, waiting for someone to say something.

You gulped down nervously, a part of you glad that Geto had your back, the other wanting to murder him for opening his mouth in the first place.

“We've been friends for a long time, Suguru. I do not accept such disrespect from a business partner and a friend. Please leave my family alone – please leave my daughter alone”

“Dad–”

“Y/N don't. This is not your decision to make” Your mother warned, before grabbing your hand “Come help me in the kitchen. Let them talk” She forced you off the couch and tightened her grip on your arm, pulling you away from him.

“Mother, please. Don't let dad do this. They've been partners for ages. What is Suguru gonna do from now on?”

“It's not your business. He's a grown ass man, he's gonna go back to his wife and figure everything out” Your mother pointed out, disappointed in her daughter's behavior.

You couldn't hold back the tears now. They started to drip down your face like rain, ruining your makeup and the shirt you wore “But I don't want him to go back to her. She's not good enough for him”

“And who's good enough then?!”

“...”

She grabbed your face and forced you to look at her “You?! Don't make me laugh Y/N. You're a fucking child next to him or her. This is not some fairytale. You broke up a family. Do you understand?! You ruined a marriage” Your mother yelled in your face, only adding to your disheveled self.

Everything was hurting. Everything. Your heart, your head — you just wanted to get out and never be seen again.

‘But what about him?’

“T-they were not happy, mom. He didn't love her” You tried to explain through the tears and broken voice. But instead of trying to convince her you tried to convince yourself. Jane was horrible for him and you knew it. They had to see it as well.

“And you think he loves you?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowing.

You placed your hands on hers that were still on your cheeks and continued “Y-yes…he does. And I love him too”

“Aren't those important documents?”

“Yes they are. However, you're more important” He said, pushing you back down on the counter.

Geto leaned over you, kissing and licking your exposed chest, pinching your nipples “Suguru…more” You moaned, lifting up your hips to feel his hard dick.

“Anything for my love” He whispered, ripping your skirt so he could get rid of your undergarments easier. The material was completely torn but that didn't seem to annoy you.

You parted your lips, a finger disappearing into your heat. Suguru sat back, his tongue darting out to his piercing while he watched you play with yourself.

He took off his pants and underwear leaving only the unbuttoned shirt on. He grabbed at your hair and forced your hand away from your pussy “Enough. I wanna fuck you”

Suguru slipped in without too much effort from how wet you were and started to move his hips with so much force that your eyes started to roll back “Mhhh f-fuck”

You grabbed at his upper arm, trying to match his aggressive pace. He rested his head in between your shoulder and rocked back and forth, fucking his dick deeper into your aching cunt “Fuck fuck…Y/N…you feel amazing”

He moaned loudly, his breath starting to get more and more rapid.

You whimpered, feeling yourself get close to orgasm “Please…want you deeper” You felt his dick rearrange your insides, the tip kissing your cervix over and over again.

The pleasure was too much for you to handle. Suguru, everything that came with him was simply too much to handle. His taste, his smell was all like a drug and you were its addict.

Your back was starting to hurt from the hard surface but still you could only focus on him. Suguru fucked you so hard that your body barely kept up with his fast movements. You were defenseless against him and his desires to completely break you “Shit… I can't hold back. I'm gonna cum, love” He licked your ear, one on his hands cupping your jaw.

The man locked eyes with your messy appearance, hair all over your face, lips bruised, eyes glossy — Suguru forced his tongue past your lips and kissed you messily, drool and sweat mixing together.

You felt his warm cum fill you up, walls squeezing around his dick, your own orgasm taking over.

The two of you were shaking when Suguru pulled out and took a good look at you. He rubbed your cheek, his eyes telling you whatever his mouth was too proud to admit.

You put your hands around his neck and leaned up, kissing the column of his neck. He rested his head back, giving you more access to his vulnerable body, your lips sucking dark marks lower and lower on his body.

When you finally escaped your mother you ran back into the living room, hoping that Geto would still be there.

However, the room was empty, your father nowhere to be seen as well “Where are they?”

Your mother stopped only a few meters behind you and looked out the window “Y/N, go take a shower and rest. You can interrogate your father in the morning”

Without looking at her you said “Fine”. Her stept grew more distant and when you heard stairs crack under her weight you immediately ran out.

‘I need to see him. Things can't end like this. I don't want them to’

‘the number you have dialed is unavailable’

“Fuck. Pick up” You tried again, holding the phone to your ear for minutes on end until he finally responded.

“Where are you? I wanna see you, please”

You breathed, nervously walking around without a destination in mind.

He waited a few before finally answering “I'll send you the address”

Geto ended the call and texted you the location. He wasn't sure of how your meeting was going to go down. After your mother dragged you away he was forced to endure your father's boring speech about them not being partners anymore.

Yes, he was screwed up. Being your father's partner was a huge deal to him, boosting his career but now, in one blink of an eye he lost almost everything. The only one left was you. If you'd still be willing to be with him.

After twenty minutes he heard a furious knock at the door and he rapidly went to answer.

There you were, out of breath, your face all red probably from running all the way there. He didn't even say anything and just dragged you into the motel room, closing the door behind.

“I don't know what my father told you but I'm not gonna stop being with you”

“Y/N —”

“Just listen to me -–” You insisted, playing with the ends of his long hair “I won't stop just because of them. I don't care about your wife or anyone beside you. I love you, Suguru. Please don't end this” He interlocked your hands together, kissing the top of your head. He rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb while the other hand cupped your face “You still want to be with me?” Suguru asked, giving you a slight smile “Even with that raging bitch and your parents in our lives? They won't let us be together, my love”

You cupped his face, your nose rubbing against his. You could feel his breathing fan against your cheeks “I don't care. You shouldn't either”

“He was right. I destroyed your future”

Your doe eyes seemed to speak for themselves and Suguru exhaled “You're the death of me. You know that?” He joked, kissing your forehead.

“Of course I know. And I also know that you love me too much to let me go” You bit your lip, before sliding your fingers up his tattooed arm.

Suguru hugged your smaller form and whispered into your ear “Letting you go would only make me want you more”

You only smiled, letting your boyfriend show you how much he missed you for the rest of the night.

No one could truly break the two of you up — not even the figure standing behind that damn door.

Fin.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Do you think that Voldemort/Tom Riddle could be redeemed or find redemption “through” anyone else but Harry? Obviously we are going with a very broad & loose canon divergence scenario here, but, assuming we try to follow canon as closely as possible, do you think that anyone else aside Harry might lend any amount of support for redemption? (I’m referring to the last scene of them with that remorse part)

Omph, okay, so, first of all, I don't think redemption is something that could be found "through" anyone. Redemption and remorse are processes Tom should go through. It's not Harry (or anyone) that leads him through it but Tom actively looking in and choosing to examine himself and his actions — something I don't really see him doing.

Like remorse requires a combination of two things:

A sense of guilt over your actions

Regret of said actions due to the aforementioned guilt.

Now, Tom, I think, does have his regrets. I think he regrets going after Harry, he regrets killing Myrtle to a degree as well, but not because of the effects on others, but because of how these events effected himself. He regrets going to kill Harry on Halloween 1981 because it killed him. He regretted killing Myrtle (at one point) because it ruined his chances to stay at Hogwarts during the summer, but he did not regret her death, or creating a Horcrux. So, Tom does experience regret, so that's no problem.

The guilt is a more interesting aspect. Guilt is defined as a feeling of blame, the sense that you are to blame. Now, I think Tom is definitely aware he is to blame for each and every death he caused, I think he just doesn't particularly care about most people. Not enough to feel anything about it. But, I think he does feel guilt for some things. I think him killing his father and grandparents was in a moment of passion and I think he does feel some remorse over it. Over killing them, not over making their deaths into a Horcrux or making the Horcrux.

The reason I keep mentioning the Horcruxes is because in the quote you brought up, Harry mentioned "remorse" as a means of destroying Horcruxes. I mentioned here and here how remorse could destroy a Horcrux: by regretting the creation of said Horcrux you'll break the oath that binds the Horcrux's magic. So, this specific brand of remorse would only happen if Tom decides he wishes to die (either now or eventually) but the moment he accepts his own death, he breaks the Horcruxes.

Now, I think that the final one is something Tom could eventually do. I mentioned here how Tom's behavior indicates he suspects he would wish to die, eventually, or that he at least wants that option open to him. Another person could help point the journey out to him, but it would still be a decision Tom would have to make. Otherwise, it won't really mean anything.

As for who, well, I mean, there is a reason Harry is the person we see asking Tom to try for some remorse. Harry isn't offering to lead Tom in his redemption, but he offers that path to him. He tells him he could try it, that he has another choice, which Tom, as we know, declines. But I think Harry is the only character in canon (definitely around book 7) who could or would offer Tom this alternative.

Ron mentioned in DH it's scary how well Harry understands Tom:

When Harry had finished speaking, Ron shook his head. “You really understand him.” “Bits of him,” said Harry. “Bits . . . I just wish I’d understood Dumbledore as much. But we’ll see. Come on—Ollivander now.”

(DH, 420)

Now, I don't think Harry understands Tom as well as I do, but he definitely understands Tom better than Dumbledore. I think it's striking how Harry feels he knows Voldemort better than he does Dumbledore, but I digress.

the point is, that Harry always showed sympathy towards Tom Riddle. When Dumbledore showed him Tom Riddle's memories, Harry didn't see a psychopath who was born evil, but a child, an orphan, not so dissimilar to himself, who ended up evil. Harry and Tom both remark on how similar their circumstances were:

Because there are strange likenesses between us, Harry Potter. Even you must have noticed. Both half-bloods, orphans, raised by Muggles. Probably the only two Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself. We even look something alike. . . .

(CoS, 292)

On how, if Harry's gone on a slightly different path, they could've been even more similar, with how he was almost in Slytherin.

When we see Harry calling Voldemort Tom in the final book, it's in a different tune than when Dumbledore called Voldemort Tom.

Dumbledore called Voldemort "Tom" as a statement of power. To diminish Tom back to the student he was, to diminish his achievements, to remind Tom he is still the same boy and no lord. That he isn't as special as he thinks he is. When Harry calls Tom by his name, Tom is convinced he is doing the same, but I don't think he is.

I think Harry calls him "Tom" because it's his name. Because he's human like everyone else. For Harry, it's from a place of understanding and sympathy and not a taunt. Not really. The taunt is Harry knowing something Voldemort doesn't, Harry is taunting him over magic and information, not about his name.

Harry is the only character in book 7 that can claim to have a resemblance of understanding of Tom Riddle and who he is. More importantly, Harry is the only character we see who feels sympathy towards Tom Riddle. That's why I said Harry is the only one who would offer Tom another option, a chance at redemption because no one else would. The entire wizarding world in the final book, even Death Eaters, Ron and Hermione see Voldemort as a kind of bogyman, a figure of fear more akin to death than a mortal man. Harry calls him Tom Riddle because he sees him as a human being, something which is necessary to be able to offer sympathy and to tell him he could choose remorse — redemption.

I think Harry, who determines how he feels about people not necessarily according to their actions, but according to how much he cares about them (he doesn't mind when Hermione kidnaps Rita Skeeter but is willing to strangle, maybe kill, Mundungus for stealing from Grimmauld Place) and understands Tom too much to not care about him enough to make him this offer at the final moment. And I think Harry is one of the only people, if not the only person, who would look at Lord Voldemort and what he did, and decide that knowing Tom Riddle is enough to offer him a chance at forgiveness. Like, this decision is insane and shows Harry's insane compassion. Yes, his compassion is somewhat selective, but once he decides he cares about you, even the most minuscule amount (like Stan Shunpike) he'll go very far for you. Up to and including giving Voldemort the option to choose redemption. But this isn't something I think anyone else would've offered.

I mean, the Order lost too much to Voldemort in the first war (and the second one). They see him as a monster more than a man. The same goes for Ron and Hermione and everyone else, really. Even Snape doesn't really know Voldemort enough to consider himself his equal, to see Voldemort as just another human. But Harry does: "Mark him as his equal" and all that.

So, basically, I think it could've only been Harry to make that offer because no one else would. But, unless we drastically change the books, no way would Tom have ever said "Yes, I want to try remorse".

(As an aside, I think it could've been hilarious if Voldemort did say: "yeah, sure" and Harry had to explain to everyone Voldemort is alright now, because he's feeling remorse and Harry decided he can forgive him. I can see how well that's going to go)

[poppitron360]

So… my Married Valgrace AU got me thinking about the implications of wedding vows in the Riordanverse.

Like you know for a fact that there’s an afterlife, so “til death do we part” now gets a whole lot more complicated. Do you swear to keep loving them beyond death? What if only one of you ends up in Elysium? Or what if you both end up in Asphodel and can’t find each other again? What if one of you dies years after and now there’s an uncomfortable age gap? Is this something couples have to consider when writing their vows?

And don’t get me started on wedding vows that are sworn on the River Styx. You’re already making a vow you shouldn’t break. Now you’re making a vow that you can’t break, lest there be dire consequences. But it’s not like you can go to your betrothed when writing the vows like “actually, babe, I wanna say “I do”, but I don’t, like, wanna swear it on the Styx, just in case.”

Promises and broken promises are a definite theme in the Riordanverse. It shows up time and time again- Percy’s promise to Nico to protect his sister, the Gods’ promise to pay child support, Leo’s promise to Calypso, Jason’s mom’s broken promise to come back for him, Apollo’s broken oath to not play music or use archery, and his oath to Jason to remember his humanity. Swearing on the Styx is a BIG deal, promises in general, and I wonder how that reflects in a promise made, not only in front of friends and family, but also in the eyes of the gods. Marriage vows particularly being Hera’s department, Queen of the gods. It is taken SERIOUSLY in demigod culture. Especially since probably not many demigods survive long enough to get married.

Now, in Jason’s case particularly his whole identity has been shaped by a broken promise- his mom saying she’d see him again when she left him at the Wolf House- and also something about my theory that “trust” is Jason’s fatal flaw. Making a vow to Leo would be a big thing for him- a good thing, to show his devotion to the man he loves. But if he makes a promise, he means it.

And Leo, who has always been pushed aside, the Repair Boy, the Seventh Wheel, who’s nothing to no one if he’s not useful, can’t quite comprehend someone doing something that meaningful for him.

Similarly, Jason has always given his life for other people. For Camp Jupiter, the gods, his friends. His needs have always come last. In canon, his last act was to save his friends so that Apollo could continue his quest, his final wish being that temples were made to the gods at the two camps. For Leo to be devoted to him, to want to be with him, to vow to him- that’s the first time someone has ever done something that powerful.

I think in Valgrace’s case, they don’t need to swear on the Styx. In fact, I think it’s more meaningful if they don’t. Showing their dedication to keeping their promise without the incentive of divine punishment if they break it. Knowing how much making that promise means to the other one. Knowing that it goes without saying that they intend to fucking keep their promises. They’d swear to love each other beyond death, though. The consolation of “No, I’m NEVER leaving you. Not even if you explode again. I will go to the ends of the earth to be with you, and nothing is gonna stop me loving you, not even us being on different plains of existence.”

Anyway, there’s a lot to be said about the theme of promises in PJO, and how that applies to marriage. A lot of this can be used for Percabeth as well.

[istoleyoursk1n]

I’m honestly so devastated that there’s no chat option for companions when you break your oath as a Paladin. Could you please do one where the boys react to Tav paladin being devastated because they broke their oath in a lapse of judgement.

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

How would the boys react to a Paladin Tav being devastated for breaking their oath

.

.

: ̗̀➛ ASTARION

“Sweet darling, don’t cry now, I wasn't aware breaking an oath was this serious. Gods, you’d think swearing a bloody oath would at least come with a manual. Curse whoever decided your judgment was false.”

He can’t lie, he would have definitely found it amusing if not plain funny at first as he doesn't quite understand how serious breaking one oath truly is.

Would have congratulated you for it until he realized how devastated you truly were.

He can’t quite comprehend why something as “silly” as an oath meant this much to you but he tries to be as sympathetic as he possibly can.

He can’t understand the weight that comes with a paladin oath but he sure as hell would be pissed off for you.

He’d go on an aggressive tangent on how you should've been given another chance! I mean why didn't they give you a set of rules or make the restrictions of said oath more clear?

Reassures you that you made the right choice anyway and whoever was in charge of managing your oaths should think again.

(He truly does know what he's talking about but he's trying to defend you anyway. Give the man some credit lmao.)

Reminds you that breaking the oath did give you new powers so there's that! Perhaps they're even better than your old powers. You lost but you also gained! And if you wish to continue playing hero as a paladin, he’d strive to be by your side.

Do as you wish, just know that he's there if you ever need a distresser.

: ̗̀➛ WYLL

“Hells… a broken oath is one not to be taken lightly, I can only imagine what must be going through your head at this moment. Oath or not, you are as admirable and strong as ever. Do not allow this one mistake to keep you from standing tall, this shall not define you.”

Can completely understand your devastation. He's encountered many paladins before who take their oath to heart.

Reassures you that you only tried to make the right decision, one mistake shouldn't be the thing that ends all your ambitions and morals as a paladin.

Would be the shoulder you could cry on just in case the utter sadness of it all is enough to overwhelm you to the point where you may need to shed a tear or two.

What happened to you is unfortunate, to say the least, but he’ll be there when you need someone to help you continue on to the right path.

Having a broken oath never made him see you as anything less than the incredible and fearsome individual he had come to know and he’d defend you if anyone were to say otherwise.

He’d love to make another little heartfelt oath in replacement of your old one, an oath that wouldn't have any painful consequences as the one you withheld before.

The new oath wouldn't have to be anything serious, it's more of a way to distract you from your previous devastation and make new pleasant memories from the old.

Together, you’ll both navigate your messy little journey together, blade and heart in hand with an array of future fanatical stories to share as the days pass on.

: ̗̀➛ GALE

“I know how much that oath of yours must have meant to you… I’m sorry that you of all people must live on with such a burden but if it all gets too much, know that I am here to share it with you. You are more than you’re oath, I hope that one day you realize this yourself.”

He was practically as devasted as you when your oath broke. His eyes immediately shot back to you the moment the deed was done, an instant pang to his chest knowing how much this would shatter you.

Even so, he was there to quickly come to pick up the pieces, he would never allow you to break apart like this.

He would be that instant reassurance that whatever it is you’re going through, you wouldn't have to face it alone. The burden shall not be yours alone to carry.

He knows that a paladin oath is something one usually follows and operates by for life so seeing you this lost was utterly heart breaking for him.

He too knew what it was like to feel this lost, unaware of what your true purpose would be, he knew that feeling all too well and he’d do just about anything to help you out of it.

He’d reassure you that you’ll be able to continue on, that your oath wasn't everything that you are, and that you shouldn't feel ashamed of it all.

If anything, this gives you the opportunity to forge your own path without the looming dread of having to stick by a lifelong oath. A path he would be more than happy to tread by your side.

: ̗̀➛ HALSIN

“You’re oath may have broken but I will ensure that your heart remains intact, for life may take from you but I will do everything that I can to give back. For all that you are and will become, I will make it my personal oath to be there for you through the painful dark.”

He’s knowledgeable enough to understand the consequences of breaking a paladin oath, one that he never wished to see given to you.

As much as he wishes there was a way to reverse it or earn such an oath back, he knows and so do you that there's only tomorrow to look forward to.

Never once shames you for the decision you made that led to this, especially deters you from shaming yourself. You don't deserve to treat yourself so lowly after everything you've done.

He’s there to ensure that throughout all the remorse and pain that stirs within you throughout the whole process, he’d be there to give his unyielding support.

He’d take you out to see pretty flowers if you wish for a distraction, perhaps a peaceful stroll out in the woods or a visit to a magnificent waterfall?

He’s aware of the amount of reflecting and lamenting you’d be doing so if you need to find a place to isolate or think without the extra worry of upcoming enemies and missions, he knows just the spot.

There hasn't been a moment since then where he wasn't by your side, motivating and encouraging you to continue being the strong, inspirational, and incredible person that you are.

As broken as you feel you are, he's right there to give you the love that you truly deserve, to fill in the cracks of the loss. He’ll work tirelessly to make you feel whole again.

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•