ortopriamo

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

i am living for some angst 👀

especially some satoru angst

Hold me. Console me.

Tags: Satoru x fem!Reader, angst, hurt/comfort, depictions of poor mental health, depiction of a panic attack, Satoru’s a little bit of an asshole here.

An: Same… same. Before you read this and blame me for how fucked this story is, know that one of my moots (cough. cough. @theuniversesnepobaby cough.) was sending me sad angsty edits last night. this is partially her fault too.

Satoru was normally a very doting and attentive boyfriend. He’s the type to beg to be in your presence. He’d kill to feel your touch against his skin. “Casual” isn’t a word in his dictionary. When he loves, he loves loudly.

So when he got quiet with his love, your body started to fill with a sense of dread. Cold and bitter feelings crawled their way between you two. No longer did you two laugh until you were out of breath and red in the face. No longer did he surprise you with gifts or try to scare you when you’re unaware of his presence.

His strong arms hadn’t wrapped around you in so long. The ruthless chill of being utterly alone plagued you, while Satoru seemed fine. He was even taking on extra hours at his job. So many nights he didn’t come back until nearly midnight.

How could he not see what’s happening? How could he not notice how much you’re drowning?

“I’m going out.” His words are flat with no care put into them. He’s telling you because he feels as if it’s obligatory — not because he doesn’t want you to worry.

“Where are you going?” So many times have you tried to reach out. It was as if you two were passing back and forth a candle of your relationship. You had ignited the flame and passed it to him so many times, but each time, he snuffs it out without a second thought — leaving you in the dark. Maybe one more time, you metaphorically light the candle in hopes to kinder your relationship…

“Out.” Flame snuffed.

“Oh.” He’s done it so many times, but it hurts just as bad each and every time. Being single wouldn’t hurt this bad. At least you wouldn’t be getting rejected by your own boyfriend on a daily basis.

“See ya.” He doesn’t even give you a second glance as he grabs his coat and saunters out the door. Another night spent alone. Another night filled with a barely eaten tv dinner and a shitty reality tv show droning on in the back while you doomscroll on your phone.

You two use to watch these reality tv shows together and laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Satoru would hold you so close to his body, and he’d whine anytime you tried to adjust. When was the last time that happened? You never suspected the end of affectionate gestures would come while you two were still in a relationship.

You check Geto’s story on instagram. Sometimes, you’d catch small glimpses of Satoru in the back. Sometimes they were at a cafe or an arcade together. Tonight, it seemed as though Suguru was at very packed party scene.

You hold your breath in your lungs as you rewatch the story again and again — searching for a white head of hair. Your boyfriend makes it too easy for you to stalk him. Though, it feels like a fitting punishment for the turmoil he’s put you through.

No Satoru in sight. You sigh quietly before you check Shoko’s story. It was less likely that Satoru would be captured there, but he has made his appearances in the past. It seemed like tonight Shoko wasn’t present at whatever rager Suguru was at. She posted a picture of her beautifully written notes. She must be studying.

Nanami never posts on his story, so you don’t even bother going to check his barren profile. Haibara never features Satoru in his stories, so you skip his as well. This leaves you with one last option.

Your hand is a little shaky as you click on Utahime’s story. You don’t know when it started, but your cheeks and ears were wet with tears already. Your body had some sort of sick sixth sense for knowing when something was wrong, and something was terribly wrong.

You had always had your little insecurities about Utahime ever since Satoru indulged that he had a small crush on her back in high school. Of course, these were just fleeting thoughts. Up until recently, you knew with full confidence that you had Satoru’s heart. He wouldn’t stray from you. 

You didn’t have that same confidence anymore. Satoru had withdrawn, and it seemed as if he took his heart with him.

You hate being right. You wish you were wrong sometimes. On Utahime’s story, she’s seemingly at the same party that Suguru’s at. Her story is littered with pictures of her with other girls that you don’t recognize, videos of the loud music and people dancing in a crowd, and there’s just one last video on her story that makes your heart sink to your stomach.

Your boyfriend’s pretty blue eyes illuminated by the flash from her back camera. He smiled and laughed as Utahime filmed him. His face was littered with wine red lipstick kiss marks. Utahime had a grab on your boyfriend’s collar, obviously trying to hold his drunk self still while she filmed his crime.

It felt like a punch straight to your gut. You couldn’t even think straight, but you knew you needed to keep this evidence in case she deletes it. Your fingers shakily screenshot the story, logging the picture of Satoru covered in someone else’s affections.

He was out there feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness, receiving kisses from another, dancing to his heart’s content, and enjoying his life while you were sat at home weeping over the loss of your boyfriend.

The tv dinner, now cold and stale, was thrown into the garbage, and whatever little bit you had eaten came up soon after.

The picture was seared into your memory. You didn’t have to look at it to know every minor detail. The way his white hair was messy. His glasses were pulled down ever so slightly to reveal his devastatingly beautiful eyes. His coat hung on his shoulders while his muscular neck peaked out from his shirt.

Every time you closed your eyes, you thought about how many kiss marks he had on his face. How many times had he allowed himself to cheat on you? Was this the first time? Had it gone farther than this? Was it Utahime or some other girl?

You cried yourself to sleep, knowing that Satoru wouldn’t even come home to try to console you.

The next morning, you were disappointed as soon as you woke up. You wished sleep would’ve taken your body and whisked it away far, far from here. Instead, you’re still in your bed, sleeping on a pillow that was stained from your mascara.

If you could, you’d rot in bed all day and try to forget the godforsaken video you saw last night, but you had to make a trip to the restroom.

Forcing your weak body out of bed, you let out a small pained moan. You haven’t eaten a proper meal in so long, and you threw up whatever you did eat yesterday. Your appetite was completely diminished. Satoru use to say that food tasted better when it was shared. He always shared his meals with you, unbeknownst to him, helping you maintain a good schedule for eating.

Your apartment was too bright when you stepped out of the bathroom, and it smelled too much of food. The sizzling on the stove finally caught your drowsy attention.

The man of the hour, Satoru, was at your stove, shirtless and cooking something. Sleeping pants casually hung around his hips, and the dimples at the bottom of his back were so graciously being shown off. Did someone else know about those two little dimples? Even though back was facing you, you could already picture his face, littered with those stupid kiss marks.

Making a b-line for the bathroom, Satoru doesn’t even get the chance to greet you. Your hands were cold and clammy as your body uncontrollably heaved over the toilet. You had nothing left to give, but Satoru was taking everything from you.

Hot tears burned your cheeks as they slipped down your face. You didn’t want to do this. You wished you would’ve never saw that fucking video last night. You should’ve given yourself plausible deniability, but now, you had to face the music.

You slowly returned back to the kitchen after trying your best to clean yourself up. Your eyes focused on Satoru. He was finishing up cooking bacon when his eyes finally met yours and drove daggers through your heart.

“Good morning, sweetness. Something wrong?” He asks with so much care in his tone. You fantasize about hitting him — just once. How dare he suddenly care when you have to check out?

You don’t even know what to say to him. Like, yes, something is clearly fucking wrong, Satoru. I’m dating an unfaithful jerk.

“What are you doing here?” You ask bluntly, wiping your face of the remnants of tears and makeup that had stained your skin. He shouldn’t be allowed to see how badly he hurt you.

“I… live here?” He responds in a questioning tone, furrowing his white eyebrows as he studies your face. “Are you okay?” If only he had asked that question weeks ago, then maybe you two wouldn’t be in this mess today.

“No, and you don’t live here anymore.” You snap, causing him to slightly flinch back — not out of fear but out of surprise. He’s never seen you like this before.

“What do you mean, sweetness? I-“

“Cut the shit, Gojo. Don’t act stupid with me. It’s unbecoming.” You interrupt him completely, not wanting to hear him try to act innocent when you have all the proof you need on your phone.

“Woah. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I don’t really appreciate the insult and the use of my government name. I genuinely have no idea of what you’re talking about.” His voice is firm, laced with sternness, so you can see that he’s not playing around with you.

You take a deep breath until your lungs burn. You want to scream at him, chase him out of the house, and light his shit on fire. Instead, you silently go to retrieve your phone. Pulling up the picture of him with kiss marks all over his face, you shove the screen in his direction.

Gojo takes a few seconds to take in the photo, and he lets his shoulders drop. “This is what you’re mad over, sweetness?” He asks in a much more calm tone, looking up at you with almost puppy dog eyes.

“Don’t call me that.” You snap while swiping your phone back from his hands. “I didn’t think I’d have to spell it out for you, but we’re fucking done.”

“You seriously believe that I would cheat on you?” He asks in that stupid arrogant tone of his, completely ignoring your blunt rejection.

“Why else would your high school crush post a picture of you with kiss marks all over your face!? You look so fucking dumb and in love. I fucking-“ Your throat chokes up as if your body was trying to stop you from saying something you didn’t mean. The words “I fucking hate you” die right there on your lips. Tears fall down your cheeks, and you place your palms over your eyes to hide yourself from his impregnable gaze.

“This, again?” He asks in a frustrated tone before letting out an exasperated sigh, He turns the stove off - abandoning his food before walking over to you. He bends his knees a bit to get on your level. “Look at me.” He demands before his hands go to pull yours away from your eyes.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You cry out, jerking back away from his presence. Your breath speeds up. The oxygen isn’t having enough time to enter your bloodstream. Your body is vibrating, forcing the air quickly from your lungs. Everything is moving so fast and why the fuck is he so close to you-? He’s suffocating. Fuck, catch your breath. Whyhim?Whyyou?Why?Why?Whatdidyoudotodeservethis???

A gush of air is blown harshly onto your face, and you can feel the bitter cold feeling of something touching your skin. Your eyes see Satoru’s hand holding an ice cube, guiding it along your warm skin on your arm. Your body is so hot that it’s melting faster than he’s moving it.

“Breathe. Match my movements.” Satoru guides in a calm yet steady tone. Your eyes find the way his chest is slowly rising and falling with each breath. You want to tell him to go play in traffic. You don’t need him to ground you. You don’t need him to do anything for you. You don’t need him.

Still, your body matches his slowly. Your breath becomes more stable, and you can feel your heart starting to settle into a more natural rhythm. Your bleary eyes meet his empathetic ones. It’s been so long since your last panic attack, but he remembers just how to calm you down.

It only makes it all hurt so much worse.

“It’s almost over. You’re doing a good job.” He takes his chances at encouraging you. It feels so sickening, more tears flee your eyes. Where had your boyfriend been, and why is he only just now back after he did the unthinkable?

“Sing with me.” It’s an odd request, but it’s something he found that grounds you better than most grounding techniques. Saying repeatable phrases in melodic tone is comforting for your mind.

“No.”

“Come on… Just one time. Your favorite.” He tries again. Metaphorically, lighting the candle and passing it back to you.

You shake your head in response. Flame snuffed. How can you sing with him after what he did to you?

“Come on, don't leave me it can't be that easy, babe” He starts with such a soft angelic voice. You fold in on yourself unable to keep the sob from escaping your throat. What method of torture is this??

“If you believe me I guess I'll get on a plane. Fly to your city excited to see your face.” He continues, lighting that same candle. It’s so small, barely there anymore from how many times you two have tried to relight it.

“Hold me, console me and then I leave without a trace.” The ice cube has completely melted, and his hand is resting on your arm. He slowly guides you to his chest, and you indulge in his warm embrace for just one last time.

“Come on, don't leave me it can't be that easy, babe.” His chin rests on top of your head. You’ve always fit so well in his arms. He’d always tell you that whatever higher power is out there made you specifically with him in mind.

“If you believe me I guess I'll get on a plane. Fly to your city excited to see your face.” His skin is so warm against yours, and your tears are sticking to your chest.

“Hold me, console me and then I leave without a trace.” You finally indulge him, softly joining in on his singing. His body slowly starts to guide you two into a soft subtle sway.

“Come on, don't leave me it can't be that easy, babe.” It’s not that easy. This fucking hurts so bad. Why would your soulmate do this to you?

“If you believe me I guess I'll get on a plane. Fly to your city excited to see your face.” You feel so pathetic — seeking out comfort from the one who hurt you this bad. If your friend could see you right now, she’d slap some sense into you.

“Hold me, console me and then I leave without a trace.”

You’re sniffling softly into his chest, and his hand carefully pets your hair. “Those kiss marks weren’t from Utahime.” He explains in a soft tone. “We were filming a TikTok. The punchline of the joke was that Suguru and Haibara were the ones who kissed all over my face.”

You look up at him with an unsure look on your face, not understanding what he meant. Satoru carefully picks your phone up, and he clicks on Haibara’s Instagram story from last night.

Sure enough, Haibara posted a TikTok of him, Suguru, Satoru, and Utahime. The camera points at Satoru, showing the kiss marks on his face, and the sound plays. “Bro, what happened to your face? Did you do that?” The camera then pans to Utahime to which she mouths the words, “I did not do that.” The camera then pans to Haibara with smeared wine red lipstick on his lips who says, “Then, who did?” The camera is then panned towards Suguru. He also had wine red lipstick smeared on his lips. “Yeah, who?” The two boys start laughing along with Satoru, and the video cuts.

It only comforts your weary heart slightly.

“It was just a stupid TikTok… I should’ve consulted you or warned you… done anything to respect you.”

“This doesn’t take back how awfully cold you’ve been over the last few weeks…” You sniffle out quietly, and Satoru nods his head knowingly.

“I know, sweetness.. I know. I’ve been terrible.” His arms squeeze you a bit tighter — frightened that he was so close to loosing you, still scared of losing you.

“That’s not an apology… or even a reason.” You try to squirm from his grip, but Satoru holds you tighter.

“I’m so fucking sorry, sweetness.” He breathes out a shaky breath, and you realize the shakiness in his voice. Glancing up at him, you feel yourself clam up with the sight of tears in his eyes. Christ, his eyes are somehow even more blue when he cries. “Shit got crazy at work then-“

“You still had time to party it up with your friends. You left me without even telling me you love me.” You finally break away from his grasp. The cheating accusation was only the surface of the main problem.

“You know I love you…” His voice is small, and he wipes his eyes of the tears that are threatening to spill.

“Do I know that?”

“Don’t… don’t say that.. I love you more than life itself.” His shaky hands go to reach for you again, but you move back away from him.

“You’re only doing this because I’m leaving you. If I hadn’t mentioned it, you’d probably still be half assed ignoring me.” You stare at him, and your eyes start to water for the nth time today.

“That’s not…” Satoru bites his tongue, and he runs a hand through his messy white hair. “I came home this morning… saw the uneaten tv dinner in the trash… Your reality tv show was still playing in the background, and I saw how you fell asleep with your makeup messed up… I realized then how much I neglected you… I planned a full day for us to enjoy each other’s presence… Please, don’t leave me for this. I can fix this.”

“How did it feel to look at me everyday when I tried so fucking hard to reach you?”

“It killed me.” He breathes out, and he tries to reach for you again. “Please, I missed you so much. Work was just so fucking much, and I don’t know why I took that out on you.”

You stare at him, and you shake your head silently. “You should go, Gojo..” Your voice cracked as it physically pained you to tell him to leave. Your body craves him more than anything else in the world right now.

“No, please, princess. Don’t do this… I can fix this. I’ll do whatever it takes… just don’t leave me…” Satoru’s on his knees, literally begging you not to leave him. Tears are falling down his cheeks as he bows his head to you.

It’s humiliating, but he’s so humiliatingly in love with you. He’s so dead serious. He’d do anything for you to stay with him.

“Toru..”

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I-I don’t know why I did it. I just pulled away from you, and I don’t know how it happened. You’re the best damn thing that’s ever happened t-to me. Please. I can’t function without you.”

You stare at your boyfriend with concern as his head literally touches the floor beneath him. You don’t even know what to say to him. The thought of leaving him hurts so fucking bad. It steals the breath from your lungs.

“Please don’t leave me… puh…. please stay with me.” He’s groveling at your feet, unable to stop the tears that escape his eyes. The thought of living in a world where you aren’t his girlfriend… he wouldn’t. He’d be a shell of who he once was. He’s nothing without you.

You slowly sit on the floor in front of him, and your hands stroke his soft hair gently. Satoru’s breath slows as he finally gets a grip on his emotions. He realizes just how pathetic he looks. He slowly leans up, and he looks at you. Both of you looked like complete messes, and it was all his fault.

“I don’t deserve you,” He murmurs quietly. “but please, I can make this better… I love you so much, sweetness… I wouldn’t dream of ever cheating on you.”

“I don’t forgive you.” Your voice is barely a whisper. The metaphorical flame is so small and shaky, but if you two both shield it from the wind, it’ll be able to grow once more. “You have a lot to prove me, Toru.”

“I’ll spend every waking minute of my life fixing this. I promise you, sweets.”

and he did. Satoru went back to loving you loudly. He didn’t merely shield the flame from being blown out, he fanned it himself so it grew in intensity. He was back to doting on you constantly, and he did frequent check-ins to make sure you weren’t feeling neglected. He took frequent vacations from work with you. He usually took you two out on holidays to wherever your heart desired, but sometimes you two would use his vacation time to just lounge around the house and enjoy each other’s presence.

Your confidence slowly returned to you over time. It wasn’t easy by any means. It took many nights of Satoru’s consistent reassurance and overwhelming love and support for you to slowly start feeling comfortable in your relationship with him.

He put in the work, nourished your flame, and he never made you feel guilty for having a second thought because when he loves, he loves deeply. Casual is not his strong suit.

[i-smoke-chapstick]

saw that you're in your got era so perhaps jealousy headcanons for the got or hotd characters? 👀 literally anyone from these characters - robb, jaime, margaery, oberyn, theon, cersei or ramsay, I'd love to see your interpretation on any of them ! ( or aemond, alicent, aegon, gwayne, OTTO !!, larys, daemon or mysaria for hotd, again whichever era you feel like it !!) and just for future reference, do you write for asoiaf characters or mainly the shows?

'LOVE CAN KILL, [jealousy! hcs]

-GOT / HOTD CHARACTERS X READER-

⋆ Characters ↬ Robb, Jaime, Margaery, Oberyn, Cersei, Joffrey, Ramsay, Tyrion, The Hound, Aemond, Aegon, Alicent, Gwayne, Daemon

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; jealousy, and how some characters deal with it ;)

⋆ tags/warnings. GOT and HOTD!characters x female reader. SFW! But naturally, some of these characters get a bit suggestive! Possessive behavior, canon typical violence, etc. Please send in more GOT/HOTD requests! Apologies this took so long, this is more characters in a post than I've ever done lol. Unfortunately I'm not super familiar with Otto, Larys, Theon, or Mysaria, so I decided to pick some characters I'm more familiar with! (Joffrey is my #1 favorite of all time, my sincerest apologies.) Whew, 14 characters ! For right now I'm only writing for the TV shows! (i've only read book 1, lol)

𝑅𝛰𝐵𝐵 𝑆𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐾

♫ “I wasn't thinking when I told you to stay.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

With Robb, it's all about the body language. And boy, he's horrible at hiding it.

He can have a hard time placing the feeling as jealousy. He was raised to be honorable. But feelings of...neglect run deep with him. Oldest child syndrome, if you will.

Which is why his jealousy most likely manifests in subdued, quiet behavior. Part of him will recognize he's being ridiculous, while another part of him is silently fuming. Fists clenched, he'll send you an intense stare as he watches you converse with another lord.

His emotions leak through his expressions. When he catches you staring back, his gaze will flit down, and he'll wait patiently for you're time. Or...in most cases...he'll march right up, placing himself between you and the man. Maybe a small, "I'll take it from here." If the lord is offering to help you with something.

A subtle touch on the small of your back. It's a small claim, a subtle "back-off."

A lot of his jealousy also transforms into protectiveness more than anything. He'll offer to accompany reader to places he wouldn't normally be concerned about. He's close by, and he's reminding her wordlessly, he's watching over her and any threat.

Finally, when you two are alone, will he drop down that guard of his. Covering up that burning pit inside him with casual humor, you can sense the underlaying seriousness of his voice in his light teases.

"You’re quite popular these days. Should I be worried that I’m not your only admirer?"

He certainly beds you, having something to prove. And only afterwards when you are in his arms, sweaty and warm from the candlelight, wrapped in furs...will he calm down.

"It’s not that I don’t trust you… It’s them I don’t trust. Some men don’t know how to keep their place." He'll whisper, holding onto you firmly.

𝐽𝐴𝐼𝑀𝐸 𝐿𝐴𝑁𝑁𝐼𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅

♫ “You don't know that you're in over your head.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Jaime's jealousy is burning. It's simply the way he was raised. And gods, you are his.

Numerous sarcastic remarks flow between the two of you and the man who he believes has essentially stolen your affections. His taunts are offhand, dry remarks, often directed towards his "opponent" or even you, if he's feeling bitter enough.

"I didn’t realize he was such a comedian. Maybe I should ask him for pointers." He'll say, with that sarcastic drawl. "If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to make me jealous. Not that it would work, of course." He chuckles, but his gaze is sharp.

Depending on the offense, Jaime's reactions differ. If you simply have an admirer, a few...well chosen words are directed towards them. His confidence allows him to not be too bothered. Maybe standing closer, clearly showing off to whatever poor soul thought they had a shot with you.

It's a different story if you are friends with the person involved, or entertain their advances even mildly or jokingly.

That's when the uncharacteristic tension comes out, full of small twitches in his jaw and curt, smug responses. His visible annoyance is uncontrolled.

We saw how he was with Loras when it came to Cersei. If he feels truly threatened, whether it's by another pretty boy, or just someone he feels could...hypothetically...have the upper hand...He'll corner them when you're off somewhere else. And give a small warning, from the Kingslayer himself.

"You seem to have forgotten who you're dealing with, so let me remind you." He leans in just close enough for his words to sink in. "Whatever you think you might be to her… you’re not. Let’s keep it that way, hm? I'd hate to see you make any...lasting mistakes."

𝑀𝐴𝑅𝐺𝐴𝐸𝑅𝑌 𝑇𝑌𝑅𝐸𝐿𝐿

♫ “It was just too hard to push you away.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Margaery is smart with her feelings. She knows how to play the game, and play it well. Instead of showing her jealousy openly, she's a touch more composed than most characters on this list.

She recognizes just how precious you are, and admires that. She doesn't necessarily blame others when they become...attached to you.

When jealousy arises, she views it more as a small problem in need of being handled. And she knows how to handle things.

She embraces the graceful competition, subtly outshining anyone who seems to get in the way of her goals. Her goal being you're affection, of course. You're already hers, and she sees no problem in working to keep it that way.

This appears in gestures of strategic sweetness to keep you close, perhaps wearing your favorite gowns on her, and offering that charming smirk. She doesn't shy away from manipulating you, just a teeny bit.

"They’re certainly captivated by you. I suppose I’ll have to work harder to keep your attention." She teases, "Besides, who could ever compare to us?"

Her words carry a playful undertone, but she makes her point clear. Laughing charmingly, threading her arm through yours.

Very rarely does she think she's in any serious danger. She prides herself on being yours and knowing how to keep you on a tight leash. Though...if she feels genuinely worried, she expresses her feelings quite clearly but still gently. She reminds her lover of their shared goals, and all that they've built together.

"My, you do attract admirers easily, don’t you? I’ll have to start guarding you more closely." She gives you a playful look, though her touch on your arm will linger just a bit longer than usual.

𝛰𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑌𝑁 𝑀𝐴𝑅𝑇𝐸𝐿𝐿

♫ “Let me go, but you won't let me go.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Oberyn doesn't feel insecure. How could he? He knows, deep down, that you're his. Jealousy isn't something he confines himself too, he views it as an ugly emotion, capable of getting rid of the true wonders love has to offer.

That being said...he is only a man. And he is fiercely protective. If anyone were to flirt with you and you were clearly uninterested, it would be a swift death, or at the very least, he'd make his point clear with a blow or two and a cutting edge remark. Especially if they are a Lannister. He enjoys you being admired, but only to a certain extent.

"Your efforts are wasted, they’re far too captivating for someone like you. I’d suggest you find someone more... suited to your charms." He begins, hand itching for his spear, "Consider this your first and last warning."

Yeah, he means business.

Most of the time, he spins the situation to show-off. Showcase his own passion and devotion to you. If it's simply a friend of yours, he may even offer them to join in. If not, he'll spend the entire night practically worshipping you, promising that he's the only one who could ever make you feel like this.

Similarly to Margaery, he teases you lightly.

"You have a lovely laugh. But I must admit, it’s much better when it’s for me alone."

Oberyn doesn't shy away from PDA either. It's that assertive reclaiming he seems to favor, pulling you close, whispering something that affirms your affections for each other. He'll revel when he watches the other mans face fall in dismay.

He might get cocky, and push it a bit far. By the time he's done, the 'competition' will be utterly humiliated and embarrassed. He'll be smirking at his own quips.

"I assure you, my friend, my lover favors...more substantial things." He motions to the poor mans crotch.

You're gonna have to give him a slap on the arm.

𝐶𝐸𝑅𝑆𝐸𝐼 𝐿𝐴𝑁𝑁𝐼𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅

♫ “Consequence of loving me can be cruel.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Cersei's jealousy is intense and multifaceted, to say the least. It manifests in a mix of cold fury and harsh threats, channeling that anger into much more controlling behavior.

Deep down, she is terribly insecure. Once another man or woman as your attention, and she catches on, she's coolly lashing out. And she catches on quickly.

At first she may appear indifferent, but if you look close enough, you can see the subtly giveaways. The way her lip curls, her nostrils flare, and her knuckles go white gripping her wine chalice.

If you're the first one to confront her, and attempt to reassure her, you'll save yourself some trouble down the line. Guaranteed, she'll deny it, but still make a passive-aggressive remark here and there. But eventually she'll calm down, edges softening.

That rare moment of vulnerability that you're not sure is manipulation or not. She'll look towards the ground, running her thumb over you're hand on her cheek. She'll sit on the edge of her bed, jaw clenched.

Now, it's a whole different story if you don't catch on to the early signs. If you don't manage to reassure or call her out in time, that jealousy implodes.

She may confront you first, anger bleeding through her. She runs on it. She may even threaten you, oblivious to the potential consequences her words might have.

“You think you can charm your way into my affections by paying attention to that little fool?" She's standing up, loathing distorting her features. Her voice raises. "Perhaps I should throw a feast in her honor. Let’s see how charming she is when surrounded by my people."

It's threats and threats and more and more threats...which can be especially worrying if the person she's jealous of is a friend of yours.

Almost every scenario ends with you having to comfort her, treading carefully with the words you say.

Now, when it comes to confronting the competition, she makes it very clear. Though, these threats are often much more impulsive. A swig of wine, and she gracefully moves towards them when you're out of sight.

A faux compliment or two, before she whispers, close.

“You’ll find that my guards are quite loyal to me. A simple command, and they’ll ensure you never breathe the same air as her again.”

It only makes her feel a bit better. But, regardless, she's smiling smugly, feeling proud of herself when the offenders face turns white.

𝐽𝛰𝐹𝐹𝑅𝐸𝑌 𝐵𝐴𝑅𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐸𝛰𝑁

♫ “Too much love can kill.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Oh, Joffrey. I'm obsessed with him.

Yeah. He has the worst jealousy issues out of everyone on this list. It's baaaaad. It's a cocktail of insecurity, possessiveness, and entitlement. As someone who has been raised to believe he is above others, and has been coddled his entire life...it infuriates him.

It's the same feeling you get as a child, when someone steals one of your toys. You belong to him. He never grew out of that mentality, or that feeling.

Be prepared for plentiful outbursts of anger. He's a tantrum personified, especially if he feels disrespected. Insecurity grips him tight and refuses to let up until he's either been heavily reassured...or the other person is... taken care of.

And even then, after reassuring him for hours, it may not be enough. You know how he hired a knight to take out Tyrion in the Battle of Blackwater? Yeah. That person will be paid a little 'visit.'

When reassuring him, similar to Cersei, you really have to be careful what you say, or it might make the situation even worse. At that point, he's seeing red.

"I’m the king! You should be grateful for my attention, not chasing after scraps!" He's huffing, pointing to himself as his breathing increases. He'll look at you with an ice cold glare, nose wrinkled in distaste.

He might even force his hand around your face, harshly grabbing you. He looks dead into your eyes, voice clear and low. "You're mine. You belong to me." He's seething.

If he notices you simply looking at anyone else too long, he'll feel beyond threatened in both his masculinity and position as king. Especially if you laugh at another mans jokes, or simply attempt to be friendly with a commoner or lord.

"What’s so amusing? You’d think you’d find better entertainment than that fool." He mutters under his breath harshly, bad habit of picking at his fingers. He'll shuffle uncomfortably. He'll look to you expecting agreeance. It's 100% that mentality of 'Friends? You don't need friends. You have me.'

Yeah, he keeps the very blunt insults coming. Petulant name calling is not above him. Includes, but is not limited too, "Degenerates, Idiots, Commoners, Peasants, or Cretins" which he may describe as being "Stupid, Disgusting, Repellent, Sickening, or Revolting." He's got a LOT of those angry remarks in the bank.

While he may not directly confront the offender, (he doesn't have time for idle threats.) He has his own ways of dealing with them. And that is a public humiliation ritual, making a mockery of any rival. And if they disobey ANY whim of his, they're gone. That one scene with Tyrion at his wedding? That "Kneel!"? He's commanding the same of any man unlucky enough to have threatened his claim on you. Oh, and they're going to be his cupbearer.

Even if they do as he asks, by now his anger will have transformed into that renewed sense of cruelty. "You're fingers or your tongue?...Or I could just cut your throat."

𝑅𝐴𝑀𝑆𝐴𝑌 𝐵𝛰𝐿𝑇𝛰𝑁

♫ “You're gonna suffer now, whatever you do.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

His jealousy may not be as overtly intense as Joffrey's, but it certainly is the scariest.

In his own words, he prefers being an only child. That same kind of mentality certainly carries over to his relationship with you. He prefers to be the only one you see that way.

He loves a good game, and that's what this is. If anything, it's quite exhilarating for him. Though, he is a huge hypocrite. For a man who thinks jealousy is boring coming from you, he feels it quite freely.

Sees it as a means of asserting dominance, whether that be through intimidation or overt manipulation. He doesn't deny it like most characters on this list. When he's feeling jealous, he says it. It's a small warning for you not to go any farther, lest worse things occur for you or the perceived threat.

He'll go up to whoever you are talking too, saccharine and honorable smile on his face. He'll casually interrupt, introducing himself as Lord Bolton's successor. Despite his calm demeanor, there is a tightness in his face, and a wicked look in his eyes, that only you can recognize. It will make you shiver.

If the rival persists, he'll find it all too amusing.

"You're bold, I'll give you that." He says with a boisterous laugh, and you already know the mans fate is sealed.

Looks like his hounds will be having another meal tonight. He'll have his men go out looking for the man, and he'll question him more...privately, when you aren't there to witness his tortuous taunts.

But for now, his focus is on you, and your loyalty to him. When he excuses the both of you, his hand is gripping yours painfully tight.

By the time you're in his chamber, he's on you, ripping your clothes off with a harsh intensity and pushing you to the wall. His nose is twitching in barely kept anger, forcing you to look at him.

We all saw that scene between him and Myranda when she threatens to marry someone else, and it was not pretty. His eyes are borderline bloodshot, and he can't keep his hands off you or your throat.

"You're mine." He leans forward, through gritted teeth. It's better you don't put up a fight, because he'll be having you and your attention one way or another.

Que the numerous kisses and bite marks soon to follow. And he is not gentle when he's inside you.

You'll never hear from the flirtatious lord again...and if you do, it's only in the prayers of his grieving family.

𝑇𝑌𝑅𝐼𝛰𝑁 𝐿𝐴𝑁𝑁𝐼𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅

♫ “My love, you are not safe with me.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Now, Tyrion's jealousy is more subdued and introspective versus some characters on this list. He has a good sense of self-awareness, and he's intelligent to figure out what he's feeling quite quickly.

At first he'll dismiss it as nothing more than an annoying feeling of insecurity he attempts to cover up. But...it doesn't last long. Especially when someone else makes you laugh. Or when Bronn makes a taunt with a half smirk, that some other fancy lord has taken a keen interest in his lady. (Bronn, you instigator!)

As such, Tyrion resorts to his usual humor to deflect any unpleasant feelings he may have when he's jealous. Similar to his brother, these witty remarks are are subtle intimidation technique, meant to dryly convey his displeasure.

"Ah, the sound of laughter. How quaint. I suppose I’ll have to work harder to earn your amusement." He forces a smile, masking his discomfort. "I didn’t realize I was competing for the title of Court Jester."

These feelings of inadequacy manifest in more self-deprecating ways for Tyrion, given his anger is more controlled. He might opt to drown his sorrows, so don't be surprised if you catch him drunkenly waving his chalice around, doing poor impressions of the so-called-lord that had your attention.

This doesn't mean he won't confront the rival, though. Quite the opposite. While he won't seek the man out, (For his sake, he isn't privy to seeing the tall handsome lord in person. He's not a masochist.) If he happens to come across him flirting with you first hand, or sees him during a feast, he'll make sure to throw one or two gibes out there.

"Desperation looks unflattering on you, my friend. Perhaps you should tone it down a notch." He speaks carefully, nodding to Bronn as a subtle warning. "Or at least the best you can manage..?"

If the rival flirts with you blatantly and in front of him, I can 100% imagine him putting them down. After a flirtatious remark directed towards you, he'll make a dry comment, "Flattery is wasted on me, but do go on; I’m always entertained by those who think they can win my affection." As if it was directed towards him. Probably shuts the man up for a moment.

When the two of you are alone, he'd be very grateful if you could just hold him. Give him that reassurance he craves when his carefree facade breaks. That moment of vulnerability means the world to him.

𝑆𝐴𝑁𝐷𝛰𝑅 "𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐻𝛰𝑈𝑁𝐷" 𝐶𝐿𝐸𝐺𝐴𝑁𝐸

♫ “I need you to go, don't fight me.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Listen up, Sandor doesn't take shit.

Jealousy isn't an emotion Sandor is particularly used too. In fact, he didn't think he'd find anyone to love in his lifetime, so the feeling is foreign and unpleasant. And, like a mean dog, Sandor's first reaction is to growl.

He doesn't like it. Says it's constricting, and it pisses him off. Not just the pretty boy lord flirting with you, but the whole situation in general. Makes him feel vulnerable, and weak.

Naturally, his first reaction is to distance himself. He may avoid you, grumbling, spitting out vile and vulgar comments to get you to run with your tail between your legs. It's better for the both of you that way.

"You think they’re worth your time? Just a pretty smile to distract you?" He scoffs, shaking his head. "You could do better. But then again, you always choose to suffer." He motions at himself, and it's a glimpse of that self-depreciation he buries.

But you love him for a reason, and you know that won't end well. Best way to handle him when he's jealous is to be gentle, and to listen.

He doesn't want empty reassurances. He's complicated that way, even if they are genuine. He isn't one for flowery words or overt displays of emotion, so the best way to comfort him would be to give him some space, but continue to take care of him.

It will still frustrate him, but eventually he'll cave. He'll rejoin you, silently, eventually. Won't offer any apologies, but maybe a gruff nod, and you two will commence whatever it is you two have.

In future instances, he becomes much more brutally honest with how he feels. Doesn't sugarcoat it. If he doesn't like someone, even if they are a friend, he expects them gone- or he'll take care of them regardless. That kind of possessive behavior is just something you'll have to work through.

I can imagine him silently brooding if he witnesses someone flirting with you first hand. Typically his size and reputation is enough to scare whoever away. He's looming over them, eyes dark, and ready to defend what's his.

When you take your leave, he'll confront the person with a very explicit threat or two.

"If you don’t back off, I’ll find a nice dark corner to stuff you in- preferably with a pile of shit." Or, "Get any closer, and I’ll rip your tongue out and shove it down your throat."

𝐴𝐸𝑀𝛰𝑁��� 𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐺𝐴𝑅𝑌𝐸𝑁

♫ “Get swallowed by the weight.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Aemond has the most...complex jealousy out of everyone on this list. It's layered, and the outcome may be unpredictable. It's an emotional and volatile nature that's been building up for years since he was a child.

He often had feelings of jealousy for his brother, his nephews, etc. That trauma is deeply rooted in him, and it's hard to let go of old habits, given it's been present all his life.

You'll watch his head bow in distaste when you make small conversation with other lords. How his eye will gaze at you, almost warningly. His jaw will be clenched tight, and he'll avoid eye contact, looking off to the side in anger. He doesn't want to watch.

If it's a friend of yours, he can be a bit mean, questioning your loyalty a bit harshly.

"Friendship? Is that what you call it?" He speaks, angrily. A thinly veiled threat is directed to you, "It seems more like a prelude to betrayal."

He'll brood in the corner, silently waiting. That is, unless, he deems the man goes too far.

In the scene where he gets his eye put out by Lucerys, the conversation that starts before it happens pretty much sums his jealousy up. He's firm with his claim to Vaghar, and the same goes for you.

When Rhaena states that Vaghar was hers to claim, Aemond responds in kind, "Then you should've claimed her." And puts up a hell of a fight to prove his point. That same possessiveness carries over to his relationship with you. He doesn't back down. You're his.

He has no problems getting in between you and the man he feels threatened of. He offers a blunt threat.

"I could have you torn apart, limb by limb, and I’d sleep soundly at night. Be certain of that."

Guaranteed, mixed feelings of insecurity will rise to the surface. When you two are alone, he'll continue to brood silently, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and body language tight.

Please do reassure him. He needs it. His eye will soften, and he'll place his hand over yours, leaning into your touch. With a soft huff of an air, a final warning slips past his lips.

"Don’t make me remind you why I’m the only one worthy of you."

𝐴𝐸𝐺𝛰𝑁 𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐺𝐴𝑅𝑌𝐸𝑁

♫ “I wanna hold on tightly.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Aegon handles jealousy poorly, much like he seems to handle everything else.

It's like throwing gasoline on a fire. Once that feeling in his chest flares up, it's shown through erratic behavior, sarcasm, and attempts to assert his claim in juvenile, insecure ways. Unlike his brother, he lacks the restraint to simply brood.

No, be prepared for plenty of mocking comments directed towards the man he's threatened of, and showy displays to prove he's the better choice.

Everyone knows he is unpredictable and reckless, and possessiveness drives him to act out. He certainly overindulges to cope with his insecurity, (getting shitfaced) and will gladly push your boundaries to get your attention back on him.

Not to mention the belittling comments he'll make.

"Oh, is that who you’ve chosen to entertain now? I didn’t realize your taste had grown so dull."

Prone to acting overtly clingy, almost like a restless cat. He will attempt to slide over into the conversation, resting an arm around you, or even pulling you away. He doesn't care if it's 'improper.' He probably brings up his status, his bloodline, acting over-the-top.

He's also no stranger to outbursts. His temper may make him lash out impulsively, whether that be towards you or the man whose got your attention. If he's in a particular mood, be ready to deal with a screaming Aegon, threatening to slaughter and burn said rival. His fist will come down hard on the council table.

He also doesn't care if he's making a show of it in front of the council members. Que Alicent or Otto attempting to placate him. He needs to have a cooler head if he's going to be ruling the Seven Kingdoms, and this type of behavior isn't very becoming.

He definitely thinks he's owed some make-up sex, if only to quell the insecure storm raging inside him.

"You think they could satisfy you? Truly?" He says, firmly, as he steps closer. Anger is burning in his words, volume raising. "They wouldn’t even know where to begin."

And he plans to show you that he's right.

𝐴𝐿𝐼𝐶𝐸𝑁𝑇 𝐻𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇𝛰𝑊𝐸𝑅

♫ “I'm afraid I'll pull you over the edge.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Alicent experiences jealousy complexly, just like Aemond. It gnaws on her until she's at her breaking point. Rather than overt displays or confrontations, she attempts to employ more strategic distance...but it always ends up resorting in icy politeness.

She's making her displeasure known through restrained, pointed remarks. Out of duty and pride, she'll attempt to avoid direct confrontation, but she wears her jealousy on her sleeve.

I imagine her withdrawing from the situation at first, if not for anything but her own sake. Her gut reaction, out of insecurity, is to escape the situation. It honestly makes her feel sick.

Unless she's forced to stay...then she'll begrudgingly offer a tight smile. Her responses are carefully measured, and she slips into that role of "queen" rather than a lover.

A part of it stems from passive aggressiveness, and another part of it is purely subconscious.

Speaking of passive aggressiveness, she'll make some pretty cutting remarks, either questioning your loyalty or purposely feigning ignorance to the situation.

"Perhaps I’m mistaken. But I know loyalty when I see it. Or when I don’t."

It's an all bark, no bite threat towards you. But it serves as an aggressive reminder of your connection with her, and that you are now apart of her duties.

If she does interfere beforehand, she'll make indirect remarks about the person causing her jealousy, but will most likely frame it as merely her own curiosity.

Maybe just a touch of self-depreciation, unintentional manipulation. Years of Otto's techniques have rubbed off on her.

"It’s of little consequence, truly. I simply thought I was the one you preferred to spend your time with. I may have misjudged."

𝐺𝑊𝐴𝑌𝑁𝐸 𝐻𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇𝛰𝑊𝐸𝑅

♫ “Hurts to say it over, over again.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

In contrast to Alicent, Gwayne has no problem when he feels threatened to step in. He's a member of a powerful house, and a knight no less. Those two things have taught him to be prideful and honorable.

He will defend your honor whenever he deems in necessary, and there are no exceptions. He certainly has a flash of a temper, but he believes he's much more restrained than others, given his training.

If he thinks someone is crossing a line, he'll interfere. He'll position himself quite closely to you, making his presence known.

He offers the man a silent warning, offering a cool, assessing look. It would be enough to communicate his disapproval.

And if the man persists...well...they'll end up with the end of a sword pointed at them.

Similar to Robb, Gwayne's jealousy appears more in his heightened protectiveness. He insists on staying close for your safety.

"Do they need to be reminded that you’re already spoken for?"

Obviously, his noble pride carries on. If he gets pushed, his jealousy will show more openly, taking the man aside, and telling them that he is more worthy of her time and attention. Might throw in a comment about his noble standing.

He'll take you aside when everything is said and done, reminding her his intentions are honorable. Everyone else is just...unworthy.

"You may not see it, but I know men like him. If he truly respected you, he wouldn’t need to linger around someone else’s beloved."

𝐷𝐴𝐸𝑀𝛰𝑁 𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐺𝐴𝑅𝑌𝐸𝑁

♫ "No matter how you feel." Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Oh boy, you'll have to keep this man on a tight leash when his jealousy flares up. It's as intense as he is, and he shows it openly.

He'll deny it, or embrace it, depending on the severity of the perceived offense. It's closely tied to that desire for power within him he can't seem to shake. Any affront to your loyalty is an affront to his own standing.

He switches from possessive protectiveness to outright hostility. There's really no in between. It's a raw and unfiltered fury that makes his hand shake and his eye twitch.

He doesn't tolerate rivals, and he's very upfront that he's the only one fit to be by your side. This comes through when he has you all to himself on his bed...

He'll confront the person whether you want him to or not.

"If they value their limbs, they’d remember you’re mine." He mutters casually, pacing around the room.

He carries that hard glint in his eyes. He may even mildly appreciate the sheer balls of the man stupid enough to attempt to flirt with you, but he'll shut it down quicker than anyone on this list.

"You’ve got a bold tongue. I wonder if I should cut it out..?" He'll look to you for permission. It's up to you if you wanna let the dragon loose!

[tossawary]

One of the more amusing narrative constructions in "Merlin" to me is how explicitly magic is tied to medicine from the very beginning of the show, with the healer Gaius as Merlin's mentor in both medicine and (secretly) in magic.

The third episode deals with a magically created plague in Camelot (which frankly seems like it should have killed WAY more people than they show dying, if it was in the water and as deadly as they suggest) and from the beginning, Merlin is like, "I can use magic to fix this. Let me use magic to help. I can save all of these people's lives." And Gaius stops him because he fears Uther will find out somehow. (You can also suppose that magic usually requires greater training than Merlin has, and fighting/curing a malevolent plague would burn most sorcerers out very quickly, and Gaius has no real concept yet of just how badly Merlin's gifts break the curve.)

Later in the episode, Merlin ignores Gaius in order to secretly cure Gwen's father. This quickly becomes a disaster because Arthur notices this quick recovery and finds the physical charm used, Gwen is blamed, and Uther decides to go straight to an execution about it because he sucks. But Merlin was RIGHT that he could cure the plague! Apparently with relatively little effort on his part! (Possibly because he's a freak of nature among sorcerers, admittedly!) It is a magical plague, potentially more of a curse than a virus, presumably working on different rules, but still!

It really underlines that all of these people are dying JUST because of Uther and Nimueh's conflict. Firstly because Nimueh is trying to get her revenge against Uther in the worst way possible, a plague, and secondly because Uther won't let anyone use magic to fight back.

In the next episode (4), it's all about Arthur getting a (magic?) flower to cure the (magic?) poison that Merlin drank. Episode 6, which I haven't rewatched yet, features another magical healer, come to take revenge against Uther for the death of his healer parents. In many of these cases, it's magical remedy versus magic cause, but it seems not unreasonable to assume that magic could still be very useful when dealing with non-magical ailments.

In fantasy worlds, I personally tend towards the idea that magic would just be another form of technology, and in many cases would be integrated with all other human technology in society. (Cooking! Humans LOVE cooking! Not starving is the #1 societal concern throughout much of history! Magic, if practical, would be used for a LOT of food-related stuff.) Obviously, there are fantasy worlds where magic is new in the world or sourced from evil demons or whatever, or there may be some anti-magic ideology for another reason, so people in those worlds wouldn't use magic casually. Magic, its origins and its cost, is different in every fantasy world, of course!

But in pre-Purge Camelot here, it very much seems that magic was a practical skill that would have been useful during daily life, even just to boil water or have a light in the dark. Maybe the gifts are relatively rare and the training is difficult for most people, but it seems like most people who work in medicine would want to have as much knowledge about magic as possible, even if they themselves can't really do any spells, and do not become druids or priestesses or anything like that. There seem to be a significant amount of magical plants and animals here, which would be crucial to the work.

So, uh, it looks like Uther's Purge would have primarily targeted anyone with medical knowledge. The equivalent of this society's doctors, nurses, and pharmacists. Healers, midwives, alchemists, and anyone else who refused to give up a useful tool that could save lives. Also anyone who made their living selling protective charms or magical herbs or any small thing that could have helped during a plague. Uther's Purge presumably wiped out Camelot's ENTIRE existing medical infrastructure.

Camelot has SEWERS somehow. And why wouldn't magic have been used in the construction and maintenance of a sewer system? If magic is a practical tool, it would have absolutely been used in waste disposal* and water filtration.

*EDIT: Yes, I know that the shown sewers aren't used for waste, obviously. I phrased this poorly. These sewers ARE directly connected to drinking water in the show, however, and the human waste that is generated by a city (which is a lot) getting into this system somehow would be a serious concern. SEPARATELY, I do think magic would have uses in regards to waste disposal. I don't think that these specific sewers are for waste, just that magic could be a tool for their cleanliness.

(Mulling over the potential headcanon that the only reason Nimueh's plague wasn't worse is because Camelot still has hidden layers of various magical protections holding over, even 20 years later. No one has been recasting the old Circles of Protections on the castle lately because very smart CEO Uther Pendragon has also killed most of the custodial and IT departments. "It's fine," he says, "there is no measurable difference," when Camelot is teetering on the edge of catastrophic failure several times a season.)

Like, uh, no wonder Uther can't get a single huzzah even when he announces a festival. It's the anniversary of this shitty king killing nearly all the doctors and outlawing Camelot's equivalent of vaccines and antibiotics. I'd hate his guts. Infant mortality probably skyrocketed. Do you think that people who live near the borders of Camelot regularly sneak one kingdom over to visit the nearest healer? I do. I'm imagining that some noblewoman in Camelot gets pregnant and then immediately goes to stay with her sister for a little while in the neighboring kingdom, because that king over there didn't kill all of the damn midwives. Fucking hell.

[houserautha]

Truth Be Told

Summary: When you ask your dagger a question, it vibrates to communicate yes. And Feyd has a lot of questions.

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: MDNI, dubious consent, dirty talk, inappropriate use of a dagger, male and female orgasms, some blood

A/N: I recently read “Bound to the Shadow Prince” by Ruby Dixon. (Great smutty monster romance novel). I was anticipating a scene with a magical dagger that never happened so I decided to write it with Feyd🥰

Does he want to kill me?

Shiver.

Will he kill me?

Nothing.

The dagger, grasped in your sweaty palm, doesn’t respond. This hardly does anything to calm your nerves. Remembering that it’s specific about phrasing, you ask, Will he kill me before the day is over?

Your breath hitches in anticipation.

Nothing.

Okay, so your betrothed wants to kill you, but at least he won’t today. As long as you ask every day, surely you could survive this courtship — or know when to make a run for it. You thought your sister was a fool when she gifted you this dagger. Technology, magic, whatever powered it, was strictly prohibited. But upon her insistence you took it with you to Giedi Prime and now you’re grateful that you did.

It’s a modicum of comfort in such a harsh place.

Your thoughts of home are interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming from the opposite direction. You’ve only just slipped the dagger down the front of your corset when none other than Feyd-Rautha turns the corner.

He doesn’t look surprised to see you, as if he somehow arranged for this to happen; you, on the other hand, had been trying to avoid him. A series of scenarios play through your head in which you walk past him, all of them ending rather tragically. Instead, you stay rooted to the spot.

Feyd-Rautha sidles casually down the hall, boots ringing out with each step. You hate how furiously your heart pounds when he’s near. It would be one thing if you were just afraid of him. He certainly warranted such a reaction. But there was a small, traitorous part of you that was thrilled to be in his presence, ensnared in his dark gaze. He had a habit of looking at you as if you were the only one in the room, the center of his attention — a dangerous thing to be, indeed.

And you liked it.

“You look frightened,” Feyd-Rautha rasps. His voice glides down your back like cold water.

You lift your chin. “You’re mistaking fear for distrust.”

“Distrust, of me?”

“What are you doing?” You ask, ignoring him. It takes tremendous effort not to roll your eyes at his feigned offense. “I thought you were entertaining diplomats.”

Feyd-Rautha rolls his tongue inside his cheek. “I was.”

There’s something about his blunt, uninformative reply that ignites an ember of anger inside you. “And now you’re here to pester me.”

“Is that right?”

“What else?” You snap.

Feyd-Rautha steps closer. He eclipses the rest of the corridor, a portrait of dark and light, pale skin and armor as black as night. His voice rumbles like thunder over you. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Hm. Is that why you’ve been darting out of every room I walk into? Freeze when you see me?” Feyd-Rautha’s gaze slips over you in a pointed manner. Your cheeks burn.

“What does it matter to you if I do?”

“Cowardice is unbecoming of you.”

“And pride is unbecoming of you,” you hiss back, “to think I care about you enough to leave whenever I notice you.”

In a surge of movement, faster than you can even process, Feyd-Rautha has cornered you against the wall, forearm pressed to your throat. Panic swells in your chest. Is he trying to scare me?

Between your breasts, the dagger shivers.

Reflexively, without thinking, your hand flutters there. Feyd-Rautha hones in on this, is close enough to you to probably sense the displacement of air. His eyes narrow. Within the span of a few thunderous heartbeats he reaches down your corset, and you cry out as he dips between your breasts and retrieves the dagger.

“What is this?”

“It’s nothing,” you tell him.

“A weapon?” He appraises it, then you. “You think you can hide this from me?”

In his hand the dagger shivers.

You curse out loud.

“Where did you get this?” Feyd-Rautha demands. The blade of the dagger replaces his forearm at your throat.

“It’s mine,” you growl, “give it back.”

The next time you correspond with your sister, you’re going to yell at her for not telling you it responds to other people.

“Where. Did. You. Get. This.”

You hold your tongue. A snarl tears through his chest and he leans his weight into the dagger, drawing blood, warm and thick. It slides down your throat and pools into the divot at the bottom. You keep your silence even though pain explodes at the site of the incision, white hot and searing.

“You wish to disavow the laws of our Emperor by bringing this onto my planet? Into my home?”

Shiver.

An inkling of anger vanishes from his face, something much worse taking its place. The intensity of the blade lessens. “It’s aware. How? What technology is this?”

“I-I don’t know,” you say finally. Your fingers itch at your side — you just want it back. “All I know is that it will answer yes or no to your questions.”

Feyd-Rautha considers this.

You wrap your hand around Feyd-Rautha’s, the one holding the dagger, to prove your point. “I have three eyes.” Nothing. “I’m wearing an emerald dress.” It shivers. The vibration shoots up your arm, and it’s only then that you realize that you’re still touching him.

A flicker of amusement dances in his expression as you quickly remove your hand.

“Interesting,” Feyd-Rautha mumbles.

“Now that you know, I’d like it back.”

A ripple of tension rolls between you, a storm on the horizon. In way of reply, Feyd-Rautha drags the tip of the dagger down the column of your throat, fixated on its progress.

It steals the air from your lungs. “Please.”

“I don’t think so,” Feyd-Rautha distantly says, as if lost in thought. The dagger slips over the swell of your breasts and rests on the edge of your corset, prompting shivers to break out across your skin. All it takes is a single slice for him to cut through the material.

Without the support, your breasts fall free. And while you’re still covered by the lightweight chemise underneath, your hardened nipples betray your arousal. Feyd-Rautha traces around each one with the blade, then flicks them.

“My suspicions about your true feelings are quite evident,” he says, slow and unhurried, “though I would be loathe not to confirm them myself.”

His dark eyes lock on yours. “Does she think of me?”

Shiver. The blade, pressed to one taut nipple, sends a pulse straight to your core. You squirm, trying to evade him — his touch, his questions — but he keeps you securely in place. “Often?” He asks, to which the blade shudders again.

“Please, stop —”

“Oh, but I’ve only just started.”

The coolness of the dagger cuts through the thin material of the chemise. It’s almost painful how aroused you are, every inch of your body alive, aware, buzzing with anticipation. Feyd-Rautha leans in closer. “Does she think of me when she’s touching herself?”

Shiver.

You grit out between clenched teeth, “That’s enough.”

Torturously, Feyd-Rautha offers no amount of relief. A torrent of questions follow. Does she touch herself every night? Does she say my name? Does she dream about what it might be like for me to fuck her?

Each time the blade betrays you, shuddering over and over again in quick succession. The sensation on your nipple is overwhelming, crashing into you with unexpected ferocity. It’s not only the nature of his questions that elicit such response, but the sharpness of the blade, his hips ground into yours and the presence of his cock against your thigh.

Hazily, you wonder if he’s enjoying this because he’s twisted or because he’s aroused by you too. There’s no way of knowing if the blade validates this line of thought, not with the steady stream of questions that Feyd-Rautha is whispering, a man possessed. Is she wet right now, just at my touch? At the sight of me? If I reach between her legs, will I find her cunt aching for my fingers?

You whimper. Whatever tether there is between your nipples and your cunt, it’s been pulled tight. He’s right and you hate it. You are wet, uncomfortably so, desperate for friction. And you aren’t able to disguise your delight when he takes the blade down your navel, free hand gathering your skirts and pushing them aside to expose you to him. His plush lips form a wicked smile.

“So wet, just for me,” Feyd-Rautha rasps. He palms himself through his pants, admiring you all the while. You writhe impatiently.

“You can’t wait, can you?” The blade shivers. A wave of ecstasy sweeps over you as he touches it to the inside of your thigh.

You all but thrust your hips into him, a wanton, greedy thing. Mercifully, Feyd-Rautha grazes the blade to your weeping cunt and then outlines your entrance, more gentle than any man with his reputation should allow. But he finds love in this, does he not? The delicate control that he wields, the certainty of a weapon in his hands. You sense this from him the same way someone can look at a piece of art and know the care the artist put into each brushstroke.

And this realization only entices you more to him, makes the handle of the dagger pressed against your swollen clit that much sweeter.

“You like this, don’t you? You want this. Want my cock, want anything I can give you.”

Shiver after shiver. The blade vibrates over your clit and a cry of pleasure escapes, swallowed by Feyd-Rautha clamping a hand over your mouth. You blink back tears as you silently plead him to continue, the pressure of the blade and the shuddering of your truths, come to light, nearly enough to send you to your knees.

Hatred wrestles with your desperation as Feyd-Rautha breathes more questions into the junction of your neck, like whispering prayers. You’ll take this cock so nicely, won’t you? Won’t you, jewel?

You come at the image of his cock inside you. It’s not hard to imagine, with it currently burying into your thigh. Feyd-Rautha keeps you upright as you buckle under the euphoria of your orgasm, strong and steady in the storm of the aftermath. And you don’t even get to completely descend from the high, either, as he nudges the handle of the blade between your slick folds and into your cunt.

“I’ve almost sated my curiosity,” Feyd-Rautha rasps, “but I have a few more questions for you. Do you think you can handle that?”

The dagger is small, not quite filling you up, but as it quakes in agreement the ridges of it bump against your walls and you jolt. “Don’t make me cover that pretty mouth again.” Feyd-Rautha places a trail of kisses — bites, really, sure to leave bruises — up your neck. He laps up the blood from before, and licks over the incision. “Are you ready, jewel?”

You don’t have to speak. The blade shivers.

His chuckle, dark and dangerous and wonderful, resonates deep inside. You think you’re prepared for the next round of questions, prepared for the splitting answer of your orgasm, but you’re sorely mistaken. Feyd-Rautha pumps the blade into you up to its hilt and then out, over and over, all while eking out questions that keep it shuddering at a toe-curling pace.

But it’s not just my cock that you want, is it? You want my mouth, don’t you? My fingers? Fuck, look at you, you’ll take whatever you can have in your greedy cunt, won’t you? And you’ll call out my name as you come? ‘Cause you’re such a good girl. So good, just for me?

You were already near the ledge but you’ve toppled back over it now. “Feyd,” you gasp out.

Pleasure cleaves you in two and your orgasm tears from you, more colorful and blinding than any you’ve ever had. Stars dance behind your closed eyes. Feyd-Rautha holds the quivering blade at your most sensitive spot as he wrings out your orgasm, murmuring praises, cock twitching against your leg. There’s a warmth there, not from you, but from his own release — and when you finally have the clarity to open your eyes, to face what just happened, you discover that he doesn’t seemed ashamed of this in the least.

Feyd-Rautha just withdraws the dagger from you. He lets your skirts, now wrinkled, drop to the ground. And he holds your gaze as he first sucks your juices from the handle, then licks your blood from the blade. His tongue is long, sinful, and you visually chase it back into his mouth where it disappears behind a satisfied smirk.

“I believe this is yours.”

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

Galadriel x Sauron: One Royal Couple to Rule Them All

Many fellow fans don’t understand why Galadriel would ever join Sauron, of her own free will, in his plan of world domination.

To me, this due to two things:

Whitewashing of Galadriel’s character and refusing to see how much she craves absolute power. There are so many bad takes about her character, it’s hard to address them all in here. I’ll just say she’s not the “Virgin Mary” of Tolkien lore; she’s not a “fairytale princess”, nor a “damsel in distress”;

Misunderstanding of Sauron’s plans. Even if you aren’t familiar with Tolkien lore nor have read the books, “Rings of Power” already explained what Sauron’s goals are, and what he wishes to accomplish.

Sauron’s Masterplan

Let’s start with Sauron’s masterplan. What does he want?

But today, a new age begins. Under me. Your new master. Sauron. And with a new age, I bring a new vision. A path to unconditional conquest. For I seek a new kind of power. Not of the flesh, but over flesh. A power of the unseen world. One we shall use to enslave the peoples of Middle-earth to our very will. Many Orcs will die. But out of the chaos, we will forge a new and perfect order. No longer will we be hunted as the demons who broke Middle-earth, but rather worshipped as the saviors who finally healed it. By bringing its peoples together, to rule them all as one!

From a perspective of Tolkien lore, this speech was a bit over the top, even for Sauron himself. But I understand why the show writers went with this, it’s meant to illustrate that Sauron is evil, and a tyrannical dictator.

Sauron doesn’t see himself as a villain; he thinks he’s the hero, here. Because he’s a demigod and one of the Ainur; he helped shape the world the seeks to dominate. He looks at the ruins of Middle-earth and how the Valar aren’t doing anything to help. He’s the only deity who’s willing to do anything about it. And so, he steps in and makes it his personal mission to rebuild Middle-earth (“heal it”).

He would never call himself “Sauron”, either, because that’s the name the Elves created to mock his own (“Mairon”). And it means “the abhorrent” instead of “the admirable”. He would call himself Tar-Mairon, “King excellent”. But, again, the show had to go with this otherwise casual viewers wouldn’t know who this character is.

This is Adar spelling Sauron’s plan to Galadriel in 2x08. When I first watched this scene I must confess I was confused and thought this could be one of Sauron’s deceptions, actually.

This is Sauron’s masterplan and the reason why he created the “rings of power” (the “power of the Unseen world”) in the first place. But this brings another interesting question; perhaps Adar himself was on board with Sauron’s masterplan of healing Middle-earth until he saw his methods.

Adar, in 1x06, told Galadriel a bit about Sauron's plan, as well, when he reveals to have killed him:

After Morgoth's defeat, the one you call Sauron… Devoted himself to healing Middle-earth, bringing its ruined lands together in perfect order. He sought to craft a power not of the flesh… But over flesh. A power of the Unseen World. He bid as many as he could to follow him far north. But try as he might… Something was missing. A shadow of dark knowledge that kept itself hidden, even from him. No matter how much blood he spilt in its pursuit. For my part… I sacrificed enough of my children for his aspirations. I split him open. I killed Sauron.

Repentant Mairon, himself, already told this to Galadriel in 1x08:

When Morgoth was defeated, it was as if a great, clenched fist had released its grasp from my neck. And in the stillness of that first sunrise, at last, I felt the light of The One again. And I knew if ever I was to be forgiven... That I had to heal everything that I had helped ruin.

Mairon wish to “heal” Middle-earth comes from his own desire to escape Morgoth’s bounds. That’s the reason behind the “heal yourself” quote from 2x08. Mairon wants to kill “Sauron”, as well, and erase every trace of his former master from the world.

But he can’t, nor can he escape his bounds to Morgoth, because, like Tolkien wrote, they are too strong (“Rings of Power” suggested there might have been some blood oath/binding involved) and he falls back into evil. And this is why he gets so triggered when Celebrimbor calls him "shadow of Morgoth", and he snaps, and kills him in a rage fit:

But Sauron regrets this in the next minute, and he cries. Because this is not him, this chaotic destruction is not who he is. He’s a control freak, a mastermind, always planning and scheming, he’s patient, and organized to the point of obsession. These are Morgoth’s bounds and corruption of him reaching the surface. And when he looks up all he sees is Morgoth.

Sauron’s masterplan is the unite everyone on Middle-earth; all kingdoms and all races (Elves, Dwarves and Men) to live together in peace and harmony. No more wars, no more suffering, no more pain; only a world of beauty, order and perfection. The qualities he was created to have by Eru himself, and his contributions during the Ainulindalë, when he helped shaped the world alongside the Valar and the other Maiar. This is why he tells Celebrimbor this, in 2x07: I see the end, Celebrimbor. So clearly. I have seen it from the moment I awoke.

The problem here isn’t his masterplan per say: this is not an evil plan by any means. But he was corrupted by Morgoth, and his ways are also corrupted. This is how he self-deceives himself. Mairon’s love for order becomes a obsession with domination; and Sauron knows he has to become a tyrant and to enslave everyone to his will, in order to create his perfect world.

To him, the end justifies the means, and he’s willing to use chaos and destruction (Morgoth) to achieve his masterplan. And this is perfectly embodied in this quote from him, in 2x01: “out of the chaos, we will forge a new and perfect order”.

Where does Galadriel fits in all of this?

He thinks she’s the missing piece. Sauron believes her “light” will keep him in check, and somehow control his bounds to Morgoth. But as I’ve discussed before in this post, her “light” isn’t really hers, it’s the light of the Two Trees of Valinor, and it shines on every Elf that was born during the Years of the Trees, in Valinor.

It’s Galadriel’s beauty that blinds Sauron. And why is that? Because she’s the physical form, the materialization, of everything he was designed to love by Eru himself. I already talked about this in this post. This tells us their attraction is not only spiritual (the “they are higher beings” nonsense), but also physical (sexual).

The reason why Mairon was attracted to her in the first place was because Galadriel, unconsciously, reminded him of Morgoth. Galadriel and Morgoth share the same chaotic energy; the same arrogance, greed and lust for power. This is yet another one of the ways Mairon self-deceives himself; he thinks Galadriel would allow him to escape Morgoth’s bounds, but it's the other way around. On a unconscious level, he’s always seeking his former master. And that's why he wants to serve her, and to bind himself to her.

And we, the audience already saw him pitching this desire to Galadriel herself, in 1x08:

Sauron: This is it. You bind me to the light. And I bind you to power. Together, we can save this Middle-earth. Galadriel: Save? Or rule? Sauron: I see no difference.

And this blood binding is exactly what he does in 2x08, using Morgoth’s crown; the dark magic artifact that’s already infused with his own blood because Adar used it to destroy his previous physical form.

This is a silent conversation happening between them, through their new bound. And Sauron probably showed her many things, namely: the connection they shared in Season 1 was true and real because he “felt it, too” (and not a deception on his part like Galadriel believed); his proposal was honest (he would, indeed, make her the Queen of Middle-earth), and his entire masterplan.

But Sauron is not only an expert on deceiving others, but himself, too (like Celebrimbor told him, in 2x07). Meaning, in his mind, Galadriel as the “Queen of queens” would be a good thing. Except it wouldn’t. She would be far worse than him, with the power he would provide her with.

Which leads me to the next point:

Galadriel Lust for Ultimate Power

To understand this, we need to go back to the source: Tolkien. What does he says about Galadriel?

[Galadriel] had no peace within. Pride still moved [her] when, at the end of the Elder Days, the final overthrow of Morgoth, she refused the pardon of the Valar for all who had fought against him, and remained on Middle-earth. Unfinished Tales [of Númenor and Middle-earth]

A penitent: in her youth [Galadriel] a leader in the rebellion against the Valar (the angelic guardians). At the end of the First Age she proudly refused forgiveness or permission to return [to Valinor]. She was pardoned because of her resistance to the final and overwhelming temptation to take the [One] Ring for herself. Tolkien, Letter 320

Galadriel, in Tolkien lore, is a “penitent”, a “repentant sinner”, because she turned her back on literal heaven (Valinor) due to her pride and her greed for power (wanting a kingdom of her own), and for this she was banished by the Valar: Tolkien work is infused with Christian doctrine whenever people chose to ignore or not, it’s still there. And this is true in “Rings of Power”, too, only her desire for power is connected with her desire for Sauron, in the show.  

Now, to understand her connection with Sauron, and want she truly wants, we need to look at “The Mirror of Galadriel” chapter in “Fellowship of the Ring”, the first book of “The Lord of the Rings” trilogy. Overall, the scene with the Mirror is somewhat similar to the Peter Jackson adaptation, only Sam is also there in the book version, and he wants to see Elf magic.

This takes place thousands of years after the “Rings of Power” timeline, and Sauron has been defeated, at least, 5,000 years ago. 

The last night before the Fellowship departs Lothlórien, Galadriel offers Frodo and Sam the opportunity to look into her Mirror, and they accept.

With water from the stream Galadriel filled the basin to the brim, and breathed on it, and when the water was still again she spoke. “Here is the Mirror of Galadriel,” she said. “I have brought you here so you may look in it, if you will.” The air was very still, and the dell was dark, and the Elf-lady beside him was tall and pale. “What shall we look for, and what shall we see?” asked Frodo, filled with awe. “Many things I can command the Mirror to reveal,” she answered. “But the Mirror will also show things unbidden, and those are often stranger and more profitable than things which we wish to behold. What you will see, if you leave the Mirror free to work, I cannot tell. For it shows things that were, and things that are, and things that yet may be. But which it is that he sees, even the wisest cannot always tell. Do you wish to look?” [...] "Remember that the Mirror shows many things, and not all have yet come to pass. Some never come to be, unless those that behold the visions turn aside from their path to prevent them. The Mirror is dangerous as a guide of deeds.”

Sam sees the “Scouring of the Shire” (which was cut from the Peter Jackson adaptation). Frodo sees several visions, and the last one is the Eye of Sauron itself.

“Do not touch the water!” said the Lady Galadriel softly. The vision faded, and Frodo found that he was looking at the cool stars twinkling in the silver basin. He stepped back shaking all over and looked at the Lady. “I know what it was that you last saw,” she said; “for that is also in my mind. Do not be afraid! But do not think that only by singing amid the trees, nor even by the slender arrows of elven-bows, is this land of Lothlorien maintained and defended against its Enemy. I say to you, Frodo, that even as I speak to you, I perceive the Dark Lord and know his mind, or all of his mind that concerns the Elves. And he gropes ever to see me and my thought. But still the door is closed!”

Galadriel then reveals to Frodo that she’s the ring-bearer of Nenya, one of the Three Elven rings of power. And is with the help of its power, she protects the realm of Lórien. However, Nenya is not the only magic at work here, and I think the ring works as an amplifier of Galadriel’s power (like the Mirror itself), and not as the actual “source”. And the protective spell around Lothlórien is something similar to Girdle of Melian, not only because of Nenya's presence, otherwise Galadriel wouldn’t be able to leave her kingdom, ever.

Praising Galadriel as “wise and fearless and fair,” Frodo offers to give the One Ring to her: “I will give you the One Ring, if you ask for it. It is too great a matter for me.”

This is the when Galadriel’s trial begins; she had the intention of test Frodo, and now she’s the one being tested.

Galadriel laughed with a sudden clear laugh. “Wise the Lady Galadriel may be,” she said, “yet here she has met her match in courtesy. Gently are you revenged for my testing of your heart at our first meeting. You begin to see with a keen eye. I do not deny that my heart has greatly desired to ask what you offer. For many long years I had pondered what I might do, should the Great Ring come into my hands, and behold! It was brought within my grasp. The evil that was devised long ago works on in many ways, whether Sauron himself stands or falls. Would that not have been a noble deed to set to the credit of his Ring, if I had taken it by force or fear from my guest?

“And now at last it comes. You will give me the Ring freely! In place of the Dark Lord you will set up a Queen. And I shall not be dark, but beautiful and terrible as the Morning and the Night! Fair as the Sea and the Sun and the Snow upon the Mountain! Dreadful as the Storm and the Lightning! Stronger than the foundations of the earth. All shall love me and despair! She lifted up her hand and from the ring that she wore there issued a great light that illumined her alone and left all else dark. She stood before Frodo seeming now tall beyond measurement, and beautiful beyond enduring, terrible and worshipful.

Then she let her hand fall, and the light faded, and suddenly she laughed again, and lo! She was shrunken: a slender elf-woman, clad in simple white, whose gentle voice was soft and sad. “I pass the test,” she says, “I will diminish, and go into the West, and remain Galadriel.”

They stood for a long while in silence. At length the Lady spoke again. “Let us return!” she said. “In the morning you must depart, for now we have chosen, and the tides of fate are flowing.”

Let's go back to Galadriel’s “dark form”; both adaptations are similar and true to Tolkien’s words:

Sauron: Fair as the sea and the Sun. Stronger than the foundations of the earth [...] Not dark. Not with you at my side.

In place of a Dark Lord you shall have a Queen. Not dark but beautiful and terrible as the dawn. Treacherous as the sea. Stronger than the foundations of the earth.

The detail that makes all the difference: Sauron proposal was to make her “a” queen, she’s the one who added him to the deal. They both agreed in placing crowns in each other’s heads.

And she wanted to take Sauron's offer, she craved what he offered her; as she confessed to Celebrimbor, in 2x07:

What prevented her from accepting in 1x08 wasn’t the “tyrant” bit, but believing him to be deceiving her, and his proposal being a mere illusion, and not honest. Because he's "the great deceiver" after all.

This is Galadriel’s true heart's desire. She craves this; ultimate power, and to be worshipped by everyone. That’s the reason why Sauron offered her this, in the first place, and why the One ring will give her the same temptation thousands of years later. Sauron has many glorious titles (“Lord of the Earth”; “Ruler of Middle-earth"; “God-king”, “King of Men”, “King of Kings”), and Galadriel wants them all for herself (“In place of the Dark Lord you will set up a Queen”).

Sauron's offer will haunt her for thousands of years, because that’s what she truly wants, she's *that* power hungry, folks. For that D, too. And, in 2x08, what we saw was the beginning of Sauron’s grouping of Galadriel's mind, for centuries into the future, too:

[wewontbesleeping]

$630 on vet bills this time <3

[zarnzarn]

The doors to Olympus are sturdy and strong, given everyone's preferences for drama and slamming said doors open and sending them cracking into the wall whenever the opportunity arises. Which is why it's a surprise when they creak open during the once-a-decade pantheon meeting; less so because no entity worth their salt would take so long to open the doors, and more so because everyone who is anyone is already there.

But if everyone is being honest with themselves- which no one is, usually- these gatherings are boring enough that the bland conversation is dropped immediately in favour of craning their necks to catch a glimpse of whatever is coming to relieve them of their boredom.

When the doors finally open however, several of the pantheon murmur in surprise.

"Odysseus," Athena whispers, wide-eyed as she pushes herself off her throne to her feet. It is him- in the king's garb he was buried in but the face he has when he reached home, hair till the shoulders and speckled with grey, face oddly blank. His feet are transparent.

"What are you doing here, sceptre?" Poseidon booms, hair the color of a stormy sea. Zeus, beside him, looks reserved, observing the ghost with something approaching curiosity- eyes flicking to the lightning scars on his daughter's face and back. "Your time has long passed, and Hades-"

"It is a temporary agreement," Odysseus says curtly, barely sparing him a glance as he approaches his patron. "Athena."

Her armour clinks as she steps forward and the gods all twitch, trading glances. Owls are silent creatures- to have her aspect so affected to make noise was... uneasy to say the least. She even holds herself different than usual, something like confused delight shining in her eyes. "How did you-"

"Did you sleep with my wife?"

The throne room is silent. Several jaws drop.

Athena straightens back up, blinking in surprise. She looks a bit shifty, some of the nymphs closest whisper to each other, which- well, almost every single god present owed some part of their existence to the mere story of Odysseus loving his wife.

Would he fight his own patron goddess over it in front of Mount Olympus, though? He certainly was unbalanced enough; Athena herself looked rather uncertain of her odds, even though-

"Are you addled in death, King of Ithaka?" Artemis drawls, looking amused. "Did you forget that your own patron is celibate? Whatever rumor you-"

"No, I-" Athena says suddenly, shifting her spear to her other hand. "I did."

Artemis chokes on her breath and several assorted divine beings gasp in shock and the rest shouting for explanations, although everyone is nearly drowned out by Aphrodite's loud, "WHAT?"

Odysseus inhales sharply and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I cannot believe you."

"She asked-" Athena starts, only to be drowned out by the din of various beings screeching and shouting about the scandal.

"ATHENA!" Hera hisses, peacock tail fanning behind her sharply as she pushes herself up. "Explain yourself!"

Athena half-turns to face her, face creased in a frown. "Mother, I-"

"LET ME REPHRASE!" Odysseus cuts in loudly, and the shouting settles down into silence. He walks to his patron, eyes blazing. "I cannot believe," he throws his clenched fists wide as he growls the last word, "-you took Penelope to bed-" Athena surprisingly stays still as he reaches her, mouth falling open as he grabs her by the chiton to yank her down, uncaring of the gasps of horror from all around as he snarls, "-before you ever kissed me."

And then Odysseus grabs Athena by the face roughly and kisses her.

This time Aphrodite's shriek cannot be escaped by anyone.

"Aphrodite, please," Zeus says a few moments later, wincing as his throne reforms around him, stained oddly pink. Quite a few minor entities have discorporated, and the ones nearest to her are still trying to regenerate their hearing. "Control yourself."

Their eyes land back on where Athena has dropped her spear- dropped her spear, Ares in the corner seems to be having some minor hysteria over this, well warranted- and is also on the floor, still being thoroughly kissed by that insufferable, mannerless hero of hers, perched on her stomach to reach. Zeus inhales in fury, Poseidon close behind him as the shock wears off, lightning crackling around his fingers as he opens his mouth to shout- of all the indignities-

"If you two ruin this for me," Aphrodite thunders, warping in front of them and glaring. "I will make you both regret it."

Both gods visibly blanch at the threat, taken aback for one brief moment. Threats from Aphrodite are far worse than any of her more violent siblings, at the end of the day.

Zeus visibly gathers himself just as Athena's helmet clatters to the floor, and he gains a second wind immediately, eye twitching as he spreads a hand to the spectacle in the middle of the hall. "WHAT MANNER OF DISRESPECT IS THIS? TO BARGE INTO OUR MEETING AND THROW ONE OF THE OLDEST GODDESSES TO THE FLOOR LIKE A COMMON WENCH-"

"Zeus," Hera says quietly. Everyone falls silent, although it's not quite enough to stop the two tangled together on the ground. She clears her throat, which finally seems to get through to Athena, who had finally seemed to have gotten over her shock enough to reach out, hands hovering over Odysseus hesitantly. Still, at the noise she seems to remember herself, pushing herself up on an elbow and dislodging him enough to break their necking. He pouts at her, but Athena's eyes are too glazed over to notice, heaving for breath.

Hera opens her mouth to speak, crown manifesting on her brow as she steps in front of the throne, but closes it as the door rattles again.

This time, the spectre shimmers with a faint hint of scales that comes with a freshwater nymph's heritage and excited whispers starved for drama explode across the room as the Queen of Ithaka steps into the room, skirts hitched in her hand and panting as if she'd been running.

"Your Graces," She bows respectfully before entering, Spartan princess through and through, until she catches sight of her husband and Athena, the former of whom seems to have taken the opportunity to start kissing the wisdom goddess again, fingers in her curls.

"What are you doing?" She snaps, rushing over. The entire courtroom holds its breath. She slaps her husband upside the head, making him yelp and move back to shoot her a betrayed look. Athena looks even further dazed than before, cheeks red. "Argos has more manners than you! No wonder Lady Athena wanted nothing to do with you- ah, hello, darling, by the way."

"Penelope," Athena murmurs hoarsely, and the Queen of Ithaka leans down to kiss her as well.

Odysseus chuckles, then jumps with everyone else as Hera slams a hand down on the throne elegantly, cracking it to the base.

"Ah, goddess-" He says, clambering off Athena to bow.

"Silence," Hera interrupts, holding up a hand, eyes cold. "You will not say anything to me apart from an explanation. My agreement for your release from Ogygia was due to the assurance that your marriage was one of the truest I have ever witnessed, conveyed by Athena herself when bartered with all of us to let you go. Tell me, was it a ploy? Because from the disgraceful looks of it, this seems to not be the case in the slightest."

Odysseus frowns, face twisting in confusion. "Athena bartered with...?" He turns to look at his patron, who stares back, unspeaking. His eyes flicker to the lightning scar over her right eye as Penelope traces it with horrified eyes and a gentle thumb, and understanding seems to dawn.

For a moment, rage seems to fill him, glaring with a hatred towards Zeus that everyone whispered later wasn't met by the god king with anger, but a flicker of remorse- before he visibly throws it away behind Athena's old smile and bows.

"God-queen," He says formally, gracefully. Hera twitches a bit, and they'll all talk later about how odd it was to so clearly see Athena's younger mannerisms in the man, down to the curl of the letters. "My marriage to Penelope has never been false, never been broken, this I promise you." He takes Penelope's hand and squeezes it for emphasis, and she raises them as acknowledgement. "But... can you not argue that Athena has been part of our marriage all this time? From its start, where she advised me on courting and her on what to look for, to the twenty years she spent with both of us- me on the battlefield and Penelope in the court; to say nothing of how she helped raise our son and lived in our palace in the days after. And is she not so unbearably beautiful that even my Penelope couldn't wait-" He shoots a glare at her, which Penelope returns with a smile. "-when the chance was presented? How can you fault us for disgrace, after being so long apart from our wife?"

Hera raises both eyebrows at the impudence, the kind of disbelieving expression that hides a warning to tread carefully. "So you claim to be both married to Pallas Athena?"

"In every way that matters except legality," Odysseus says, fearlessly. He is dead, after all, what much can you do to a shade that they didn't already put him through when alive. He is sort of worried about Athena, though, as they both help her back to her feet, Penelope busy whispering compliments and updates and endearments in turn- she's not usually one to be quiet in face of a problem.

Hera tilts her head. "Ah, but you see. I need the legality, if I am to finally-" A helpless, excited smile pulls at her lips once, twice, before unfolding into a bright grin, peacock tails unfolding to their full wingspan. "-finally arrange for a marriage for my eldest daughter who has not once- oh finally, I can hardly believe this day has come-"

"I do not like the way you grabbed her, Sacker of Troy," Ares steps forward as Hera starts ranting half to herself, half to an equally loud assemblage of joyful entities about wedding arrangements, eyes narrowed.

Odysseus barks an incredulous, loud laugh, gesturing to Athena with a slightly crazed look in his eyes. "This lady has broken- and I do not exaggerate- every single bone in my body before I saw my sixteenth year. I have punched her a hundred times in the face when she taught me how to fight. We'll survive, thanks."

"That is fair," Ares steps back, hands raised.

"What duties will you provide as spouses, Ithakan Queen?" Hestia questions, stepping forward.

"Oh, the same we did when we were living," Penelope huffs a laugh. "Keep her busy, make her laugh, be of mild frustration to her, love her well, worship her-"

"I do not. Need to know," Hestia closes her eyes and raises a hand to cut her off, stepping back. Around them, the din catches speed and volume as no further objections arise, excitement spilling into the air.

"What is happening?" Athena says faintly, looking around as if she was just waking up.

"-oh, and we can get out the decor once more! Hebe, Aphrodite, loves, do you remember where we kept the fountains-"

"-finally, a reason to celebrate! Call them all out of hiding-"

"-can't believe this is finally happening, oh sister, what songs should we-

"Why am I getting married," Athena says with much more alarm and horror. She turns to Odysseus and shakes him by the shoulder, eyes wild. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!"

"How is this nothing? Do you have any idea the headache-"

"Athena, sweetheart, will you consider changing into that beautiful piece you made for the ceremony?"

Creakily, she turns her head to Hera, disbelief pasted across her face. "Mother," She says slowly. "They are both dead."

"Oh, I'll make a deal with Hades or something, you hush!" Aphrodite leans forward and snaps, before her irritation melts back into a manic joy. "Oh, what paint shall we do?"

Paint, Athena mouths, looking afraid for possibly the first time since her conception.

Penelope laughs and tugs on Athena's hand to make her turn, tucking dishevelled curls behind her ear. She wonders if the goddess knows how beautiful she is when she's flustered. "Take us away," She whispers. On Athena's other side, Odysseus leans against their patron with a besotted, helpless smile as he stares up at her, her helmet and spear in hand. She'd missed Athena like a limb, missed her deep laugh at night when they'd discussed the day's court, the dry jokes, the hands over hers as she weaved- but Odysseus wasn't himself without her, happy though they were in Hades' lands together, all of them.

"I'm-" Athena wavers, then looks around once more at all the excited screaming, something unreadable flashing in her eyes. Almost against her will, her eyes fall to Zeus, who is sitting silently and staring back at her. Poseidon looks like he still wants to start a fight, but clearly by his wary looks below can tell he will be heavily outnumbered by the overexcited crowd to not try, but Zeus just stares back at her, face blank of any emotion.

"We ask you formally this time," King Odysseus says, walking in front of her to take her attention away, holding onto her hand. His voice has strength in it, drawing the eyes of the murmuring crowd, but he's deaf to it as he stares up at her.

"Will you be our wife?" Queen Penelope asks, joining him, watching their beautiful patron shudder for breath she does not need as her eyes flick to one of them and then the other.

"Yes," She whispers and cheers erupt all across Mount Olympus.

"Finally!" Odysseus complains, and then pulls her down once more to kiss her, all three of them fading at the edges as one of the generous gods present there- who seems to realize that they're not very inclined to stop anytime soon- thankfully teleports them away into a nice room with a large bed.

"Finally," He whispers as he breaks apart to lay her down, cupping her face, voice heavy with the longing of a full lifetime and more. Penelope circles to the head of the bed and starts undoing Athena's braid, staring at them both lovingly.

Later the ones closest will murmur, as the silhouettes faded away, that tears had slipped from proud Pallas Athena's eyes as she placed one hand against Odysseus' cheek, trembling.

"I missed you," She will whisper back, and all three of them fade away to their own story, yet to be made.

[charlotte-family-apologist]

can i request some takeda and kenshi bonding for the heart 😔💗

Trying to bond with your estranged dad over lunch but he keeps dropping wild lore

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck i forgot an episode of monster next door included a tarantula

*moves the show to the monitor on my right and closes that eye too*

[chainsawl]

[ ID: A tumblr post by @/fox-guardian reading "he's a sweetheart he's a bitch he's just a little guy he's so very powerful he's the kindest of souls he's SO rude he means everything to me". Below it there is a transparent png of bmo adventure time with multiple red arrows pointing at them. End ID ]

[renegadeknight]

ooooo so interested in Treacherous!!

Okay this one is still very much an outline/mess of notes so I don't have any snips to share and it's probably the one I'm most shy about, idk why exactly, just feels like it would be less interesting to other people, so I'm just vibing by myself lol.

Anyway! It is an Anna!Lives AU where she ends up as a FEDRA lab rat for ~10 years and escapes right after Marlene finds and sends Ellie off with the fireflies. So then Joel and Tess take Anna to try to catch up at the state house but they miss them. Tess still gets bit (sorry) and then it follows Joel and Anna across the country to try to track down Ellie and as they spend more time together Anna keeps telling him more and more about little Ellie from when they were together a few years before they got separated. By the time they catch up to Ellie, Joel's ready to level the hospital for a kid he hasn't even met, and her mother.

Fun fact, I actually mentioned this one in an earlier chapter of Stubborn Love. It's one of the books Ellie gets at the library 😁

Thank you for the ask!

[inloveanddepth]

love these guys

[casimania]

I've replayed the whole trilogy with mods for the first time. Like it so far because I'm boring and I like playing Sheploo with some little tweaks (I like the scars and glowy eyes right before they're maxed out and making them blue cause everything else about him is red), also the couple extra clothes for a few characters

[fated-normal-767]

I cannot get the idea of Kronos going full web avatar out of my head . Y’know how Neil Lagorio had a weird thing for being controlled ? I think Kronos would be a bit like that . Mainly I just keep thinking about his statement, from years ago, ending with something ominous like:

“It was at that single moment, my heart in the very hands of divinity itself, that I realized the freedom that came with being controlled .

Here, let me show you.”

Because I just think it would be cool if he was a bit badass and also because . I just think him seeing the web as something that’s good is also in character . And also also because I feel like it’s something Kronos wouldn’t usually say . And I do love when the inherently worse option for everyone else is better for the person making it . Like yeah, Kronos going around feeding people and their free will to the web? Not cool . Kronos finally feeling confident and free ? Amazing news . Anyways yeah cannot stop thinking about that guy I love him so much .

Yes❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️ clinging to power by fundamentally deciding to give it up. you understand. he sees something more powerful than anything he could imagine and just knows that if he becomes a part of it, he’ll have some form of power too. Hm. Thinks about this thinks about this thinks about.

[brutalmasks]

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

Special Address by the President on the Day of the Armed Forces of Ukraine

December 6. 7 a.m. The Day of the Armed Forces of Ukraine. A day of the strong. A day of the brave. A day of the unbreakable. Men and women. Warriors. Heroes.

All those who continue to defend the state. And all those who gave their lives not to give up Ukraine. And right now I am heading to the Wall of Remembrance. Many people know where it is, many have been there. And for those who haven't been yet, it's worth going. To see the faces of our heroes. To look into their eyes. And just be silent. And in that silence, to reflect. To remember. To comprehend. To compare this morning with the morning 651 days ago. How loud it was. And how fearful it was for many. But fear was defeated. And now everyone has heard about us. How tough it was back then, but now we're not ashamed.

To recall what we could have lost and what we have preserved. Knowing exactly who made it possible. For the sake of what exactly. Knowing what exactly we are all defending. We're defending our own. We're defending what's ours.

And today, most of us have the opportunity to live and work in our cities. Walk along our streets. Not Kirova Street, by the way, but Hrushevskoho Street. Yes. For almost two years now, there have been checkpoints and fortifications here. Hedgehogs. But they're our hedgehogs, not someone else's jackals.

Those who naively believed that it could be different. That three days would be enough, that it would go their way. But we have those who have proven and continue to prove: it will be our way. They prove it every day. Those who are fighting for our freedom. On the frontline, in trenches, tanks, aircraft. In all branches of our forces, in all our brigades. In our east, in our south, in our north. Throughout our Ukraine. Those who are fighting on the front and defending our peaceful regions.

And now I am walking through the capital of our beautiful country, not someone's guberniya within someone's empire. I'm walking from the Office of the President of Ukraine, not someone else's gauleiter. Ahead of us is the European Square, where our blue and yellow flags fly, not tricolors. Ahead is St. Volodymyr's Hill. In honor of our great prince, not their petty czar.

And such moments inspire a lot of thoughts, you draw a lot of conclusions. You recall what is behind us and know what lies ahead. Behind is the daily struggle for the temporarily occupied territories. The liberation of these territories is ahead. How else could it be? These are our lands, these are our people. Is there an alternative? No, there is not. Nine years and 651 days of war are behind us. Victory is ahead. How else could it be? Is there any alternative? We all know there is not.

And nearby we see the beautiful Dynamo Stadium. And one day, fans will return here and to all stadiums in Ukraine. Thousands of them are now in the ranks of the Armed Forces. They are fighting for what is ours. Like everyone who did not allow the occupier to parade here. And that's why there are monuments to ours nearby. To our Chornovil. Our Lobanovskyi... Monuments to our prominent figures.

It's a little cold outside, but my heart is warm. It's slippery, but I know we'll make it. In every sense. Because I know that we are actually walking together. It was hard, but we endured. It's not easy now, but we are progressing. No matter how difficult it may be, we will get there. To our borders, to our people. To our peace. A just peace. A free peace. Against all odds. Together with you. And thanks to you, our people, our Armed Forces of Ukraine.

I congratulate all of you on your professional holiday.

Today there is only one expression – "well done". There is only one emotion – gratitude. And there is only one wish – victory. Commanders, please take care of your soldiers. Take care of yourself, be true to yourself. Congratulations on the Day of the Armed Forces of Ukraine!

And let us remember: St. Nicholas the Wonderworker will come to those who behaved well. To those who behaved despicably, the Armed Forces of Ukraine will come. The creators of justice.

Well... I'm almost there, in a few minutes I'll reach the Wall of Remembrance. The memorial wall in honor of our heroes. I am sure that for each of us, it will be a reminder and will serve as a wall for our spirit. A wall that fear, despondency, despair, discord, or the thought of giving up won't break through. We are strong. We are the wall. We stand.

To defend our land. To protect our people. To achieve victory. Glory to all our warriors, glory to our Armed Forces!

Glory to Ukraine!