#Like even in her first appearance in The Sight she's being compared to how Sweet and Nurturing the other queens are

[bonefall]

If Brambleclaw was written like that in PO3 as an example of a "good" father, was kind of light was Squirrelflight shown in as the three's mother?

It shifts over the course of the arc. In the first two books, she's FIRMLY strict and distant. I have mostly negative feelings about it. In The Sight and Dark River, they are trying to "foreshadow" the big reveal by showing Squilf as if she's less of a mom to her kids than the "nurturing" women who birthed their own.

While she has a pretty equal mix of moments where she's being supportive or harsh when you tally them, a LOT of emphasis is put on how she doesn't seem to like being in the nursery, how her job "keeps her away" from her children, and how she's short with them when they're just being kids in public.

Even crashes this one moment where Brambleclaw is just... playing with them before a Gathering. Leafpool is also compared to Squilf often, notably more fretful or concerned for the Three. It's frustrating-- they're trying to contrast her to them.

It's Outcast that starts to really tip the scales, though. She gets about 2 harsher moments with her kids on average in Outcast and Eclipse, outweighed by LOTS of times they're having emotional scenes. The way I LIKE to read this is that Squilf is a better parent to older kids and that it just took her some time to hit that stride.

I feel like that makes a lot of sense for her as a character. She's not a nurturer, she's a negotiator. Physically active and excitable, guiding a teenager through their adolescence just comes more naturally to her.

(though it stays frustrating that they wrote such horseshit like Squilf constantly snapping at... kittens playing, mostly so Brambleclaw can look so special and perfect in comparison.)

The more cynical side of me, though? I think it struck them that The Fire Scene wouldn't be as emotionally impactful if she meant what she said to Ashfur; "Go ahead, kill them, they're not my biokids so I don't care." She has to LOVE them to feel pain at their fury. So as the books progressed they wrote waaaay less "Nasty Squilf Moments" like in Books 1 and 2. We don't even GET one in Long Shadows, until the Fire Scene itself.

And also, I think they realized that having that Fire Scene sentiment NOT be a lie, when she raised them from birth, would be super fucked up. In a bad way. I don't think even the Erins are THAT shortsighted. I'm glad they didn't.

She spends all of Sunrise wracked by guilt though, even before the Gathering Reveal. The climax of the arc is really fixated on how miserable her and Leafpool feel, and that's kinda the point. The story was building to this moment where the family crumbles apart.

[comfortscripts]

A Glimpse Of What I'd Do For You l Coriolanus Snow

Plot - As the First Lady of Panem, it is your duty to protect your husband. Even if it means dirtying your hands. But what is a little blood when the reward is so sweet? Pairing - Young!President!Coriolanus Snow x Wife!Female!Reader Warnings - Heavy plot + light porn. They are both mad, but sweet for each other. Murder/execution with guns, blood, body worship (??), nipple play, toxic language (??), light aspects of oral (fem receiving), softdom!corio. I fully believe he would be a total simp for someone on his wavelength Word Count - 1,288

Check out the rest of my kinktober fics

“Darling, could I trouble you for a moment?”

Words breaking through the tense atmosphere that Coriolanus has cultivated in his private office. Harsh oak furniture, meticulously organised bookcases, swirls of browns and reds with faint hints of a cool gold. The help liked to say the cold of the room matched Mr. Snow’s frozen heart, but even the ruthless President of Panem couldn’t help the way his shoulders relaxed at his wife’s delicate words.

“You are never a trouble,” he spoke with the push of his sturdy throne-like chair against the floor, punctuating his words. “Come in, my snowdrop.”.

The First Lady of Panem was nothing if not obedient. Perhaps that’s why Coriolanus allowed you into his kingdom after six months of marriage.

Wordlessly, you rounded the desk to perch yourself upon his navy-blue-clad leg and perfectly placed a light kiss against his lips. The kind of kiss that tempted him to become entangled in your sweet web regardless of duties. Piercing blues too busy consuming his prize, thinking of all the ways to corrupt his pretty petal. Not even noticing you slide a sleek silver tablet onto the desk.

“I have a gift for you, Corio.”

A glossy black screen stared back at him with a barely visible play button. Those pale digits broke from your waist to start the show before returning to their previous position. He could feel the shift of your body and took close note of how you were biting back a smile.

Suddenly a face that has haunted his dreams appeared: Lucy Gray Baird. Coriolanus could feel the bile rising in his throat at the sight of that traitor. Despite the fact she was strapped to a chair with thick masking tape covering her sickening mouth, he felt uneasy.

“What is this?”

“Freedom. Keep watching, my love.”

The tense grasp on your waist must have been aching, almost as if he was punishing you for showing him this she-devil. But it was soon alleviated as he saw your graceful figure walk into the cell of Lucy Gray. Stark white gown, as pure as snow, standing there inches away from her. Stoic guards either side of your regal stance, part of Coriolanus compared your image to the Queen being flanked by knights on his chessboard staring down a lowly pawn.

“Firstly, I'd like to say thank you, Lucy Gray. If you hadn’t betrayed the only good thing in your life, I wouldn’t have my darling husband. Truly, I appreciate it.”

This wasn’t his snowdrop. Never had he heard your voice that dominant and cold. Part of him preened at the words being spoken, yet he feared what was to come. Who had he married?

“You were very difficult to track down. See, originally, I wanted you gone because I knew he loved you, and I don’t like sharing. But then I found out that you wanted to destroy him. Drive him insane with your silly little tweety songs. And, well, no one can drive him crazy except me.”

Just as his mind caught up with the intentions of your words, a glistening of his father’s legendary pistol came into focus. Pointed between the eyes of the witch who once trapped his heart.

“Goodbye Lucy Gray. No one will remember you, and the Snow family will live forever.”

The bang of the bullet felt like an earthquake, but the image of you, his innocent little petal, with blood seeping into your porcelain dress was enough to silence all thoughts. Screen fading to black as the guards moved to remove the body.

“Did you like my gift?”

It was so small, as if you had made him a cake and were afraid that you’d added too little sugar. This was the wife he knew, and the wife he was growing to love. He always knew you were perfect; that is why he agreed to his marriage, but this was more than he could ask for.

He craved loyalty, obsession, ruthlessness, and compliance. You were everything he would ever need, wrapped in a pink bow. Finally, an equal, someone to love him the way he wished to be loved. Coriolanus would get rid of anyone you wished, and to know he has your devotion makes him feel invincible.

“It may be the best present anyone has ever given me. Let me thank you for it properly.”

Spider-like touches tingled down your spine before feeling the cool air prick your skin as Corio relieved the zip of its job, allowing your dress to pool in your lap. Three abrupt taps on the desk said everything, and within moments, you settled your bare body against the chill of the wood. There was nothing better than feeling his eyes map your body with such hunger. Swirls of lust flush through his eyes as he lightly runs his long digits over the exposed skin.

“Who knew my sweetheart could be so fierce? Those hands weren’t made for killing; they are far too pretty. And who would have expected those callous words to come from such beautiful lips? But you did it for me. Everything you do is for me.”

Standing to attention, he traced the expanse of your collarbone with featherlight touches. Eyes wide watching him in anticipation, every touch made your arousal swell. Never would you rush him; he ruled Panem and your heart. He was your purpose. He was yours. Coriolanus intoxicated you. Faint scents of leather and brandy washed over your senses; the heat of his body against your as he placed calculated kisses against your skin made you dizzy. With so little, he made you feel so much.

A gentle moan fell from your lips as the young president found his mouth on your taunt nipple, carefully flicking the tip with his talented tongue. Oh, how you wish that scandalous mouth was somewhere else right now. His appreciation was felt full force. Those large hands groped at your skin as if he were trying to consume you. Leaving a litter of marks and nips across your chest, as if he were an artist and you, his canvas.

“I would do anything for you, my dear. You gave me freedom from that whore, and all I can think about is how lucky I am to have your love. You are my only obsession. So tell me. Name it, and it is yours.”

A sense of shock washes over you; he has never once asked what you wanted in the bedroom. As with many things in his life, Coriolanus was not open to advice or direction. Images flashed of what you wanted but your tongue tangled as you went to voice it. So caught in the moment, it felt impossible to string a coherent sentence.

“I want- I want you.”

“Be specific, my snowdrop.”

He knew what you wanted. Sinking to the floor as one arm curls around the thickness of your thigh, pulling you closer to his body. That smile told you that he knew, he always knows. Coriolanus wanted to see whether your boldness extended past the video.

“Tell me, Mrs. Snow, how can I please you? You have pleased me so, and I want to show my appreciation, so tell me. Now.”

The feeling of his breath against the wet patch growing on your panties sent a shiver down your spine, feeding the need for his mouth on you. You needed him carnally. Hands wrapped in those icy locks, pale fingers curling inside, and him acting as if he were a man starved.

“I need your mouth- your fingers. Please Corio. Thank me with your mouth. Worship my pussy with those fingers, please, my love.”

Fingers hooking the corners of your underwear, gently discarding the elegant lace. Stormy blues and a haunting smirk told you that he'd be thanking you for hours to come.

“As you wish, my love. I am yours to use, as you are mine.”

A King is only as good as his Queen.

[wishluc]

Can I request a yandre blade and kafka silently in a tug of war for the readers attention (btw the reader is a stellaron hunter being chill like silver wolf)

I adore them Ahhhhh Blade's characterisation is based purely off my impression of him :O

With Kafka seated so close to you, you were surprised that nobody had contacted the authorities yet. The three of you were treated like any other customer in the quaint restaurant, despite your companions having their faces plastered all over Starskiff Haven, and you had yet to be approached by furious soldiers or, if your luck had finally run out, the General himself.

Though you think that if anyone were to attempt to apprehend Kafka, it would make for quite the spectacle. You can already picture the unconcerned expression she'd have, her lips still smiling, her gaze piercing, and her form completely relaxed, and the words she would say to the poor fool—laced with just a hint of mock surprise—before making her way out of the building. At least they'd be alive; if Blade were to get involved...well, you were just glad that his unsettling presence was enough to ward off any justice-driven warrior.

Starwatcher Avenue was gorgeous, without a doubt. In the short time you had been there, you had fallen in love with the bustling streets and the lovely cuisine, though most of your days so far were spent hidden away and waiting for Blade. Despite this, you were really looking forward to leave the Flagship, the anxiety that followed you with being associated with two wanted criminals too much to bear. At least back on your ship, you could easily evade the authorities sent after the Stellaron Hunters.

Kafka, however, was clearly in no rush. She lounged around most of the time, sometimes taking you out for a meal or to go shopping, and appeared to have no worries regarding her status. Even though Blade had regrouped with you, she was still insistent on staying, attempting to placate your troubled heart with sweet, whispered promises and firm assurances. Today's trip was also her way of proving to you that you were in no danger, and you almost believed her.

But you recently realized that living in constant fear of being arrested was nothing compared to the troubles awaiting you. It could be much worse. It could be staying with Blade.

You could...manage, with Kafka. She was unpredictable, at times, but you could rest assured that she'd never put you in harm's way. She never told you what she was planning, forcing you to rely on her cunning words, but you were familiar enough with her by now to know what she expected, and how to appease her. You could play into her desires, smile at her clever quips and lean into her possessive hold, and she would find delight in it all, even though she was aware of your intentions. She liked your little schemes, though it was no use plotting against her—Kafka was always a step ahead, always prepared to pull you back to her side and remind you of just who she was.

Blade, however, was a complete enigma to you.

You weren't very familiar with the other Hunter, having spent most of your time being lugged around by Kafka, but even the little time you spent with him had already convinced you that there was something frightening about him. You think it might be his dark eyes, seemingly seeing through your every action, which, coupled with his habit of staring at you, never failed to unnerve you. Your first encounter with him, too, left you shaking—you'd never forget the sensation of cool metal pressing against your skin, his sharp gaze locked on you with the slightest curl of his lips. You could never tell what he wanted from you.

He had smiled at you when you were tasked with wrapping new bandages around his hand shortly after his escape, and asked if you came all the way to the Xianzhou Luofu just to see him (You remember the sound of his laughter when you turned to look at Kafka in response, and you remember how something inside you stirred at the mesmerising sight). But he had yet to pull you into his arms, or smother you with affectionate words and thinly veiled threats, and you weren't quite sure what to make of him. You could only hope that his interest in you was short lived—it was tiring enough to keep Kafka placated.

"Open up, darling," Kafka's smooth voice breaks you out of your trance.

She holds a silver spoon out, a small piece of the pudding she ordered balancing carefully on it. You quickly obey, letting her feed you despite the shame that lingered when you notice Blade's curious gaze directed at you.

"Why aren't you that well behaved for me?" You freeze at Blade's remark, the dessert in your mouth suddenly tasting like sand.

Kafka chuckles, putting down the spoon in favor for placing her hand on your cheek. She gently directs you to face Blade, the man regarding you with blatant fascination.

"Why, Bladie?" Kafka's gloved fingers trace your bottom lip, "Are you jealous?"

"You're always so stiff around me," he muses, "but here you are, acting as the perfect pet for her."

"That's because we are well acquainted," you catch a wicked glint In Kafka's eyes, "It's not an act," she taps at your cheek, "is it?"

You shake your head silently, and Kafka's smile widens. Blade's displeasure is obvious in the slight frown on his face and the glare focused at where Kafka's touching you, and you start to regret picking sides.

"How cruel."

You lean back into your seat, suddenly feeling suffocated by the tense air that enveloped the table. For a moment, you swear you catch the slightest twitch of Blade's lips, but you're immediately distracted by Kafka's displeased frown.

You clear your throat in an attempt to dissipate the tension, "When will we be returning?"

"We still have matters to conclude here," Blade informs you.

Your heart sinks, but you try your hardest to hide your disappointment, "I thought we were only here for..." You glance at him, "for Blade?"

Kafka's hand had found its way to your thigh while your attention was elsewhere, her fingers splayed over your clothes, "We need to wait for the Express crew, my dear. You can be patient a little while longer, no?"

You nod, and watch as she takes a bite of the pudding for herself, the spoon in her mouth for a moment too long before she placed it down again. You turn to look outside the window instead, not wanting to meet her gaze after that display, and instead catch sight of a familiar tall figure. Around him are multiple guards in uniform, and you can already see passersby begin to whisper amongst themselves while surveying the scene. You're reminded of the posters drawn in red ink, and the fate awaiting you if you get caught. They'd want to interrogate you, wouldn't they? To your side, Kafka stands up, carefully placing her coat over her shoulders before glancing down at you with her hand outstretched. A part of you wishes you could be as composed as her by everything, but her lack of concern came from a place of confidence, in her own ability and Elios' plan. You have neither—all you can trust in is your companions. You take her hand and get up, forcing yourself to hide your growing fear. Kafka strolls out of the exit, and you follow suit, making your way out of the building and back into the streets of Starwatcher Avenue. You don't look back to see where Blade is, assuming he had disappeared into the crowd already.

As the usual protocol in situations like this, you separate from Kafka (She has insisted, before, that you never leave her side regardless of the circumstances, but you know better than to comply), and start to find your own way back to your hideout, but as you make your way down the large staircase, a hand brushes against the small of your back and a figure appears beside you. If he noticed the way you stiffened up at his touch, Blade didn't comment on it, simply falling into step with you, as though he was always there.

"This way," he instructs, moving you towards an inconspicuous alleyway between some stalls. You don't want to follow him, but with the looming threat behind you, you can't afford to attract any more attention to yourself, so you let his hand rest on you and follow his lead.

"Don't be afraid," he whispers, lips brushing against your ear, "nobody uses this path. This way, we'll have plenty of time to get...acquainted"

all works © wishluc. do not copy, steal or repost my works on other platforms. (including translations)

[noroi1000]

Can you do one with Gojo and his really tiny newborn daughter ( I’m feeling a bit nostalgic because my niece)

When Gojo meet his daughter for the first time. He really taken back because how tiny she is. He like y/n sweetie where is the rest of her? In sweet way of course.

Her tiny little hands can’t even rap her his finger

Even the newborn baby clothes that he got for her don’t fit her. They have to roll up the little sleeves on her onesie😭

He show his baby to everyone and said look how cute she is and how small she is. Also keep asking Shoko is he baby a normal size for a newborn baby and she like yes Gojo.

He just loves his little girl so much.

Basically a really fluffy request Noroi and also Noroi if get any idea or scenarios please feel free to the request the more fluff the merrier🥰

Just really want to see Gojo being all cute with baby girl and wife🥰

Little Loved One

Summary: Gojo have very little daughter.

"I'm late! Sorry!" Your husband ran into the room, not caring to be quiet.

You didn't blame him for being late. Nothing happened. You knew he would be here as soon as he found out about it.

He quickly took off the blindfold and came closer, looking at your condition.

It was obvious that you were tired. But the sparkle in your eyes only proved that you were also happy.

"Where is she?" he asked you, looking around.

"You'll see her in a moment." You said with a smile and reached for his hand, then feeling his fingers gently hold you.

He took a chair and sat it next to your bed, running his fingers over your hand and the wedding ring you were wearing.

"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting. Everything's ready." Another woman entered the room with a small bundle in a blanket. She came to your side, placing the baby in your arms.

Her every step was carefully watched by your husband.

"Are you the father?" she asked with a smile, and then suddenly realized the similarity of his appearance and that of a small child. "Congratulations."

She gave you another smile as she left.

And with his help, you sat up on the bed differently and moved closer to him, showing your little sleeping face. The little girl's slightly pink skin seemed so soft just by looking at it.

His eyes scanned his daughter as she lay there.

He reached out a finger to lightly caress her cheek.

He always thought that babies who were just born were ugly. So pink and they don't move. And they just cry. But not even an hour after she was born, his daughter was so sweet. Fine white hair on her head and only slightly pink skin. And suddenly the child's hand reached for his finger. The tiny hands couldn't wrap around his finger.

"She's so small." he said, moving closer.

"Do you want to hold her?" you asked.

"Me?" He pointed at him.

"Who else? You're her daddy."

"This... What if..."

"Satoru." you interrupted his uncertainty. "She's your baby. Nothing will happen."

With a bit of uncertainty, he stretched out his arms, catching the baby.

She seemed even smaller in his hands! It was as if he could hold it in his hands and there would be enough space.

That's why he was afraid that he might tighten his hand too much or do something wrong and hurt her. With his little child, he can't be the strongest. He must be careful and gentle.

He smiled at the sight of her next to him, and when she moved slightly, he laughed.

How could such a little thing cause you so much trouble for so many months? Even though she was smaller compared to him, she was tiny. How could such a little girl keep you up at night? How could such little legs kick you from the inside?

"Have you named her yet?" he asked, grabbing her hand with two fingers, watching as her tiny fingers tightened on his nail.

"I thought maybe you would want to." You reached up to her head, stroking her little white hair.

And after a moment's thought, he spoke up.

"...Aiko?" He looked at you, waiting for your reaction.

"Aiko... Gojo Aiko. Do you like it?" You smiled. "What does that mean?"

"You could say Little Loved One."

He suddenly gained courage and kissed her forehead.

"Welcome to the Gojo family. My little Aiko."

  "I didn't know you'd be happy with my baby, Utahime." He laughed, leaning against the baby stroller, watching the woman's hand gently touch her little hand.

"Your child is not you. I can't believe this little angel could be like you. Her name?"

"Aiko."

"Even if I could deny it, I see that you are the father..." She looked at the white hair and long white eyelashes.

Gojo is so beautiful, so you both knew that your daughter would be beautiful.

Her daddy is a little overprotective. And you can be sure that her teenage years will be strange.

Satoru who chases all the boys away from his little daughter. This will be a sight you won't regret seeing.

It's all ahead of you, but you know that your daughter will attract a lot of eyes. Just like Satoru. But there will be someone to protect her.

Daddy's little girl.

Because now you constantly see him walking around with her, never leaving her for a moment. It was a lovely sight.

"She's so tiny. Was she born earlier than she should have been?"

"Shoko..." Gojo exclaimed, wanting her to explain.

"Everything is fine with her. But she's just a little smaller than she should be. She should make up for it as she grows. She's just smaller, but there's nothing to worry about."

"That's good. But I'm worried about what kind of father she has." She growled, a vein throbbing in her forehead.

"Hey Hey! I am the perfect father!" he said loudly and suddenly reached for his little daughter in the stroller when she woke up because of him. "Look at that little sweet face! She's happy to have a daddy like me!"

Cuddling Aiko against his broad chest he watched as her eyes opened and he looked at her. Her arms reached out to him as she let out a slightly dissatisfied moan.

"Aww, daddy is here." he moved her higher, watching with glee as her arms flailed around awkwardly. "Don't worry. Daddy will take care of you."

Walking into the room, you wrapped your arms around his waist, snuggling lightly into his side.

Your husband simply loves your family so much.

"It's delicious, isn't it?!" he laughed, giving a spoonful of food to Aiko and she started laughing.

Long legs kneeling next to the baby chair as he fed her.

You couldn't be jealous of your child. He gave a lot of attention to your daughter. But did it matter? She is your child. And you love her just the same. It's impossible not to love this baby.

____

"Hmm... I thought the clothes would fit this time." He groaned sadly, watching as the sleeves on your child's arms were too long.

"We'll go buy smaller ones. These will come in handy later." You stroked his arm soothingly, leaning into the kiss he gave you.

"I'm waiting for her to grow. My little one~."

____

"Look at her! She's so cute!!!!" His voice was howling as invisible arrows pierced his heart.

Your daughter just hugged a teddy bear that was almost bigger than her.

Isn't it perfect to see your husband with your daughter?

He who is constantly taking photos.

A man who was afraid to take her in his arms because he was afraid he would break her. Now he could take her everywhere with him. Because he doesn't want to leave your side.

The old worries about your daughter being tiny disappeared as she started to grow. She started to be like a normal child her age. Even though she was still tiny in your husband's hands.

He couldn't help but love his family.

Gojo's family is not so small anymore. Now he has two people he loves more than life itself.

And only one question appeared in his mind as he held his sleeping daughter in his arms.

"Honey, could we have another baby like this in the future?"

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

yes! love me some mortal x immortal??/god type couples, i think they're cute. It's always sad though when they realize one will outlive the other, unless they do some magical stuff to make the human live just as long or if maybe the god person turns into a human.

I think it'd be so cute for nymph reader to accidentally slip up again before her and marcus officially meet, but she's not quick enough to disguise herself or hide again before marcus sees her so he chases after her and then it's like love at first sight ❤️

Hi, sweetie.

Your idea inspired me to write this…. You can take this as a prologue to Nymph. I thought Marcus could be younger (maybe Javier Peña style?). I hope you like it.

Warnings:  fluff, some nudity, not much going on, mythological figures treated in a simple way

A/N: hope you will be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

nymph. [prologue] l General Marcus Acacius

For a moment he thought he was daydreaming. He had to, because his eyes had never seen anything more beautiful. 

All the glory of Rome, with all its provinces, with its cities of marble and gold, were nothing compared to what appeared before his eyes.

A being. A woman. Light and luminous like the rays of the sun, so different from what surrounded her, and at the same time seeming to fit there as if she had been created for this place.

He shouldn't be in this place. Marcus immediately felt as if he had sneaked into a temple where men were forbidden to stay, or as if he had spied on something that was supposed to be a closely guarded secret.

That day his legs carried him to these areas outside the camp. He didn't know why, as if the warm wind was pushing him for fun into the thicket of the forest. And when he stood behind a large and old oak tree, he saw the silver surface of the lake and her in front of him.

Beautiful as early morning, naked, sitting on the shore of the lake with her face turned towards the sun. He should have retreated and forgotten about it, but he couldn't help himself. 

He took a step forward, very quietly so as not to scare the woman away, but when he passed a blackberry bush, a wild bird got scared and flew out of the branches with a screech.

The girl heard this and immediately stood up abruptly. In the full sunlight, he saw her naked figure, standing proudly, although fear flickered in her eyes. She was like one of the statues in the temples.

Marcus raised a reassuring hand, approaching "Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you."

She didn't say anything. She only gave him an angry look and reached for the flowing robe that was lying on the nearby stones. The soft material wrapped around her body, hiding the beauty of her body from his eyes.

"Are you a goddess?" he asked.

You looked at him over your shoulder. "If I were a goddess, you'd be dead or blind for daring to watch me bathe, mortal." you mocked him.

"So maybe you're a mermaid?" He was already close to you.

The light robes glowed with their own light. It was hard for him to believe that you were real.

"A mermaid?" you laughed. "You really don't know much about the world, but you're sweet." you turned to him with a smile on your face. "I'm a nymph, soldier."

He watched you carefully. Brown, gentle eyes looked at you with reverence. Dark hair, strong body and sun-kissed skin. You've seen many men, this one was really handsome.

"My name is Marcus." His voice was pleasant, low and warm. "I'm Marcus Acacius. I command the Roman troops stationed nearby."

You nodded. "You're everywhere. Even here." you gave him your name though, and he repeated it as if he wanted to check how it tasted on his tongue. "You are not the General of these troops. You are too young." 

Marcus frowned dark eyebrows, arrogance flashing from his eyes "I am over thirty years old."

"Still young." you smiled gently and approached him "I am older than the oldest oaks of this forest, than the lake you are looking at." your hand moved over his chest hidden behind his clean, black armor "I knew the heroes of your myths, I served the gods you worship. You are still young, Marcus."

He couldn't take his eyes off you. Every move you made, every grimace, every smile, he wanted to remember it all. His heart was beating hard in his chest, you had to feel it.

"You mortals are truly funny." you continued, your hand sliding to the hilt of the sword at his side. "You confuse sirens with nymphs, you blame gods for your decisions, you call monsters those who weren't."

"Who do you mean?"

Your amused gaze traveled to his handsome face. "Like Medusa."

Marcus rolled his eyes and groaned. "That Gorgon? She was a monster with snakes instead of hair."

"She was a beautiful woman. Neptune possessed her in my lady's temple, which is why Minerva was angry. It was a sacred place." you replied, and although your words were strong, he didn't see the anger in your eyes. You were amused by the naivety of this soldier. "Don't judge a woman for the actions of a man, even if he's a god. She had every right to fly into a rage. Rome does the same, and you serve it. Remember the wrath of Medusa, Marcus."

Your fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. A warm hand rested on yours. Marcus tilted his head slightly.

"If you want to disarm me, you have to give me something in return." he said, a small smile appearing under his dark mustache.

You raised your eyebrows slightly. "Oh, really? What's that?"

"A kiss. One small kiss." His soothing voice penetrated your heart. "Prove to me that you're real."

You considered his words for a moment. Your sisters had often told you about how sweet and handsome mortals tried to charm them just to possess their bodies. Marcus seemed different to you though. You didn't know why, but you liked him.

"That's a big ask." you said, lifting your chin proudly.

"That's also a request from a little boy, as you called me."

You shook your head in disbelief. His impudence was captivating. Finally, you nodded. With your free hand, you reached for his smooth cheek. The skin was warm, you felt his breath on your lips, you could almost hear his heartbeat. 

But it wasn't you who gave Marcus a kiss, it was he who stole it from you, pressing himself into your lips as if he wanted to taste the forbidden fruit at all costs. His hand slid into your hair and pulled you closer so that you wouldn't accidentally slip away from his lips. 

Warm, soft lips caressed yours, and as soon as you parted your mouth, Marcus took the opportunity and slipped his tongue in, deepening the kiss.

Your legs almost buckled under you. You'd never experienced anything like it. Your body gave in to each kiss, wanting more and more. The solid hilt of the sword in your hand provided your only stability. 

Eventually, however, Marcus had to draw his breath. It was at that moment that you drew his sword in one fluid movement and took a few steps back.

"You are too careless for a Roman soldier." You declared, raising his sword towards him.

"You can stab me with it, my sweetest." He replied, his eyes shining in ecstasy. "My life is complete now, I can die."

"You don't know what you're saying."

"My life is a blink of an eye to you. To me, you are equal to the gods."

He noticed your eyes widen, your chest heaving in a sharp breath. The blade trembled, too heavy for your unskilled hand. Marcus caught it and pulled you to him.

When his hand rested on your cheek you let go of his sword, which fell softly onto the grass. His touch was warm, gentle, tender. For a moment you thought that he couldn't be mortal, he had too much power over you.

"How can I live without being able to taste your lips every day?" he asked "Do something about it, or I'll go mad..."

"Your life is a blink of an eye to me..." you whispered feeling his lips brush the corner of your mouth "I'll have to live until the end of the world hungry for your warmth."

You let him experience the taste of your lips again. And Marcus seemed insatiable with you. Strong arms held you tightly, protecting you from sinking to the ground. It lasted maybe minutes, maybe hours. 

Marcus spent the whole afternoon with you, talking and listening, laughing and feasting his eyes on the sight of you. His heart was filled with feelings he couldn't name. 

However, his life called him to fulfill his duties to the Empire. He reluctantly reached for his sword.

"Will you be here tomorrow? I want to see you again."

You looked at him with tenderness. "I will be. And I will wait for you."

"Promise me."

"I promise."

He kissed your hands with reverence, feasted his eyes on your sight one last time, and then disappeared into the darkening forest, leaving you full of feelings unknown to you.

"My dear child..."

A familiar, calm voice floated to you from nearby. You felt a warm breeze and soon Minerva, your lady, stood by your side. Her armor gleamed in the last rays of the setting sun.

"I didn't think mortals could be like this." You said, staring at the place where Marcus had disappeared. "No one warned me about this..."

"A great future awaits him. His destiny must be fulfilled." the goddess spoke gently.

"Marcus will do great things. Many lives are already tied to him..." your voice broke, tears welling up in your eyes "My lady..."

Minerva looked at you softly, her eyes full of infinite wisdom. No one and nothing could hide from her.

"Take this from me." you whispered, with each word your heart shattering into pieces "Take from me what doesn’t belong to me. Take him."

"Do you know what you are asking, child?" Minerva's face was gentle but determined "You don’t know his full destiny. This mortal loves you, his heart is pure. He will come here tomorrow, for you."

"My lady, we are not destined for what we both desire... And I don't want to watch life slip away from his eyes. Please..." tears were already running down your cheeks, but you didn't feel ashamed, it only proved what you felt "Please make him forget about me and take him out of my head too. It was a beautiful day, but I don't want to take away what is destined for him..."

"Are you sure? Will you deprive yourself of this love?"

You nodded. This decision was painful, but you couldn't do otherwise. Marcus was supposed to have a bright future, full of victories and glory. There was no place for you there.

"Let it be so, child." the goddess's hand, hot as the sun's rays, touched your cheek, Minerva leaned down and her lips brushed your forehead "Forget it, it is my will. Let this feeling fly away from you if it is not meant for you. And tomorrow, when he opens his eyes at dawn, he will no longer remember what happened here. May destiny be fulfilled." 

When the first rays of sunlight crept lazily into the camp tent, Marcus rubbed his eyes and stretched on the bed. A strange feeling of emptiness and loss filled his heart. He had the impression that he had lost something precious, something that he would never get back.

nymph. [1/2] l General Marcus Acacius

taglist: @ashleyfilm @gothcsz @littlenicpascal

@missladym1981 @axshadows @psychoenergy @sabsunflowergirl @pedrofan @heckzprince @hard-candy-writing

[chin-chilla-7]

I just got finished with a spy x family episode and this came up! What about DBH boys (Connor, Simon, Markus) With a female reader who is just like Yor Forger!

She’s very sweet looking, and nobody would suspect she packs quite a mean punch when protecting someone or herself, and unusually strong!

Hey anon! So sorry about the wait on this. I'll be honest part of it is due to me not knowing anything about spy x family, so I will just be going off the little description you've given in this ask! And it certainly won't stop me from trying.

Each Connor, Simon, and Markus would initially find the reader quite unassuming. To say they underestimate her is not exactly accurate, but they certainly don't expect the strength and punch she packs.

Connor witnessed it during a case. He's in the process of analyzing some evidence at a crime scene when he hears a disturbance. It was an argument, from what he could tell, between you and someone else trying to tamper with the crime scene or simply initiating some aggression because, like Connor, they misjudge exactly how strong you could be. At the sound of raised voices - yours being one of them - Connor is quick to make his way over to the disturbance, intending to intervene if necessary. Though, it quickly becomes apparent that it isn't necessary.

You've knocked the aggressor clean on their ass. One punch to the face was enough to send them falling backwards right on their ass. You probably even broke their nose. Connor, he's... well, to be honest, he's a little surprised. You aren't often in situations such as this one. And while you do work for the DPD, it's not often he sees you demonstrate exactly why you were hired in the first place.

Even though you punched someone to the point of a concussion, Connor can't help but still make sure you're okay. Physically, mentally, whatever, he wants to make sure the encounter didn't shake you up too bad. Even if you've assured you're fine and that he doesn't need to check you over, he's still doing a scan, just to be sure.

This is something he certainly does not forget about you. And while he still worries, given the fact that your appearance is deceiving compared to your actual ability, he's a little more at ease to know that you can hold your own when you need to. He's aware that people will go for those who seem weaker, and while he knows you aren't weak, at a glance, people are quick to think otherwise about you.

---

Simon, while not a coward, does prefer to take the pacifist route at any given opportunity. You're someone who's the same, unless you have absolutely no choice. And that was the case here. You were with Simon, just the two of you. You had excused yourself to the bathroom, and on your way back, you see that someone had approached Simon, and you noticed that Simon was less than comfortable about the interaction. It wasn't until you were a few steps away that you could hear exactly what was going on.

It was some anti-android guy going off - he must have recognized Simon someone. Which, come on, he's not the only PL600 to exist. Whatever, it didn't matter. What mattered was this guy was going off on Simon, and while Simon was trying to defuse the situation, he wasn't getting anywhere successful. Simon was trying to talk the other down, but the guy seemed pissed, which started to piss you off. It didn't help that the guy suddenly grabbed Simon - that's when you knew you had to step in.

"Hey!" Was all you said, which seemed to startle the guy long enough for you to grab his shoulder, turning him so you could swiftly punch him in the gut. He quickly doubled over, falingl to the ground, and Simon stumbled back, staring at the scene in shock. His mouth was agape as he looked between you and the guy, now groaning on the ground. There was even a slight tint of blue on Simon's face at the sight, which you may have noticed if you weren't still upset with the interaction.

"Whoa... I didn't know you had that in you..." Simon said, nearly stepping towards the guy to help him. But he stopped himself, mainly because you held your hand out to stop him.

"There's a lot you don't know about me," you responded, looking over to him and managing a smile. Despite the circumstances, it was cute to see the way Simon reacted to this.

"What, so we just... leave him?"

"Well, he was a prick, soo..."

---

Markus was often used to being the protector. And with you, it was a no brainer that you were someone he felt drawn to protect. And it was cute, and you never had a problem with it. But sometimes even the protector needs a little helping hand. Especially when you've got no problem fighting your own battles.

Being the leader of the android revolution meant that Markus got a lot of attention. And being a close friend of the leader of the android revolution meant you got a lot of attention as well. Both good and bad. This was an instance of the bad. Some name calling, some yelling, asking how you could ever support something like this when all the androids do is take and take and blah blah blah.

Really, you weren't listening. You had grown used to it at this point, it was something you could easily tune out.

Though, it was clear that the people nagging you were not a fan of being ignored. Markus was only a little ways ahead of you, but it was still enough of a distance that he couldn't stop the way they grabbed you to look at them. A small struggle ensued, which caught Markus' attention. He was quick to rush over to you, pulling off one of the two attacking you, but it seemed you had the rest of it under control.

A quick knee between the legs was enough to throw them off their balance, then an elbow to the chest knocked the wind out of them long enough for you to get away. As you escaped their grasp, you kept yourself ready, knees bent, arms up, ready for anything more they had to throw your way. Of course, the kerfuffle was enough to get the attention from onlookers, and the attackers found it best to avoid further humiliation.

With them submitting to defeat, Markus looked to you, first making sure you were okay. Once that was settled, he found himself looking at you with an impressed smile. "Maybe you should be the one protecting me," he joked.

"Maybe," You said, relaxing now that you weren't in danger anymore. "At least I'd know you'd be safer."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 21: ~

Reunions Part 1:

Here it is. The moment you've been waiting for. So, I cried writing this chapter. These next few chapters are all happening at the same time but are told through different perspectives.

TW: Mention of parental death.

Part 22:

Who knew cleaning the chicken coops could take so long? Gibbo and Innes certainly didn't, but they had fun, despite how chaotic it got for them. Chickens don't like being held by strangers. Poor Gibbo nearly crushed their homes, trying to keep hold of them. Their panic caused him to panic, which caused Innes to panic. Eventually, they had over thirty chickens to deal with, but unlike the cows, they just lingered and didn't try and escape, thanks to the wired fencing. Just don't touch them, but keep them out of their coop.

The pair took turns. When Innes was cleaning and collecting any eggs, Gibbo made sure to distract them with chicken feed. Every twenty minutes, they'd swap. Soon, it was obvious, Innes was better at cleaning than Gibbo was. Scoop out the straw that could hold parasites such as fleas and bacteria. Scrub everything down with hot water. Finally, let everything air-dry after giving everything a final wipedown. Before they knew it, the pair were heading back to the house to give Roy and Muir the eggs for a salmonella test. It was pass 3pm.

'Well, that was fun.'

'Yeah, when you're not being attacked by Sunday Lunch.'

The pair shared a laugh. One of those laughs you make when you calm down from the stress and have a moment to reflect, and wonder why you got so stressed in the first-

'Knox?'

Gibbo's laugh stopped with time itself, and everything went cold. His heart froze. His smile quickly faded. Slowly, he followed the familiar voice until his widened eyes locked with Irene. His mother was here. Then he noticed Jackie. His son. His little boy. Usually, after seeing your loved ones after so long, you're supposed to he jumping for joy. For Knox Charles 'Charlie' Gibson, he was still. He was terrified. He rang for them to come, but now reality was staring him in the face.

He stared, and they stared back. He dropped the eggs from his tendrils. He didn't let them speak, and even if they did, his mind didn't register.

Gibbo turned and ran. He ran for the barn and practically lunged himself inside. Good thing Trots and Brodie weren't there, or they would have been crushed. Compared to the other infected, except Trots, he was slow, but that didn't stop him from trying to flee. When he was inside, Gibbo found refuge in the shadows on the second floor. The cats all dashed outside in a panic, and Gibbo literally curled himself into a ball, hiding his head inside the fleshy mass. He couldn't bring himself to move. Only rock himself to find some comfort. He was scared. Just like in the Water Tanks.

'Why? Why did you bring them? Fuckin' idiot. Look at yourself. How could they love someone like you? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Maybe, you should stay here and rot-'

'Knox?'

Again, the sweet voice of Irene brought Gibbo to a standstill. His mind stopped racing, but he wasn't calm. Quiet the opposite. His body couldn't curl in any further. The sound of footsteps approached the ladder. They began to climb. The Drill Operator was backed into a corner with nowhere to run. What will you do, Gibbo?

Irene approached the literal ball of flesh that was now her son. She may be an older woman who was losing her sight, but she saw the veins pulsing and dead organs trying to escape. The discoloured skin and the small centipede-like legs made from bone. A sorry sight, but she still approached.

'Knox?'

A small whimper replied.

Without hesitation, Irene put a hand on where she knew his head would be. Whenever Gibbo buried his head, flesh would cover it, leaving a sunken appearance. Her touch made him shiver.

'Can you come out, please?' There was no use hiding. He had to face reality.

Be brave, Gibbo. Not just for yourself, but for your ma and Jackie.

After a moment, Gibbo began to slowly uncurl himself. Irene stepped back and watched her son slowly appear. She held in a gasp. That same look from Fiona and Simon crossed her face. Gibbo struggled to look at her, but if Muir and Trots could do it, he could too.

'Hey, ma.' His voice was weak. Shy. But, he had to say something. 'It- I...' Gibbo sighed and slowly moved closer to Irene, who was frozen in place trying to take in what she was seeing through her round glasses. 'I'm sorry. I don't want you to see me like this.' His voice became frantic, and tears began to swell and fall down his cheeks. 'I want to come home, I really do, but I don't know if I can and-'

Irene placed a hand on her son's cheek. She wiped away his tears whilst he looked in surprise. She too began to cry for him, but she kept her signature small smile that could light up a room. It was a Gibson trait. Gibbo felt his breathing slow. He couldn't form a smile like his mum, but he was happy to see her. It showed in his eyes.

'My son. My boy. I've missed you so much.'

A tendril, after a moments hesitation, wrapped around her waist, but it was so loose, Irene didn't notice at first.

'...I missed you too. I'm sorry I ran.'

'Don't be.'

'I look horrible, don't I?'

'No. Not at all. You're still my son.' The tendril tightened, and Irene stepped closer and hugged what she could. An embrace Gibbo's wanted for days.

'I'm scared.'

'Aye. I know, and you have every right to be. But, you know what I think? I think you're very brave.' A pause. 'Jack wants to see you, too.'

Of course. Jack. Hearing his name sparked the courage Gibbo needed. He pulled away from Irene and looked her in the eye. With a deep yet shaky breath, he nodded. As the only male figure in his son's life, Gibbo needed to be brave, even if he was terrified.

Together, they made their way down to the ground floor. Jack, who had been leaning against a beam, saw his dad and grandmother approach. He walked towards his dad, who towered over him. It became a run. Before Gibbo could even say anything, Jack hugged him as tightly as he could. He wasn't afraid and didn't care what his dad looked like because he was just happy to see him after nearly six months.

Gibbo was shocked, but that quickly turned to relief. Jack wasn't scared of him. He worried himself over nothing, and it wasn't just because of his infection. Being away for so long, would Jack have stopped loving him? The answer was loud and clear.

Manoeuvring his body to be lower for his family, Gibbo looked at his son and began to ruffle his hair. Something they always did when he got home. Jack responded with the usual; 'Daaaaaad,' whine that he didn't mean, which was accompanied with a laugh they both shared.

'Have you gotten taller?'

'Yep. An entire 5 centimetres.'

'You'll be taller than me in no time,' Gibbo laughed.

With every tendril his body could create at once, Gibbo wrapped them around his family and pulled them close. The amount made his body look frail and small. The bones pushing against his skin and the smaller masses of flesh exposed the pockets of fat whilst making the veins pop even more. But no one cared. Gibbo glanced at the tendril that still held his locket. He felt her presence. Elanor was here.

She approached, dressed in the white maxi-dress from his dream, with her hair flowing. There was a glow to her complexion. Of course, this was all in his mind, and he knew that. This was their goodbye.

Elanor held his face in her hands. She kissed him on the forehead, allowing Gibbo to sigh and close his eyes. He wanted the moment to last forever.

Back in the Water Tanks, when the fog was lifted, Gibbo's mind was flooded with the memories of himself and Elanor. It was happening again. From when they met to their first date and Christmas together, to when she announced her pregnancy. They spent weeks designing the nursery. This time, it didn't end with her passing as Gibbo held Jack, who wasn't even an hour old, in his arms. In his mind, Elanor turned and walked away with a smile. Her radiant glow consumed her body like a star.

'...I love you...'

Then he opened his eyes, and she was gone. His grip on the locket tightened, and he slowly broke the hug, retracting all but one of the tendrils and making his body go back into original shape. It was an odd feeling, but somehow, it felt normal. Quickly, to help himself focus, Gibbo turned the attention to Jack. A playful smile crossed his face.

'Ah, I thought I heard something...' The remaining tendril had sneakily moved into Jack's pocket and pulled out the bag of marbles, holding them above his head, just out of reach.

'Hey!' Jack jumped but kept missing as Gibbo swung the bag around.

'Quiet the collection, Jackie.'

'Impressive, eh? Do you wanna play with me, dad?'

'You'll have to remind me how the game works.'

'Well, first off, we're gonna need a wide space.'

Roy watched from the barn door with a smile on his face. Then he heard two young voices calling his name...

[vioartemis]

You have to let me go

(Tara Carpenter x fem! reader)

Summary: A year after the night, after moving to New York, Sam forces Tara to talk about something she would've rather avoided Warnings: blood, injuries, ‘slight’ (maybe a little more than ‘slight’) angst (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

It had been a year since that night at Woodsboro, at Amber's house, where she and Richie tried to kill everyone. One year since Tara saw you get shot.

She was so scared she had lost you that day.

"Amber, put the gun down" you said, walking slowly towards her as she was aiming at Tara

"Oh, you think you scare me Y/n? I'll kill you both!"

"It's not too late to stop, you can still make the right choice"

"I know."

With that, her index finger went to the trigger, ready to shoot the brunette. Tara couldn't move, paralyzed in fear. She didn't want to die. She couldn't die now.

That was when you rushed to Amber, redirecting her arm so she shot the wall. She pushed you to the ground, tried to shoot Tara again, but you kicked her legs, making her fall next to you.

You straddled her, pinned her left hand above her head, and were struggling to do the same with the other one. She still had the gun.

Tara looked away for a second, looking for the other gun Richie dropped earlier. She bent down and took it from under a cupboard.

When she heard the gunshot, Tara's head jolted up in your direction. You were still on top of Amber, pinning both her hands to the ground. In the silence that followed, she could hear a faint noise.

Plop.

Plop.

Plop.

Red droplets were dripping from your chest onto the wooden floor. A red stain started to appear on your back, growing quickly at the liquid was absorbed by your shirt.

Tara felt her heart stop when she saw you falling on top of Amber, who pushed you to the side so she could get up. The sight of you lying on the floor in a puddle of your own blood made her go crazy.

She didn't even realize what she did until she heard Amber's body hit the ground. Didn't pay too much attention to it either.

She ran to you, pressing her hands on your wound to stop the bleeding.

Your eyes were closed, you were pale. For a second she thought you were dead.

But you opened your eyes slowly, hissing in pain.

"Fortunately, she doesn't know how to aim..." you said weakly, making her smile

That was very typical of you, joking in this kind of situation. She would've been disappointed if you didn't - or worried.

She didn't remember well the next days, it was all blurry, but she blamed the painkillers and the aftershock of the attack for it. All that mattered was that you were alive, and by her side.

When the time had come to move to New York, she was relieved. She felt like she could finally breathe and that she finally had a chance to live happy with you.

You went to Central Park together, watching sunsets and eating ice cream while sitting on a bench. You went to karaoke, ice rinks, roller parks, everything that you never tried before.

You even tried axe throwing once, but quickly abandoned the idea when the weapon brushed your head. Maybe it was a little too dangerous for a date.

It was so refreshing to do all these things without being worried of being attacked by Ghostface. To the brunettes, everything seemed lighter here, people seemed nicer too.

Tara liked her new friends, Anika, Ethan and Quinn - who was also their roommate. Out of the three, her favorite was definitely Anika, Mindy's girlfriend. She was so sweet and cute... Nothing compared to you of course, you were her one and only.

To her surprise, they didn't seem to really like you thought. They seemed distant when talking about you, as if they were hiding some kind of feeling they didn't want her to see. Which was understandable; who would want their friends to tell them they didn't like their girlfriend?

Even Sam who had always loved you was acting strange. Side eyes, little looks every now and then... Maybe she was just worried about her. Which was, again, understandable.

What was less clear was the people in the street. They were looking at you with furrowed eyebrows. Maybe they weren't used to see two girls holding hands publicly...

Tara didn't pay too much attention to it, preferring to focus on you and your beautiful smile. That smile she wanted to see every day when she woke up for the rest of her life.

She put a movie on for the two of you, your favorite one, and didn't know if she should get popcorn or not. She didn't like the taste of it on your lips when she kissed you, but she liked eating it while watching a movie, comfortably huddled in your arms.

"Can we talk?" Sam suddenly asked her

"We're kinda busy right now, don't you see we're watching a movie?"

"That's what we need to talk about Tara. You can't keep doing that."

"Watching movies with my girlfriend?" Tara asked, confused

"Pretending she's still here"

"What are you talking about? Y/n's right here!"

"No, she's not. It's all in your head Tara... None of us can see her..."

The brunette looked behind her, where her friends where standing, not far away from Sam.

"It's not funny, Sam. Guys please, tell her to stop"

"..."

She turned to you, seeking your help.

"Y/n do something... Tell her to stop, you know how I felt when-"

"... She's right Tara..." you said with a sad smile "You have to let me go..."

"What...? But-"

"You need to accept it Tara..." her sister said

"It's okay my love, acceptance doesn't mean you will forget me... You need to move on, start a new life here with your friends..."

"What are you guys talking about? What should I accept?"

"That she died at Woodsboro, that very night at Amber's house" Sam intervened

"No I- I was there I-"

"You couldn't save me Tara..."

Plop.

Plop.

Plop.

Red droplets were dripping from your chest onto the wooden floor. A red stain started to appear on your back, growing quickly at the liquid was absorbed by your shirt.

Tara felt her heart stop when she saw you falling on top of Amber, who pushed you to the side so she could get up. The sight of you lying on the floor in a puddle of your own blood made her go crazy.

She didn't even realize what she did until she heard Amber's body hit the ground. Didn't pay too much attention to it either.

She ran to you, pressing her hands on your wound to stop the bleeding.

Your eyes were closed, you were pale. For a second she thought you were dead.

Then it lasted a minute. Then two. Then five.

You weren't opening your eyes.

No matter how much she cried, how much she begged you to, you didn't move.

Her hands were soaked with your blood. Her heart was broken in million pieces.

She couldn't admit it, you couldn't be gone. Not like that. Not now. You would open your eyes soon, hissing in pain, and say something like 'Fortunately, she doesn't know how to aim'.

Her eyes filled with tears when the realization hit her.

"But our dates last year...? A-and all these nights we spent together...? And... and everything that happened since that night...?"

"I was never here..."

"N-no I- I can't make up all this in my mind...! Y-you're talking to me right now, it's you, it's-"

"Is it really? Didn't you notice that I only seem to say what you wanted to hear...?"

"Y-yeah but that's how it has always been... we never fought before... A-and I don't want to hear what you say right now...!"

"But you need to, and your inner self is plenty aware of that..."

"Y/n..."

She reached for your hand, but she couldn't take it. It was like she tried to grab a fistful of fog; impossible. She looked up at you, terrified.

"No... no no no no... please..."

She tried to grab your hand again, then your arm, your thigh, anything that could prove to her that you were here. But she couldn't. She could still see you, but touching you had become impossible.

"It's normal that you can't touch me, your brain is starting to process... Soon you will not see me anymore..."

Indeed, you started to slowly fade away as her brain processed the information.

"No please... I don't want to...! I don't want you to go...! I- I need you Y/n...! Please stay...!" she tried to hold you, unsuccessfully

"I'll still be with you, in your heart, in your memory..."

"Please Y/n... baby... I- I can't... I can't do it without you..."

"Tara, my love... You have your sister, your friends, they're here to help you... And I'll be here too, sometimes, if you really need me. But you have to try and live your life..."

You had that smile that made her fall so hard 4 years ago. That smile that she loved so much. She knew it was only her mind making it up for her so the last image she would have of you would be that smile. She could see you were fading away.

Yet you seemed so real...

Tears were rolling down her cheeks as she watched you disappear.

She stared at the empty space you left next to her, until Sam took her in her arms.

"It's going to be okay, I promise..."

"S-she's gone... I... Sam, I can't... I can't without her... I- I need her... I..."

The brunette sobbed uncontrollably in her sisters' arms, who rubbed her back gently, trying to comfort her a little.

Moving on would be difficult. So difficult. But she knew that was what you would've wanted. See her happy.

[sxeraphfic]

Donnie Darko x goth!reader 🙏🙏🙏

GOTH!READER X DONNIE DARKO    

WARNINGS; basically none! Slight swearing and bullying but that's it. 

WORDCOUNT: 1.5k

A/N: Gender neutral prns used in this for readers! I'm assuming by goth you mean trad goth (which fits the time era honestly) or maybe romantic goth (my style hehe lol) so I'll keep that as a reference.  Theres also a pov switch half way through. Hope it isn't too jarring!

˚ ‧ ₊ ♱ ༺ 𓆩 ❦︎ 𓆪 ༻ ♱ ₊ ‧ ˚

Donnie had never had a particular taste in people, really, he’d be surprised and feel lucky enough to have someone even glance over at him in a slightly romantic regard. Sure he had his ex-girlfriend Gretchen show interest in him but that didn't really assure him of how attractive he was, he could barely comprehend how others perceive him other than the obvious being that he's a little out of it. He liked all sorts of different styles of people, who was he to judge? It's not like he was particularly fashionable outside of the average late 80s young mens fashion.  

This statement wouldn't last long though, as he placed his backpack on the back of his chair and sat down he saw an unfamiliar person sitting at the front of his class alone from the others. The teacher smacked the chalkboard with her ruler to gain the class's attention, “Attention class! Good morning everyone”  she announced. “Today we have a student transferring from the other class to join ours” students began to whisper to each other, “Dear, why don't you come up here and introduce yourself?” she clearly had good intentions with asking this. But this is like.. The number one way to make a kid embarrassed, Donnie pondered to himself. 

The transfer stood up in front of the board “um.. hey.. my name y/n l/n,  i've moved from the class next door” -- “no wonder you had to move '' one of the kids called out jokingly, y/n sighed in an annoyed tone. Donnie stared at you, you were well.. Clearly alternative, goth? You were dressed in the normal school uniform but your hair, makeup, piercings made it obvious you weren't like the basic kid. He felt his insides twist a little, you were beautiful. You looked so mysterious and otherworldly compared to the other students and he was enamoured by your appearance. 

Apparently some of the less emotionally intelligent people in our class didn't see that though, not even ten minutes after finishing your introduction and sitting back down you had some kids throw paper balls at you from across the classroom. And as the average lame ass teacher does she ignored your clear bullying situation. Donnie wanted to say something, but bit his tongue. Glancing at you pitfully only to be met with a glare in return, ‘oh god, did i make them feel even worse?’ He worried to himself. ‘Of course I did. God, I'm bad at being chill.‘

A few hours after school, as the dark began to dawn upon the sky donnie found himself lying on his bed daydreaming of you, what type of music could you be into? Surely Dark wave or post punk right? Did you dress even more extreme outside of school? Were you secretly kind and sweet underneath your intimidating appearance? Were your lips as soft as they seemed? Donnie snapped out of it, what was he thinking… he felt kind of creepy daydreaming about someone he's never even spoken to before. Ever since he had gotten home he'd been more zombie-like than usual, his parents even asked him at the dinner table if he had been taking his meds and he scoffed, for once that wasn't the issue. The issue was he had fallen in love at first sight. 

Morning came around, Donnie walked with his doofhead friends aside his sister and her little group. “Donnieee” Samantha groaned “we’re all gonna be late for the bus we took too long!” Donnie and his friends shrugged and Samantha retorted “well my friends and i aren't gonna miss the bus. Have fun slow pokes” she said as she signalled her friends to start running up to the bus stop.  

Samantha for once in her miniature life span was right, Donnie and his friends did in fact take too long. Now they had to walk all the way to school and be late. This wasn't all bad though, as the one and only y/n pushed between them to get through clearly having also missed the bus as well. He could hear your music practically blasting through your walkman, funny. Wasn't that a metalhead thing to do? Donnies friends began to snicker to themselves “what a loser” they whispered in reference to you. Donnie gave them an annoyed glare, before speeding up to walk next to you and speak. 

 “Uh.. hey uh-” he began, you looked at him in confusion, taking your headphones off. 

“What?” you said bluntly, internally you were nervous, you'd already gotten the shit bullied out of you yesterday. You don't need another total dweeb ruining your day before you even manage to get in the school gates.  “I'm uh.. Donnie Darko, I figured I'd say hi since we’re in the same class now right?” he smiled awkwardly and attempted to shake your hand. You gave him a wonky smile back, “oh uh.. hey nice to meet you Donnie.” The handshake failed miserably, you tried to shake his hand but took too long to process the action.  

 What the fuck am i doing? Donnie thought to himself, he was incredibly nervous. The two of you had been walking in essentially complete silence for 5 minutes now, Donnie felt like an idiot for assuming someone as cool as you would be interested in talking to him, he gave you a slight glance and you returned it back

Sighing, you figured that indulging in a little conversation wouldn't kill you. Besides, if he came up to you in the first place and has stuck around walking with you for this long without saying anything outlandish surely he wasn't all bad.

“Sooo.. Darko huh? Kind of a cool last name isn't it?” you initiated. “You think it's cool? I swear people just make fun of me or think it's weird” he looked at you with giddiness in his eyes and smiled, ‘oh. He's cute.’ you thought to yourself.  “So is there a particular reason you've decided to be nice to me Donnie?” he shrugged nervously “Oh well- i mean i don't know, i'm not exactly popular myself so i guess i understand how it feels to be judged” you thinly smiled in response before you began to hear high pitched exaggerating moaning noises from behind you, Donnie’s friends were acting up. “Ugh fuck im sorry about them.” Donnie groaned, “it's chill, i've dealt with worse” you shrugged, before continuing “ever jigged school before Donnie?” he raised his brow at you “sure have y/n.” you giggled “let's ditch these losers i know a spot.” 

You lead him down an old path through the forest before sitting at what looked like some sort of strange concrete circle on the ground. “Jesus y/n how’d you even manage to find this place?” he voiced in shock “Someone who looks like me has their ways,” you smirked. “Y'know y/n i may end up regretting this, i actually have some major sleepwalking issues. I'd hate to wake up down here at 6am” he chuckled softly before sitting on the ground with you. “Sleepwalking? At this age too? Why's that?” Donnie smiled looking down to the ground “oh well uh.. We all got our own problems right?” “amen to that donnie.” you started to soften up, he seemed genuine. 

“Hey, sorry about glaring at you the other day. And being kind of rude when you tried to speak to me earlier” his eyes stared into yours “it's fine y/n, and understandable.. You have all sorts of people targeting you at the moment id be no different at first sight” he continued “i mean, with the way you look and all. You don't seem to care to live up to others expectations of what you should be, you're more free than m-majority of the people in our school will e-ever be. I'm uh envious really.” he started off saying this quite assertively, but his words tangled in soft stutters at the end as the intensity of your gaze made him recoil into himself. “Wow Donnie, I didn't expect that many words to come out of your mouth.. Let alone be so true..” “It feels good to have someone who gets it for once.” you warmly smiled. 

“Do you listen to music, Donnie?” you inquired “you mean do i listen to your type of music?” he snickered, you rolled your eyes in response “duh.” He thought about it for a second “well yeah i guess technically, nothing super niche but i like new wave.” you nodded your head “we should uh.. Y'know hangout sometime and listen together, i could introduce you to some stuff " Donnie perked up "in a going together type of way?” you gave him a confused look. “Ah sorry i meant to say going out ugh” he looked flustered and you giggled, before standing up and proceeding to pull him with you. You embraced him, gazing into his eyes beginning to lean in closer to his face. 

Hehe cliff hanger. Maybe you guys kissed, maybe you pushed him away and called him a weirdo! Who knows, hope you enjoyed my lovelies 

partially proof read. will check for mistakes.

[an-abyss-of-stars]

𖤓 Don't You Dare Do This Without Me 𖤓 Ch. 4

Pairing: Rhaena x Aemond

Warnings: Smut, oral sex (f), teasing

Word Count: 8.6k

Summary: Aemond faces off against his pregnant dragoness and does his best to coax her into bed with him...Rhaena is having none of it...at first...

.

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ao3 | 

Notes: SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT ...incominggg

A little bit of oral to start...

As the heavy aged doors of his royal chambers closed behind him, a sense of deep seeded calm and serenity seeped into his very bones. Aemond had even closed his eye, slipped off his eye patch as he took a deep settling breath. Inhaling that sweet fresh scent before he exhaled heavily, a silent wordless prayer to his soul. 

He already felt slightly healed compared to how he had felt before he'd entered the castle.

"Ao sagon arlī," you're back.

Mmmm…

He'd know her voice anywhere, that soft delicate timbre that was clearly priming like a prelude to a violent storm. Though, at that moment he could care less about the impending danger, she still felt like a breath of fresh air compared to the ever enduring lecture he'd just subjected himself to. Here, it was so easy to ignore the inevitable when his heart ached at the sound of her voice. His blood trilled at the sound of her effortlessly rolled R's, the silky tone that fluttered from her lips in their family's ancient tongue.

"Iksan," I am, Aemond only managed to breathe the word, slowly opening his eye to find her standing before him. A sudden apparition, she'd appeared like a vision. All glittery and alight, utter perfection in her crimson velvety gown. Black lace dragons and flowers intricately embroidered to contrast the red silk. Fitted taut to her bodice, while her skirts flowed loosely. It was as he remembered, the dress she’d had on when he’d initially charged out of this room hours ago. 

That dress…it was stirring it all up again, that storm within him. The things he'd wanted from her…the very things she'd denied him. 

And just like before…he couldn't help himself. The trajectory of where his eye often fell these days, the slightest exposure of her cleavage that led to the ample heft of her milk filled breasts. The near animalistic, unfettered urge to reach for them now...to ignore the battle she so obviously wished to have in favour of tearing her dress from her body. Uttering whatever empty agreement she'd need reached just to have her settled upon his lap, to allow him access to her pillowy bare mounds. He still so wished to bury his face there, to massage the tender soreness away as he usually did around this time for her.

It would soothe him to do so, he knew it would. 

Just as he was sure he could ease the growing pressure and discomfort she was surely feeling. If she'd only give herself over to him, allow him the access he craved from her. 

To take to her teat with vigor….the act of freely suckling from her.

It was the image of it, the wanting…he was sick with it. The all-consuming need to have her in his arms, to be wrapped and curled around her soft body. 

He almost wanted to groan aloud, the frustration was giving way to something more. Burning him deep within his center, causing restless shivers to unnerve his entire being. 

To be frank, she was already standing so close. Rhaena had waddled her way over to him, standing at her full height…just barely reaching the height of his shoulder. The close proximity of her had raised the speed in which his heart thumped within his chest. It was arousal and fury that coursed within him now, that irritation that itched at him, it was leading him to some rather unsightly places within his mind. 

At the sight of her presence alone, he could envision scooping her up without a word. Furiously carrying her to their bed and having his way with her. 

It would have been easy.

And in that moment, in the darkest seed of his mind…he figured he’d blame her for it. 

She’d allowed these needs of his to fester, she’d rebuffed him when all he had wanted was her company...physical company. And now he hungered for more…he hungered for every inch of her. That rage that always laid within him, a sunken gorge filled with black tar…it craved her very essence. 

Blood would not satiate this. 

He could see that now, Aemond could tell by the fire roaring in his veins. It wouldn‘t have mattered how many people he’d killed to numb the feeling, how many villages, cities, ships…scorched earth or not. 

His salvation was here…

So what would it take?

The weakness she’d managed to embed in him, stitched to the core of his heart…he still needed her to enjoy his touch. He couldn’t stomach causing another situation in which she laid unmoving and unfeeling beneath him, the wretched feeling of fucking what felt like a lifeless corpse was not satisfying in the least. Nor was mere thought of ever repeating a mirror to the night she cried beneath him a few years prior. 

What he wanted…was to return to this morning. The way she’d been before the sun rose…before everything went to shit.

As Rhaena stopped inches away from him, her face came into clear view, tilting upwards to catch his gaze. Aemond’s mind untangled as she garnered his full undivided attention. Her beautiful soft visage, the faint smattering of freckles upon the apple of her cheeks. Her pale eyes sparkling in the light of the late afternoon sun, with her plush heart-shaped lips, he watched intensely as they settled into a rather firm line at the sight of him, "ao iēdrosa yknagon hen ōrbar se zaldrīzes's perzys…Iksā ribazmoqitta, ao gīmigon bona ȳdra daor ao," you still smell of smoke and dragon's fire…you are mad, you know that don't you.

Ah, he should have known... 

Sweet words would not be bestowed upon him just yet. 

Biting his lower lip, he sought to fight the sinister grin that threatened to form upon his face. It wasn’t the bloom of pride that spread within his gut, but something remarkably similar was working its way through him. Because, of course she’d started at him in this way. Nodding her head slightly as if to prove that this was an absolute certainty she’d directed at him. That he must be mad, how else would he have chosen to act as he did…her eyes said it all. Her words wielded at him like a blade, her voice even held a slight edge to it. Something so faint, so miniscule, it was a wonder he could detect such differences in her tone at all. 

But he knew his wife well, she could be just as petty as he could. Hurling such specific words at him…aiming for his ego, his heart.

Oh, how she often wished to wound him. 

As he’d wounded her so many years ago.

Though, in his case he’d purposely isolated her to the point of no return. Taken from her that which could never be returned to her…she’d never have her loved ones back. And truthfully she knew, with Helaena gone, Aemond had no one else she could or would ever harm that would matter to him truly. Choosing not to foster a relationship with his mother did not cut him the way she probably would have hoped that it would. And she loved their children far too much to ever harm them…so really, she could never strike at him in a way that lasted. 

But she could always jab at him, personally, remind him of his sins…his faults. 

She so loved to insult him. 

And he so loved to feign coyness, purposely allowing that dark grin of his to properly stretch upon his curved lips. Easing his chin upwards, truly looking down at her with a heavily lidded gaze. Scanning her face and finding joy in the pretty yet infuriated look upon it, Aemond then lowered his voice down an octave, "ao kessa emagon naejot ȳrda ziry ilagon, ñuha dōna ābrazȳrys," you shall have to narrow it down, my sweet wife. 

Surely in the grand scheme of things it didn't really matter. Like Lucerys, the boy was dead...intent or not. Regret or no. This farming village was torched to the ground. Why he did it, no longer really mattered now that it was done. Besides, the move was calculated enough…he had his own misgivings to sift through when the dust settled. But in the interim, all he cared about now was fulfilling the wants he was denied several hours ago. 

He wanted his wife in their bed and this time he would have her there.

Slowly but surely, he was closing the gap between them, taking relaxed yet precise steps towards her. That urge to tug her against him spiked like a beacon, the closer he was…the more he eyed her entire form. With the way her gentle slender hands caressed her stomach absentmindedly, the sweet rounding swell of it. The evidence of their bonds, the ever enticing roundness of her swollen belly. It was hypnotic to him, the sight alone created so many heated notches along his spine. The knowledge of it, the reality that he alone fucked that child into her. Bred her perfectly, for the third time in a row. Three pregnancies, two births…not one complication thus far, surely a silent blessing from the Gods. A proven point as he’d always believed it to be true, they were fated to be with one another. 

Rhaena Targaryen was made to be his Queen…no matter how much she liked to deny that fact whenever their arguments grew heated. 

Whenever the fact that she had become the mother to the next generation of Targaryens to sit the throne…it weighed on her. Soon enough they’d have another…and soon enough he’d fill her with another…and another…

This constant state of pregnancy was a dream of his and now they were living it…and it was exquisite. His heartbeat battered within his chest, his gaze surely burned her as he watched her intently. Predatorily eyeing his prey, but his prey could read him. Rhaena stepped through the rays of sunlight like a goddess, soaking in all of his attention. Her tawny complexion warmed into a golden brown in the sun as her silvery-white twists that she'd sported pinned upon her head earlier in the morning. Had been loosened, unbound, draped behind her shoulders and down her back, leveling down to her waist. 

He wanted to palm it. 

To have her on all fours as he tugged a handful of it 

Rutted himself deep inside of her warmth as he took her from behind…

Even in the details, his mind wandered…he tried to focus on what was right in front of him, Eyeing the roots of her hair, several soft wispy curls had slipped free from the loosened twists she'd kept for the week. And he could wonder then, that had he stayed in bed with her this morning, she would have told him that she found her current style in need of freshening. She would have hummed in his arms about the task of undoing them, combing through her pretty curly coils before she set about the intensive process of washing and caring for her hair.

And perhaps, he supposed such a topic should bore him...it probably would have if he’d been wed to anyone else. It certainly would for the average married nobleman. Yet, instead, Aemond found himself regretting having missed it. He’d regretted leaving as early as he did this morning, regretted cutting his time with her so soon. It was his will, to fixate on every little part of her…every aspect of her. 

He’d cut himself off from her too soon.

And then she returned the favour. 

Perhaps, he had done this to himself. 

Rhaena’s pale lilac eyes gazed up at him heavily. Her brows set deeply then her expression faltered, she’d caught something in his eye…the look of it…the undeniable stark arousal within it. But she dared to push past it, boldly moving even closer to him. If he hadn’t known any better, Aemond would have wagered that his dragoness still wished to be in his embrace. Walking into his space like a prey would into a trap they already bore witness to. 

She still wanted him…she only wished to be in the midst of combat with him while she indulged him.

And with her sweet scent drawing even closer...drowning him in it. A scent he was already addicted to, so potent with the source so near…he had the half the mind to acquiesce her unworded request. To drink her in…to steep himself in her scent and clear his mind entirely. 

Ah, and now her cheeks were reddening, her body heated as her voice hitched before she levelled it, "ao gīmigon olvie skoros ao gōntan! Ao zaltan iā lentor ilagon! Kesrio syt nyke gōntan daor jaelagon naejot qogralbar pirtir lēda ao!?" you know exactly what you did! You burned a village down! Because I did not wish to fucking lie with you!?

Oh how she knew him well, his little wife knew he paid far more attention to her beratements when she spoke to him in High Valyrian. And now she was waiting for a reply she did not truly care to hear. Though he figured he'd give her one nonetheless, such a glutton he was for her form of punishment. Leaning in closely to her, so eager to push her emotions further, eager to draw her right into his arms whether it was through anger or sheer want. Whichever came first. So with his arms folded behind his back, he pouted slightly, “pār ao gīmigon olvie skoro syt, ao yenka emagon ilagontan lēda nyke. Ñuha byka ābrazȳrys," then you know exactly why, you should have lain with me. My little wife.

Rhaena groaned furiously, eager to hit him, he was sure. Baring her teeth, her face grew a slight tinge rosier. She was a sight in her fury, such an ethereal woman…such an adorable expression. As her hands fell to fists at her hips, she turned away from him quickly, growling lowly, “bisa iksis daor dōna. Issa daor kirimves. Ao daor gaomagon gomagho bisa!" This is not cute. It is not funny. You cannot keep doing this! She exclaimed, groaning as she finally aimed to step around him, her hands reaching up into her hair as she tugged in a semblance of decompression. Still, her moving around him forced his gaze to zero in on her heaving chest. The curvy swoop of her waist and the shapely width of her widened hips. A true hourglass figure, by the Gods…he’d never thought her body would only grow to morph into an even shapelier figure. Shifting with each childbirth, becoming even more enticing as time went on.

For, he was more than simply enthralled…he was entirely hard. His cock already straining against his breeches, tight and painfully full with need. All of that weight she gained for each babe…every part of her so curved and soft…round and plush and weighted. 

He was losing focus, that much was clear.

It was obvious now, he couldn’t let her move away from him. As she had moved to step around him, his arm quickly snatched her forearm and pulled her back. She couldn’t help but follow the momentum, her weight tipping towards him as he already stood open armed and ready to catch her. And she did fall against him with a soft grunt. Already groaning when she felt his arms snake around her waist, his hands grabbing at her…pulling her flush against his firm body. Aemond could be unrelenting, patience having already long left his senses as he began to swarm her. Holding her soft body against him with such an unyielding grip, leaning into her, lowering himself down enough to nudge her nose with his own. In an effort to chase her lips…to pull her into his own hypnotic orbit.

Still, low effort as it was, she grunted and evaded his kiss. 

This game…it was growing tiresome with such little reward being given. 

Instead, he lowered himself further, burying his face in the crook of her neck, he smoothly lingered there. Breathing her in, nuzzling her there, grazing his lips along her warm skin. Just as his hot tongue began to drag along her pulse-

"Mmm…FUCK!" she screamed at him, the immediate switch back to the common tongue snapped his concentration for only a millisecond, but not long enough to release her. Not long to stop his warm pressing kisses. Rhaena, however, tried and failed to pull away, “stop it. Stop…I want you to focus! This is not a game, real people died!”

She was whining, so sweetly like that and yet she thought he’d be able to stop. All she’d done was entice him further, causing him to growl against her, tightening his hold of her. And really through it all he was just so fucking tired of hearing about that small inconsequential village, what did it matter to them. Land that held no Lord, land that had no real value. So many traitors lay there in the mist to begin with. 

That rebellion that broke out near those lands.

So fucking near to Lannisport, not three days ride away…and yet, it was not House Lanny or  House Lannett or even House Lantell that put down the rebellion before it could rise up. The three closest Houses to the lands of Oxcross…and yet they’d heard no word of a whisper. And they lifted not one finger to handle things on behalf of their sworn King. 

Three Houses…three branches of distant kin to the residents of the equally near Casterly Rock. 

House Lannister…the largest seat in the area. Sat by the young child of a Lord, Loreon Lannister. Or really in truth, the one who pulled the strings was still the Dowager Lady Johanna Westerling. If the Lannetts, the Lannys and the Lantells all deferred to her first. If she deterred them…if she still held bitterness over Aemond’s indifference to taking any of her daughters to wed as his Queen four years ago. 

The suspicions were there. 

To leave Lannisport so unguarded with a rebellion on the loose. One of the most major ports of the Seven Kingdoms, the largest settlement in the westerlands…and Lady Johanna did not call to have it put down sooner. Instead she waited for the aid of a dragon…she’d waited until Aemond had grown tired of the inaction and decided it was best to simply send his brother to deal with the mess. 

There were facets to this…and yet his Queen only wished to speak about the insignificant lives that were lost when her husband still so clearly needed her focus to be put upon him. He could discuss his theories with her at length when his mind was settled…for now…he needed her. 

With his teeth now grazing her skin, threatening to break the tenderness, threatening to leave a trail of several marks along her slender neck. Through it all, his growls grew darker, “I am not the one who needs to focus. You, my dear, are too preoccupied with lives that do not concern you.”

“Mmmm, but of course, nothing should supersede the needs of your wanting cock,” she scoffed, hoping to dig her nails in upon his biceps. As if she hoped her claws could pierce through the many layers he wore in his everyday life. Through his fine leather tunic, his layered jerkin, his under-cloth shirt. But it was the effort of it, he liked to know she was trying to bite back at him. Loved the feel of her arms draping over his shoulders if only for her nails to scratch at the nape of his neck. The delicious twinge of pain she elicited. 

“I’m not going to tend to you now. Rewarding you for needless murder is not something I find to be enticing,” Rhaena posed the words as if she wished for him to respond to it, only to cut off the birth of silence she’d supplied him, “I did not even wish for you to leave earlier…I only wanted you to explain yourself. Instead you fly off and torch a village. You cannot keep doing that everytime I refuse to hold you. That's madness!"

Everytime? He’d only done it twice…and that would be including now. The first two were reckless enough, spontaneous acts of violence. But this one…well…if he included that other occasion…perhaps she could view this as three occurrences. 

Even so, it could be equally argued that he could partially explain his destination this time. 

Though to think, she wanted him to stay earlier…

Who would’ve thought. 

Smirking against her neck, Aemond decided he was quite done with it all. He wanted to be in bed with her, so that is where they would continue this if it was her wish. Loosening his hold for only a minute, Rhaena eyed him curiously right as he leaned down and picked her up without warning. Cradling her to him bridal style, he settled her weight against him with ease. Finding pure comfort in holding her in his arms, balancing them both as he began to carry her through their solar.

“Aemond!” she gasped, her hands instantly clutching onto his chest for secured purchase, then she reached for the collar of his tunic, “you can’t-”

“You seem to be denying your King an awful lot today,” he responded dryly, unmoved by her little dramatic display as she even tried to wiggle out his hold at first. A futile effort that she thankfully abandoned soon enough. Reluctantly settling in against him almost immediately afterwards, draping her arm over his shoulder as he would have expected. Her frown setting deeper as she eyed him…that was also to be expected. 

“I’m only exercising my authority. As your Queen, am I not allowed to speak freely,” she turned away from his gaze, pouting now, “besides…some denying would clearly do you some good, no one else will dare do it.”

A smirk spread across his face as he made long strides through their solar. Stepping over scattered toys as he weaved them around their furniture and headed towards their bedchamber. Sneaking in a warm pressing kiss to the dip of her temple before she could shirk away, he smirked, "I promise, dear girl. Others have dared today, my mother for one.”

Her lips smacked as she parted them, not out of shock or astonishment…more out of confusion…skepticism. She seemed to be at a loss for a response. 

“Mmm…in either case, if you really are intent on lecturing me, I must admit, my mother has already beaten you to that as well. I’d rather not have to subject myself to another," the bass in his voice remained resonant, purring almost directly into her ear. He felt her shiver in his arms, watched her lips twitch before she began to nibble upon them. 

When he carefully placed her down on their raised canopy bed, he could see her shoulders relax…the subconscious need to get off her feet finally setting in. She was so focused on arguing with him she’d begun to neglect herself, tsk tsk, “you know what's true madness in all this, is that you'd ever refuse me to begin with. I’ve never made our lovemaking so selfish, your needs would have been met.”

She'd rolled her eyes at that, parting her rose toned lips just as she sank her teeth down upon her lower lip, “I-...this is not a lecture, for one. You are not a child and I should not have to…ugh. Look, I would not have refused you if you’d left my seat upon the council intact…had you at the very least, given me the courtesy of a warning ahead of time…”

As she shifted herself upon the bed’s edge, Aemond took to kneeling in front of her. Eyeing her all the while, he made a small grimace. 

And there it was…in the heat of their back and forth, Aemond knew his stubborn little wife wouldn’t have let it go. 

Honestly, he hoped that she would have moved past that slight by now. In truth, he expected the majority of her anger towards him to be about the village. But the fucking council seat? That was the core of it all wasn't it. Running his fingers through his hair, he undid the braid he'd kept his hair in for most of the day, occupying his fingers with the action as he contemplated his response. In all fairness, he could have worded things kindly for her…seeing as she felt quite personally wounded about it all. 

Then again, the facts of the matter seemed all too obvious to him to even bother. 

“I am allowed to be upset with you…” she’d grumbled beneath her breath, crossing her arms in a huff, propping them underneath her bosom…pushing up her plump cleavage even more so. 

With his heated gaze leveled upon her, he clenched his jaw, grinding it slightly, "I did not think you needed the word told directly by me. You're meant to be in confinement. You're nearly nine moons along, it is only right."

"Right? You gave me no warning! And I know my body well enough, I do not need you to tell me when it's time to be put in confinement! I'm not a horse, there is no period in my pregnancies in which I wish to be locked here in this room again," she huffed, with the intention of standing up and walking away from him. However, that was not going to happen. Aemond was quick to place his large hands down upon her thighs, keeping her seated with a gentle set of force. 

To her immediate dismay. 

Yet, her movement was not the focal point for him. No, it was her phrasing that caught his ear. ‘Locked here in this room again’, he knew exactly what she meant by that. The not so subtle jab at the way he had treated her during her first pregnancy. How she’d been largely confined to this chamber for almost the entirety of it, because he did not trust her to keep their babe as he needed her to. With their second babe, he had granted her far more freedoms. He'd returned her precious Morning to her, he'd allowed her to stroll the grounds with guards at her back and maids at her side. And as negotiated upon the birth of their second born, he'd even given her a spot on his council, as his Queen, free to witness, listen in and even interject if need be.

So, gently, he slotted himself between her thighs, his pulse practically palpitating at the innate warmth of her. There he slid his hands beneath the mildly weighted silk of her skirts, he began to push the flowy fabric up along her legs. She tutted at him, but he didn’t stop himself, he folded the bunched material at her hips. Tucked beneath her belly as he admired the smooth feel of her bare thighs and then her calves, running his calloused hands along them. Bringing his attention down the dainty poppy red slippers upon her feet, as he popped them off one at a time. Leaning himself into her as his hands casually messaged her sore feet. 

He could be both considerate and attentive to her needs if only given the chance. If only she could see that’s all he’d done today…it had been for her benefit…with her needs in mind. 

As his fingers deftly massaged her feet, Aemond could have sworn he’d heard the breathiest little moan of satisfaction slip from her lips. A little chink in her armour, how he loved to cause it. Rhaena’s own hands remained planted on either side of her hips, palmed down against the bed, fingers gripping the dark folded fur blanket there. She was desperate to hold on to the last semblance of control that she had now…her reluctance to reach for him was wearing her down, he could see it. So that was when he struck, releasing her feet, his hands slid up her thighs once again. Settling on the plush curve at her hips, his left hand already rubbing the underside of her belly. 

“Jurnegon rȳ nyke, hmm,” look at me, he murmured softly. And after a stalled moment, her furrowed brows brought her pale eyes back to him, her button nose scrunching as her lips twisted at him. 

Rhaena would always be the first to say their eldest son took after him, but this expression that was so utterly hers…little Aemon had inherited those inflections almost exactly. 

It warmed his soul to see it really, that look was a sign that he was winning. That her rage was crumbling in the sight of his efforts. Slowly, he could reel her into him, even as she weakly fought against him. Curling his hands around her, he secured his arms around her tightly. Gazing up at her with both his pale indigo eye as well as gleaming sapphire, that was when her hands finally landed upon his shoulders. She finally sighed and allowed her body to guide her closer, close enough for Aemond to nudge his forehead up against hers, "this time it is different, you already know that it is. This confinement is not a prison, I only wished to ease your burdens…to make things comfortable for you."

"How considerate of you," she swallowed thickly, surely aiming to make her response sound as sarcastic as possible, only her shaky delivery made it all sound heated and earnest, "it is a shame you didn't bother to ask me if I wanted that or to warn me even. You couldn’t be bothered, I suppose, to at the very least tell me yourself. Ser Willis is the one who told me after I'd already dressed and readied myself."

"Rhaena," he sighed her name as softly as ever, rasping at the end of it. Yes, he could be gentle if he tried…his patience however, had already stretched as thin as it would go. 

"It was aggravating. Borderline humiliating. You cannot act as if this was done as a kindness when it was handled as it was. Ser Willis is not known for pleasant deliveries,” she'd cut short with what sounded like a low drawn groan, as her nose threatened to nuzzle against his instinctually. The close proximity hypnotically luring her to melt against him, relaxing in his hold of her as her fingers roamed down along his chest. Sparking his senses, burning his skin as her hands warmly slid back towards his shoulders. Caressessing the sharp notch of his Adams apple as her touch traveled along his jaw. Her thumbs tracing the sharp edge of it before raising to cup his cheeks properly, “have I not handled being your mate, the mother of your children and most certainly taking on my role as your Queen, all well enough."

Aemond could feel himself falling victim to her orbit yet again, even though he'd purposely placed himself here...he would lose his upper hand if he wasn’t careful. He could already feel himself leaning into her already, her belly pressing against his chest, his hardening cock felt caught with the pressure of it all. As he raised one of his hands to feel the heat of the life they made, he smoothly brought the other hand up to hold her face. To keep her in place as he leaned his lips closer to hers. Chasing them eagerly, only then did her breath hitch, the sound made his cock grow absolutely rigid with want. As Rhaena's eyes flickered from his eyes down to his lips and then back again, and there she'd hummed to stop him. Halting his desire to close the sliver of distance between their lips, their heated breath already mingling.

"I wasn't done, my impatient zaldrīzes," dragon, she bit back a small faint smile, while he allowed his smirk to pull completely. Her dragon…he did love to hear her possessive terms for him. Loved to be considered hers even when she was cross with him, with her thumb playfully dragging down his lower lip, she smirked, “mmm Aemond, you are trying to distract me,”

A puff of air escaped him as he teased, “is it working?”

At that, she only shook her head, scoffing faintly, “…as your Queen, I need more assurety. You tell me I'm more than your broodmare and then you act without me or on my behalf with no warning at all. I just don't…I do not like being the last to know pertinent information that affects me so directly. I hate to be sidelined when you’ve spent years promising me the opposite. And I certainly mislike feeling powerless in my own life's decisions."

What a bother.

There’d be no distracting her from this topic. 

Mmmm…she wanted more assurety?

As if he hadn't spent the last four years giving her just that. Giving her nearly everything she wanted...a courtesy he’d granted her as she was his Queen.

Breathing deeply, he rested his chin upon the perch of her belly. He found himself reaching around her hips, snuggly holding her in place as he hummed a sound acknowledgement. Recalling his own thoughts from just a few minutes ago, he only wished to 'utter whatever empty agreement she'd need reached just to have her settled upon his lap'. 

Hmmm, it would take some maneuvering to get her onto his lap now...but he figured he could loosen her to that end. In truth, from where he knelt upon the stone floor of their bedchamber...his appetite hungered for something far more immediate. 

Far closer to his lips...far sweeter to the taste. 

Aemond's gaze had darkened almost instantly as his hands slid the curve of her hips, fingers applying the lightest of pressures. He was not being very subtle at all and his Queen knew it. Really, he didn't need to meet Rhaena's eyes directly to notice the furrow of her brows. The heavy sigh that blew from her was telling enough, though she seemed adamant to have his eye on her. Reaching for his chin, she gripped and tilted face upwards. The saturated sun still illuminating her beauty in the most majestic way, even as she spoke with a deep seeded vexation, "you're not listening to me, I can tell."

Well, he was...and he wasn't. 

Biting his lip and he smirked, "you mislike feeling belittled, I heard you," his lips expectantly endured the wandering caress of her thumb. 

If she sought such serious answers... playing with his lower lip was certainly one way to get them. 

"Then..." She paused, her gaze flickering to the window that currently doused her in sunlight, her wispy silver curls shone nearly a glittery white, "tell me, what happened earlier. What angered you so, besides my unwillingness to lie with you then? What was said at the council meeting?" 

Ah...

It wasn't necessarily confidential information, he could care less about keeping her excluded from the issue at hand. What bothered him really, was the thought of sitting here speaking on the delicate matter of the politics of the realm. 

It was a topic he'd enjoy with a clear mind.

A topic he'd revel in divulging with her...after he'd taken what he needed. But he most certainly needed her first, there was no way around that. He could not keep his cock so taut and full as it was for much longer...he could not shake the want from his mind when he sat so ideally right between her legs. 

Without warning he rose to his feet. The matter was settled as far as he was concerned, this was as far as he'd go with just words. He started with his weapons belt, unsheathing his dagger and biting the blade in his mouth as he unlatched his belt and dropped it on the floor. Blackfyre remained sheathed as it fell to the floor. Next, he began unbuttoning his sleek black leather riding tunic, shirking it off and allowing it to fall all the same. 

Rhaena, however, only watched him perplexed all the while. Shaking her head slightly, her hands now held at the edge of the bed, "what are you doing?" 

Aemond thought it obvious, though apparently he'd have to explain the state of things. Apparently the massive bulge beneath the waistband of his breeches was not clear enough for his little wife to see. Even as he threw off his black jerkin, followed by his white cloth undershirt. By then, he took the blade from his mouth, leaning over her, he was somewhat glad to see she seemed utterly unthreatened by the fact that he was holding a dagger over her. In truth, he'd aimed it lower anyhow. 

That was when her eyes lit up, "no...NO! You're not cutting off another one of my dresses! There are buttons precisely placed directly on the front of this one!" 

"I will not be fiddling with lace covered buttons, sweet wife. Besides, I'll have it replaced within the week anyhow," he grinned, already slipping his fingers underneath the neckline of her gown. Feeling the thickness of the fabric, mentally calculating the pressure needed to cut through her sturdy silk layered bodice as well as her thin cotton shift beneath.

Of course, the skill lied in the ability to swiftly slice both away without nicking her with the blade. 

Just as he'd prepared himself to move forward, Rhaena groaned aloud as she shifted. It sounded sultry yet there was something nearly juvenile and pouty about it. Her furrowed brows moved to fret as if she wished to cross her arms to obstruct him, though she never did. She'd quite frankly leaned into his touch, whether she was conscious about it or not...he couldn't say. Her pale eyes only batted at him as her rose tinted lips pushed out, "but this is one of my favourites,"

"I'll gift you several just like it then," he hummed warmly enough, already eyeing the safest path in which he intended to slice. 

"Right, and then you'll cut those just as well. Soon enough I'll be forced to walk these halls bare," she fought to keep her look of petulance, only a cheeky little smile won the battle in the end. That was the prime moment to strike, and Aemond took it, just managing to catch her lips with his own. The immediate warmth that engulfed him as he lazily caught her sweet tongue upon his own. Lingering in the moment just long to feel his own heart soothe and settle with the feel of her. Truly indulging himself with the taste of her mouth, the remnant flavour of a spiced tea and her favoured sugary custard pastries. 

It was a simultaneous act, occupying her captivating mouth just as he pulled his dagger through, snapping each individual button that lined her bodice before cutting down the length of her dress. With his long platinum tresses draping over her, he felt her fingers trace the line of his scar upon his left cheek before feeling the edge of his jawline. Reaching to tuck his arrant strands behind his ear, there he gently pulled himself from her. Timed equally with a breathy gasp, Rhaena huffed, "mmmm...you're still a mad man, you didn't even answer my question." 

Mad? 

She had no idea...

Licking his lips, he still savoured the taste of her...eager to taste the sweet spot between her legs for the second time today, "consider my eagerness to be a necessity then." His voice was growing hoarse with need, especially as he'd watched the two halves of her gown and undergarment slide off her form. Tantalizing as gravity naturally revealed the parts of her he'd desperately longed to see. The slow tumbling of her crimson gown sliding to reveal one full plump breast and then the other. The soft showing of her bare swollen belly, her shapely thighs still parted directly below. With her warm brown skin still glowing in the sunlight, Aemond was sure he'd never seen such a perfect image. 

With Rhaena leaning back on her elbows, her long silver twists streaming down her back...she was waiting for him. Her pale lilac eyes were calling to him, silently beckoning him to take her as she wished. 

Surely she knew how dangerous her gaze was. 

Surely, she could see what it did to him...what she did to him. 

Leaning over her, he reached to place his dagger down upon their bedside table. Freeing his hand to glide along the soft dip of her bare waist. Though he wouldn't climb over her, not yet, he couldn't resist the opportunity laid at his feet. Instead, he reached for her cheek, "you want me to answer your question?"

Rhaena eyed him heatedly, nodding sharply.

"Hmmm, then you'll have to play your game to get it," Aemond rasped, purposely aiming a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth. With a cocky little flick of his tongue, he began to lower himself once again. Quietly kicking himself for leaving his breeches on as he did so, but he could wait no longer. Pressing warm sloppy kisses down in a streak along her body, his hair falling against her, tickling her as he trailed between her perfect mounds and the rounded bump of her belly. 

While Aemond's complete and utter focus had shifted, Rhaena's body had begun to melt against his touch. Though her focus remained the same, "and what game would that be? The one where you spread my legs and get exactly what you've come for." 

He'd chuckled darkly at that, now kneeling before her, placing his hands upon her smooth knees. The delicate yet familiar motion of spreading her legs to suit his hungered urges as he glanced up at her, "quid pro quo...a fair trade...is that not what you call it? When you ride me senseless, take my cock however I wish to give it to you. You ease my every sense, all to receive whatever goal you'd been after that day." 

Rhaena's fingers danced upon her thighs, her lips folding in a charming little guilty expression, "you say that as if I use you." 

"Tis your favourite weapon to wield against me, is it not," Aemond grinned, his eye flickering down to the damp thatch of pale curls that laid above her pretty entrance, "it's exactly how you managed to gain a seat upon my council in the first place-" 

It was a feather light touch, his fingers spreading the soft folds of her there just as his thumb grazed against her sensitive little bud. Her legs shuddered instantly at his touch, her breath hitching in time with a little small quiver as she opened for him. She was already so slick, wet and wanting...the tender pink of her hidden flesh already calling to him.

"Aemond-" Rhaena gasped again, biting down hard upon her lower lip. 

He'd missed that sound, missed hearing all of the breathy moans he knew his wife to be capable of. All the sweet ways she could call his name when she so wished to. And, yes, he'd been granted a few much earlier in the morning...but he could be selfish at times. Hoarding the sound, the melodic melody of it. He wanted more...he always wanted more. 

Teasingly, Aemond continued to dab at her clit, softly rubbing the area with the pad of his thumb. Flashing a cunning smirk as he leaned his mouth close enough to blow hot air against her needy entrance, "what was that? Did you want me to stop?" 

Pettiness...he could never have enough.

"Mmmm, you're such a..." Rhaena groaned as she laid her head back, her hands combing through her twists as Aemond settled her legs over his shoulders. Her left calf sliding over his old burn scar upon his right shoulder, his one memorial from his battle at Rook’s Rest. The day the formidable Rhaenys Targaryen took both him and Vhagar on with Meleys at her side. Matching him blow for blow…nearly killing him with her immense dragon riding experience. As well as the worn battle tested Meleys. 

Aemond remembered that battle well…perhaps he regretted it more than the others. But in that fight he'd taken Meleys' dragon's fire just scarcely to the shoulder while managing to douse and dodge the worst of the onslaught. Only taking her down with the added aid of his brother and Sunfyre. 

A half victory, really. 

As were the majority of his dragon battles. 

Though in the end he had won it all. Rhaenys was dead, in her stead, he had that very woman's granddaughter here at his disposal. Legs splayed to him as he clearly felt the call of her body, as if gravity itself was guiding him there. He didn't wait for her, delving between the warmth of her plush thighs. Eagerly licking a streak along the length of her spread cunt, his tongue purposely lavishing the saccharine flavour of her. Drawing light airy mewls from her as her hands floundered down at her sides. Fingers padding the fur blanket beneath her before she opted to grip onto it instead. 

Her legs were squirming already, he'd barely even begun and Rhaena already seemed to be fighting the urge to squeeze her legs around him.

It was enough to cause his cock to throb dangerously within his breeches, his heart burning with a sense of pure desire. He felt greedy with it all, that aching irritation of his gave way to the pace of his tongue working her almost ferociously. Licking along her delicate folds, trailing his tongue around her apex, flicking the tip of his tongue against her there- 

There, Rhaena's hands finally reached for him. With a sharply pitched moan, she slid her fingers through his hair and tugged, "s-stop, wait...wait," 

In truth, he had no interest in stopping at all. 

Not when he could get her there, not when he was finally feasting on her just as he'd wished to. Besides, it wasn't as if he could see the expression on her face at this very moment. With his own fingers tightly squeezing the soft pudge of her inner thighs, from his angle kneeling before. Her later-term belly was truly blocking his view of her entirely, he could see the top slumped peaks of her breasts...but her facial expression in this moment would remain a mystery. 

And so if all he could do was judge her words based on the sound of her voice, the breathy needy call for him to wait or stop. Said with the blatant undertones of a woman who was in the midst of experiencing immense pleasure. 

Stop?

Hmmm...he thought not. 

Playfully, he grinned as he dipped the tip of his tongue into the sweet heat of her. Drenched in her syrupy wetness, the point of his nose nudging her clit in time with his ministrations. It was enough for her to cry out, whining his name even louder this time, "Aemond!" 

Perhaps he was toying with her, but he couldn't deny this...that he loved nothing more than this. Burrowing himself within her one way or another. 

"Aemond...mmm...I do not wish to play this game, I would rather the simple answers," she fussed against him, pulling his hair even harder... finally causing him to hiss with the strain. 

Aggravating little thing, could she not simply take his tongue with gratitude. 

With a huff, Aemond grinded his jaw slowly. He wanted a better position, one with more purchase and control over her body. So he feigned compliance, slipping his tongue from her in the slowest most agonizing way possible. Savouring the honeyed taste of her, happily relishing the bright gasping breath she took as he did. He chuckled to himself there, licking his lips as he slowly pulled himself from between her legs. Nearly climbing atop her, Aemond lowered himself over her, gazing into her eyes he murmured, "the game's already started, sweet girl. And you haven't given me anything yet. That’s no trade at all." 

With a sob, she surely felt his fingers reach below. Sliding between her wet folds, causing her to bite her lip as her brows furrowed, "oh! But you've already had a taste, that's good enough!" 

"Mmm," he smirked devilishly, nuzzling his nose against hers, "now now, little wife. You're only stalling, you know this game better than that. If you want pertinent information from me, you'll have to give me more than a simple taste," 

With a smooth slip of his fingers, he brought his damp index and middle fingers to his lips purposely sucking off her glistening arousal. The look in her eyes as they widened at the sight of it, eyeing him with a fixed almost hypnotized stare. 

As if she’d seen him do this very thing, the countless times she’d watched him pull his fingers from her delicate wetness before sucking the remnants with pure fervor. 

In a fluid motion, Aemond used that very same hand to caress her jaw, leading her lips up to his. Deepening their kiss with the dexterity of his tongue tangling with her own, feeling the instant access to her mouth as she tasted herself upon his tongue. As her hands slid along his shoulders, he parted from her briefly, humming against her lips, "settle up here... I'm not done with you yet." 

As he spoke, he guided her body further up along the bed. Pulling down the fur blanket, effectively unmaking the bed as Rhaena finally obeyed his commands. Eyeing him the entire time as she moved to shed the remnants of her gown and undergarments down to the floor before she laid herself closer to the head of the bed. Resting herself horizontally amongst the nest of pillows they had there. 

And for a moment he couldn't help the way his gaze had lingered on her form. Laid out and splayed to him...in truth the very image he'd been most keen to return to ever since he left her this morning. It felt as if he'd been away for ages, like a warrior kept from home....even though there was no battle to speak of and he'd made the blunderous choice to leave all by himself. But he had her now, and she looked the picture of perfection. Like a painting of old, the erotic sketches of a goddess. She quite literally had the form of an image he'd seen once before. Deep within the pages of an old text he'd read a few years back, the original writer's envisioned idea of the fertility Goddess, Meleys. 

What she might have looked like if she'd taken the form of a woman.

Beyond Rhaena's naturally curlier hair and refined beautiful features, the image seemed nearly exact in his mind. Down to his wife’s lovely deep skin tone, her splendid figure, those wide curving hips and thighs, laid so prettily upon their bed. With the impeccable abundance of her plump bosom, the intoxicating roundness of her swollen belly. The bright sun still spilling over her, the luminous shimmer of her silver hair, the way her pale lilac eyes shone like jewels. 

Everything about her was calling him to her like a siren…like a spell. 

If he'd subscribed to the ideals of The Seven as faithfully as he once did...all of this coveting would feel far more sinful. To carnally want a woman with child this badly...his woman, his wife…carrying his child. 

Such distinctions would not have mattered to The Mother, surely, it was all a sin in her eyes. Said to feel displeasure towards any such depravity no matter the specifics. Yet, it all mattered so little to Aemond now, when he was with her. He could do away with thoughts of the Faith in the presence of Rhaena Targaryen. She had a knack for clouding his mind, his judgement…to focusing on one end alone. 

And to his near wonderment, here she was finally beckoning him to come to her. 

"Come then, dear husband, let us play the game," Rhaena's eyes practically glowed, her lips twisting into a bright little smile. 

His siren's song.

Notes: LMAO that breeding kink is really FRONT and center, the lactation kink will be coming too!!

Chapter 5 is in the works, but I do still have to write it! I've plotted out the sequence of events...but estimatation for completion wise, idk. I'd really like to finish it this week. We shall see!

[vacantgodling]

#5: Forte Symphonia

From a young age you have quietly watched—as the world around you blossoms and changes, as a sturdy oak you never falter. When it came time for you to choose your destiny, you deterred from your father’s path in the spotlight, to find your place among the common folk—to see the world and all its hidden beauties. Yet, this wasn’t a terrible departure; your family has always wished you well, and it is that bond that has strengthened you from sapling to tree. Your eyes see the evil as you come into this new place, but you do not flee from it. Even if it should take the very sight you hold dear, ever as a tree, you weather.

“forte” means to play loudly. “symphonia” means symphony.

27, cis man (he/him), romance: yes, sex: yes, preference: likes both masculine and feminine

tall and lean, standing at 6’1”, with long dark black hair that reaches to his lower back. he has dark green eyes like the forest and always sports a bit of stubble. his cheekbones are very high; so sharp that it appears like they could cut you, but its offset by the soft curves of his smile. he has strong and pronounced back muscles from wielding a bow, and his fingers are long and elegant. 

RANGER, of the traditional sort (aka: mid-range bow and no fancy tricks). he was trained at pinella’s pass survivalist academy. forte received his first bow and inklings that being a ranger may be the way to go for him when he was young and began to feel the tug of chaos; enough to begin to sense when the temperamental river near his home city would flood. chaos intuition isn’t necessary to become a ranger, but it does help with hunting monsters in the labyrinth especially in the dense underbrush. he would consider himself very good at being average, though many would say he’s an incredibly skilled shot for being as young as he is.

forte is the strong and silent type; stoic, but its just because he’s an observant person. this is not to say that he’s a complete stick in the mud, nor that he’s offputting—far from it. he’s generous with his care and thoughts when someone asks him, he’s just never usually willing to offer it up first. he is quite confident in himself and well adjusted (especially compared to the rest of his team lmao) and he is level-headed, intelligent, and caring. he also values the bonds he makes more than anything else, so he is quite loyal as well.

forte is extremely close with his family, consisting of his mother soprano, father tenor, and his younger sister, melody. he writes to them regularly once he leaves home but he is glad for the distance as they can be unintentionally smothering. especially his father and sister. clear is the first person he meets at Easthollow and he finds that he’s easy to talk to and finds that he enjoys his company, though he does worry about the moments where clear seems standoffish. he also has no qualms about the rest of his team—san, he understands her plight of wanting to be recognized for their own abilities (which is in part why he left home and became a ranger in the first place—everyone assumed forte would become a bard like his father and he didn’t want to be tied to his legacy, as much as he loves him) and so he offers a listening ear and advice for her frustrations. piper he enjoys spending time with, though he definitely becomes a secondary reigner just behind saith and keevan. and deux, he thinks is sweet and kind, and he feels protective over her—in some aspects she reminds him of his own younger sister, but he won’t deny that in others he does feel a level of attraction. he’s very unaware of the “love angle” situation with him in the middle of it at least until he begins to put two and two together regarding both how clear and deux feel about him… and this leaves him in an interesting position. things kind of get decided for him in some ways before he can fully think about it.

[spyridonya]

Couples questions for the throuple! 2, 23, 25?

Thanks for sending Dujour! It got... long. ❤️❤️

1 -What, specifically, was the catalyst for their physical attraction (if applicable) to the other character? In other words, what in particular had them like “Oh, they’re…hot…” (I know you asked for 2, but so did Cassy! So I decided to do it this way...)

Kadira for…

Lann; he might not have seen her as the most beautiful person in the world at first sight, but she was striking. It was her weight more so than her infernal appearance. Being overweight is a luxury to mongrels and while not a particular turn on, it wasn’t a turn off. She was dirty, she was covered with blood, there wasn’t anything exceptional about her in that time or horror and stress. Besides, he had to deal with Wenduag’s revelation of working for demons and being a cannibal. 

The first time it struck Lann that Kadira was ‘hot’ was how well she cleaned up after the siege, her long hair cleaned and curled, and the dress she wore showed off her legs and the sway of her hips. He found himself staring too hard when she was announced as Knight Commander and merely dismissed it as admiration. 

Daeran: He found the wounded tiefling gorgeous the moment he saw her, wounds and all. However, Daeran saw so many gorgeous men and women, Kadira’s beauty passed him by until Blackwing Library where her pranks of the cultists saved the lives of the Storyteller and Crusaders. 

He realized how blue her eyes were, framed with dark and lush lashes. That gaze of mirth and joy haunted his fantasies and fueled his intrigue for her. 

Daeran for…

Lann: who claimed he was absolutely straight, could see that Daeran was a good looking man. Beautiful. Beautiful was a term he could use. Logically, he could say it was merely due to not being on the surface for a decade and a half. 

The thought didn’t bother him again until after the March for Drezen began, when he saw Daeran struggling with his shirt without a servant to dress him. Lann didn’t stop to help, but he stopped to make quips… and to notice the curve of Daeran’s rib cage to a lean waist and flared backside.  

Kadira: She recognized three things about Daeran Arendae: he was unspeakably rude in his perception, he was condescending to everyone, and he was beautiful. It took her a long time to find him ‘hot’ due to her demisexuality and he did very little in wanting her to get to know him until Liotr Hawkblade needed her to go to Daeran’s party.

Kadee grew to like Daeran, even if she was confused by his courting compared to how they interacted on the march, but she never saw him sexy until the Not Date. When his voice was soft and mellow, when his golden hair was wild and wavy, when he smiled with sincerity and the olive gold of his skin looked so pretty in the lamp lights. 

Lann for…

Daeran: The moment the mongrel marched in was the near exact moment Daeran decided he was hot. Conventionally handsome on one size and fantastic bone structure on the other, a muscular body that silly pauldun and bolero combo couldn’t hide, and an intense hazel and gold gaze. Sure, he’d mock Lann’s appearance, but it was sour grapes until the grapes suddenly became sweet. 

Kadira: liked Lann rather quickly and felt a kinship early on due to being socially on the bottom of the totem pole. She did get puzzled while he bemoaned about his appearance, finding nothing wrong about him, he was handsome on both sides. She liked him and it was apparent in her manners, though it didn’t click how attractive he was until … well. When she was on her knees during their duel and looking up at him, much to her deep embarrassment. 

23 - How comfortable are they talking about, and openly communicating during, sex? 

Daeran’s very good at talking about sex and communicating what he wants during sex. The trick is he doesn’t always check in what his partner wants, and this is simply due to selfishness. If someone voices what they want, he’ll listen and perform what they want, but rarely ask what they want beyond consent. Kadira becomes the exception because she shows him a vulnerability in admitting she’s a virgin before they have sex together. Lann has to figure out the hard way of communicating with Daeran, and it doesn’t help Lann doesn’t really know how to express his desires and wants.

Mongrels have pretty meager sex education beyond the basics, which has little to do with purity culture and more to do with ‘mind your business’. Lann doesn’t have the language at all and his interactions with Wenduag leave him with a lot of self doubt. He’s very giving as a lover and while he might feel a little foolish about being taught during the act itself, both his partners (eventually even Daeran) will tell him that learning about what a partner likes can’t be done by any other way effectively. 

Kadira knows the language of sexual communication but is also terrified of asking for what she wants because she feels she doesn’t deserve nice things. However, she asks her partners all the time for what they want, and is comfortable listening to them talk about sex and when asked, she’s quick to respond with what she wants. 

25- They accidentally hurt or upset their partner. What happened? How do they respond? What do they do to make their partner feel better?

Daeran is so used to hurting people in a calculated way, doing it by mistake surprises him. Very likely he said something that either of his partners were sensitive about and he’ll go to his Emotional Support Ex (Ramien) on what to do. Very likely, the Emotional Support Ex suggests he go and apologize and be mindful in the future. Daeran does that, and focuses on topics that he knows Lann or Kadira will like, even if said topics are (shudder) boring. 

Lann has hurt people by accident, and he’s done it often, and most times he doesn’t care. He’s honest and he will tell it like he sees it. However, seeing Kadira crumple up before she attempts to be stoic makes his heart break and seeing Daeran’s expression tighten makes his stomach knot. Lann goes to his acts of service routine to try and make up for hurting hem, usually hunting for a game they like or giving them a massage. 

Kadira is very cautious in trying not to hurt people. Hurting anyone by mistake is something she agonizes about. She’s quick to apologize, quick to give words of comfort and love, and quick to leave gifts or acts of service as well. Anything to prove she didn’t mean to hurt them. 

[malleux]

Here’s my info for our trade

Fire Emblem male matchup plz (any of the games is fine)

Gender: cis female

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: heterosexual ally

Zodiac: Capricorn

Appearance: 5’2 African American hourglass body (although I’m more top heavy if you know what i mean) black curly wavy hair blackish brown eyes chubby cheeks wears glasses sometimes (im far sighted so it’s usually when driving in class or at the theater)

Mbti: infj

Enneagram: 2w1

Personality: kind smart funny motherly responsible empathetic anxious emotional moody perfectionist helpful people pleaser caring compassionate nerdy curious protective polite respectful indecisive fearful nervous introvert shy awkward clumsy low self esteem low confidence (more pertaining to my talents or personality then my looks) sassy sarcastic (I’m mainly these things with people i feel comfortable with like friends or family) soft spoken cute (my friends think im cute because i can be pretty innocent plus I’m small physically)

Likes: animals books reading writing fantasy magic sci fi anime music video games friends alone time learning personality quizzes sweets and bread helping being a part of something bigger than myself

Dislikes: spiders loud sounds people who harm others people who don’t take others into consideration (like make insensitive jokes or don’t consider the comfort of others or are mean just cause they can) people i care about not caring for themselves (im a hypocrite on this i take care of everyone else but not me) not being listened to weird holes and patterns math and tests (I’m being tested for a math disability and i have test anxiety)

Love language:

Giving: acts of service gift giving and physical affection (if they’re ok with it)

Receiving: words of affirmation and physical affection (although i can be shy about it)

Extra: i pace a lot i sing when im alone i talk to myself im a picky eater (mainly with textures) i have a cat i have minor ehlers danalos (a hyper mobility disorder) but it doesn’t hurt me like it does my sisters i get abdominal migraines which is basically like a migraine but instead of headaches it’s nausea

Thank you

hi lovely! thank you for doing this! it’s been super fun. also, apologies if i get something wrong it’s been forever since i’ve played fe3h.

i match you with… ashe!

Ashe is genuinely one of the most caring and kind people you’d ever met. You met your first day at the monastery and accidentally tripped up the stairs going to the library. Ashe saw and immediately asked if you were okay, making sure you had no injuries and reassuring you if you were a little embarrassed.

You mentioned that you were new, and he offered to take you on a tour of the monastery. You’d already been given one by Seteth, but Goddess knows he was difficult to pay attention to, so you agreed. It was way more fun than studying, and Ashe’s company was a lot better than being alone in a new place.

You grew accustomed to having him by your side—whether it be in the Blue Lions classroom, the training arena, or the dining hall. You were inseparable.

Sure, the rest of the Lions were amazing company, but it just didn’t compare to Ashe.

You both kept the other Lions out of trouble, making sure they do their best in school and training as well as each other. Ashe uplifts you in every aspect of your life, whether it’s your academics, talents, training, or just being your best self. He’s genuinely your biggest supporter and this is still before you get together. Imagine how he is once you actually do.

Ashe is like, the sweetest boyfriend to exist. He wants to do almost everything for you just for the sake of taking care of you, but also respects your boundaries. No PDA or affection that is too much for you to handle. Keeps an eye out in case you do get shy, but thinks it’s super cute so he might do it on purpose here and there. Never too far, though.

It gets rough when Lonato dies, and even harder once the war begins. With Dimitri and the Professor’s return, the war becomes serious and your relationship is put under a lot of strain. There are stressful times and hard conversations about your lives on the line. But never once does he want to leave you or think that you’re not worth the added stress.

If anything, Ashe trains harder to be able to protect both him and you, even though he knows you’re fully capable of protecting yourself. You do the same, ready to risk your life to save him even though you promised him you wouldn’t.

Luckily for the both of you, it doesn’t come to that. The war is won, and it is time for peace.

You and Ashe find peace in Faerghus, where he takes over Lonato’s lordship and works closely with Dimitri and Byleth to rebuild Fodlan. You help him, supporting your now-fiancé to the best of your abilities.

Your life has been up and down since the day you met Ashe, but you wouldn’t change it for anything. Especially when you see the tears in his eyes as you walk down the isle, all of your former classmates and friends around you. Life is good.

[kitzenvoncatzen]

[This is a lot longer than I intended but I think it's cool.]

"Pink actually IS my favorite color!" I hear the voice of someone you'd think the armor was specifically designed for, which makes sense, it's magic. This was, as he called himself, including in all forms of signature, Candy. Maybe the suit was sweet or something. "I'm pretty sure the last wielder of the wand didn't have this massive helmet though. Or rockets." Very little would have to be added to the suit for it to be called a full on mech.

The battlefield looms before me, dusty, flat earth. The sky is too big. This place was made for a battle, I can tell. I kick the ground with one heel, and a small garden trowel emerges from the dust and flies into my hand, still vibrating from the impact. Not the weapon I would typically use, but this place at least seems to be playing fair.

"Who are we fighting against?" I shout, the wind loud, but not strong, "They didn't tell me much. I think I was a last minute choice."

"Skate." The reflection of the large man in pink shines off of my shovel.

"Isn't he, like, super weak compared to us both?" I remember seeing him only once, and it was when he had been clocked right in the face by a slightly well timed punch from a civilian. Not even someone with powers.

"Apparently, he only recently figured out the full extent of his powers, and that is the entire point of this match." A deep rumbling came under the dust was felt by both of us, and his armor actually started to clang together a bit. Despite this being my first ever match, I did remember someone describing this as being the beginning of it. The dust rose into a large cloud all around us.

"Welcome!! This match seems to be a special one, huh?" A loud voice cut through the deep rumbling, the voice of Ref, the host of the match. Her voice was honestly kinda annoying. This was the first time I had heard it like this. I see Candy shake his head in the corner of my vision. Clearly he thinks the same. "It appears that this is your first official match, isn't that right, Spadey?" She put a horrible emphasis on the nickname, which I probably wouldn't have even hated if it weren't for her.

"That is correct." I try to stay as neutral as possible. I have heard that she can actually put penalties into these games, so I don't want to risk it.

"Not your first game though, Candy. You better show him the works!" The sound of applause is heard through whatever kind of microphone she uses for this.

The dust begins to clear. The light begins to shine more evenly. Candy's armor glows in the light, and actually is painful to look directly at. I hadn't noticed I had been looking directly at it until he pointed towards the figure in the distance.

"I will distract him. Easy for me. You try to slow him down." Candy kicks the ground in a similar way to how I had to get my weapon, but this action launches him into the air. I struggle to take my eyes off of the brilliant sight. Did I see wings?

I twirl the trowel in my hand, then take off, not nearly as quickly as either of them, but just having the trowel helps enough. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with this small of a weapon, but I've done harder things in the past. I was confident that I could beat Skate, even if he did have some kind of new upgrade.

"This is a RIGGED FIGHT!" I hear Skate's voice quite close to me. The dust had picked back up, so the only thing I could see easily was the ground, and Candy still in the air. I do spot a blur of a shadow in the dust, though, and I try to track it. It isn't orbiting me, it seems to be moving quite randomly.

I line up a steady aim, holding my trowel like a throwing knife. The blur is moving along some line in my vision, at least. I throw it. It flies perfectly. It leaves my hand with a swish I may never replicate again. And it collides directly with the blur.

The crowd doesn't seem to notice anything. The applause from before, the audience, they seem to be focused on the literal eye candy of the show.

Not that I needed an audience to do the job. But this thought does make me hesitate for just barely too long. The blur is gone, the vague smudge in the dust.

"What are you doing here?" Skate says, his voice close to my ear. The trowel returns to my hand and I slash into the air, hitting nothing.

I feel just two fingers on my chin, I cannot see the source, but time slows as they twist my head to the side. I see a a small smudge of pink in the obscured sky before I hear a snap.

My first match is a loss, and I open my eyes slowly as if I had just woken up from a deep sleep. A table in the middle of the room has a glass of lemon water, and above each of the other contestant chairs is a large monitor, with both of their points of view on screen. Mine is black.

Naturally, my eyes are drawn to the screen above Skate, watching Candy from the ground as he does a motion that can only be described as a dance, with the magical sparkles and all. I hear cheering from the other side of the wall, as Candy produces a second machine gun, and attaches both of them to his arms, aimed directly at Skate.

I don't want to remember the next part, let alone describe it, but I will say that somehow, the bullets themselves were pinker before entering Skate's body than they were after. I know it was fake, just a weird simulation or alternate world or however it worked, but it was still painful to watch. This kind of stuff in movies doesn't seem as real as this image clearly was.

The crowd cheers wildly. Skate was very clearly correct. The audience only cared about Candy, and I'm not even sure very many of them even knew I was there, even with my introduction.

I grab a small spoon from my pocket and look at my reflection. I don't know what I'm looking for. I close my eyes.

[ GOD DAMN.

EVERY SINGLE TIME I DO ONE OF THESE THEY GET LONGER AND LONGER.

I DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW I DID IT. THIS ONE HAD A VERY MINIMAL STORY THAT I THOUGHT OF IMMEDIATELY AFTER READING THE PROMPT.

Probably because it is a part of something else. It's easier to make up smaller stories if you make them part of the same world.

This is, however, helping me flesh out what I think the general plot might be if I were to make this into an actual book. Which I probably will.

It was actually challenging to try to focus on the main inspiration behind the writing prompt, that being Candy. I don't think I did as good of a job as I could have in that regard, but this works well in the world it is made for.

Alright this whole thing is too long bye. ]

When you learned that you were teaming up with a magical girl, you expected a tiny preteen in a dress with sparkles. Not a 6’4 behemoth wearing bright pink body armor wielding a machine gun.

[tetsunabouquet]

I thought of the scenario could I please ask for a yandere Senri with kianna in this scenario he meets her as part of the night class

* in this scenario Subaru let her change schools*

And catches feelings for her but she avoids him since she doesn't know what he wants from her

And the rest is up to you

A/N: Because you loved my headcanons for your OC's so much, I decided to give you a one-shot this time! Sorry it took a while for this request, its been years since I've written from the perspective of a yandere character, so I had to get back into it.

Senri normally did not take too much interest in other girls, not even if they were new to Cross Academy, but Kianna was different. When she was introduced to the class, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of her demure beauty. If you asked Senri, she had a something delicate and serene, like a flower petal. Her scent was equally as intoxicating, and he could get high simply by catching a whiff of Kianna. He was famished for her blood in ways he couldn't describe with words. Barely having any presence, it was easy to lay around the dorm and keep an eye on her under the pretense he was asleep. He soaked up every conversation Kianna had that he could overhear, getting drunk on her sweet voice. Having her followed by a servant or a familiar wasn't that difficult either. Within this violence, chaos ridden world of vampires where peace was just a projected illusion by the most powerful, Senri wanted to make sure she was safe. He was thankful Subaru had already gotten rid of his other brothers. It would be a pain to kill them all himself. Make no mistake, if Subaru ever even did the slightest thing out of line, Senri would slice his head off but for now, Subaru was useful. His friends didn't pose a problem either, on the contrary, Rima befriending Kianna over their shared love for goth fashion only gave Senri even more excuses to get close with Kianna and be near her often. He was very irritated with the fact she avoided him whenever they hung out, but Senri would not give up so easily. Kianna also sat on the other side of Rima during class and whilst he somewhat envied Rima for sitting next to her it was easy to secretly glance at Kianna during class with his close proximity nonetheless. Senri was admittedly also guilty of planting some spy technology around Rima's room and a GPS tracker in her purse so he could keep tabs on her and Kianna whenever they went out shopping. He might feel a tad bit guilty over using his long-time friend in such manner, but all guilt was forgotten the second he thought of Kianna. Senri was an intoxicated fool in love and as much as he hated being compared to his father, it shouldn't be that surprising that he at least shared a trait with his father when it came to how obsessive they could be. Right now, Senri was accompanying Rima and Kianna to a fashion designer that was close to his mother back in her acting days. He tried to push down his irritation at Kianna for choosing to sit next to Rima instead of him but someday, she would fall for him, he was certain. Rima was trying her best not to gush as she chatted with Kianna about the skirt she had long wanted from the designer. Senri soaked in Kianna's responses like a human trying to sunbathe, wanting it to penetrate his every pore as if it could swallow her voice, her touch. Someday, he would have her all to himself, he just needed to play the game right. Thankyfully, Senri was not an impatient person and was willing to wait years for Kianna to notice him. He smiled at the girls and informed them they were near the designer's place as the car driver stopped. He got out of the car first to hold open the door for Kianna and Rima, appearing as the perfect gentleman. The girls each stepped out, and he gestured at them to follow him. He walked in the middle, relishing to be the only one walking next to Kianna, who was looking a tad bit uneasy. He refused to care, someday, she would be his and his alone. He would remain here, wrapping her around his finger with gestures to please her and give her as many gifts as he could until she realized there was no one as devoted as Senri to become her husband. Yes, Kianna was his.

[pyro-the-kin]

Lord Of The Rings - Aragorn

This one is still being updated, haven’t finished the books.

My canon appears to be a bit of a mix between both books and movies.

My appearance and abilities were mostly based on the books, however personality was more like the movies.

There was that time period between Bilbo’s disappearance and Frodo leaving, where I took my time to help Gandalf. I remember meeting with him, and hunting Gollum together. It was a sorry sight and I wanted more than once to push my sword into him but Gandalf stopped me.

In our travels I asked Gandalf many questions about himself and all the other wizards, but stopped doing so after seeing that he never answered my questions. Definitely knew he wasn't human nor elf, but what exactly?

I knew of Tom Bombadil, although I think I never met him personally but had seen him in the distance more than once, and he had recognised me even if leaving quickly singing about how we weren't to meet yet. I recognised him with the 4 hobbits, and knew immediately they were the hobbits Gandalf had spoken off.

Meeting the hobbits in the inn for the first time in person was chaotic, they really didn't act their part of staying low profile, especially when Frodo had to slip in the damned ring. Also disliked Pippin right there, the kid had a loose tongue.

I met Frodo first when I warned him that Pippin was talking way too much, and later when I found them in their rooms after the whole thing. They were really suspicious of me and I just tried to crack the atmosphere into friendliness. But the inn master showed up with Gandalf’s letter and put everybody more stressed.

Spent some time trying to herd the hobbits into behaving. When I gave them weapons, Merry and Pippin thought it would be a good idea to have a duel right there. I had to stop them.

Even after so many days of travel, was still amazed at how much the hobbits ate. During the harsher trips they seemed able to reduce their intake but even then to levels compared to men. But when they had the possibility for a good meal, goddamn they devoured everything.

Of the hobbits, my favourite was Sam without a doubt. Always so respectful and helpful, offering a hand anytime. Merry and Pippin were very troublesome, but I had to give them props for their creativity and "thinking outside the box".

Legolas and Gimli did indeed get into little fights, and I usually let them enjoying the fun. But had to stop things from going too far more than once.

What I most thought interesting with Gandalf was how in his infinite wisdom, experience and age, he still was so tender and sweet, especially with the hobbits. He would make sure the hobbits were taking it well, and take his time to advise Frodo. However still screamed at them when they would do stupid things.

The first time I met Elrond, I feared him so much. Later, when I showed my intentions with Arwen he seemed disapproving, but he would always carry that same look with the years, leaving me to believe it was just his regular expression. I think he understood how I was completely in love with Arwen, and she replied the feelings back. Would get quite dreamy, just looking at her with a smile on my lips.