wayward (grand)daughter 2

The weather was clear and the stars were out as Riven made her way out of the Fortemps manor. Nodding to the guards on duty, she made her way over to the railing. No one was around to gasp--she was clad in only the thick warm nightgown that was her favorite whenever she was in the city.

Scandalous, that. Showing clavicle and neck. Riven exhaled, leaning on the railing. Closing her eyes, she let the icy chill wash over her-and smiled at the faint gust of air behind her.

"Hi, you."

"You should be in bed." Estinien rumbled. He moved closer, bowing his head to press a kiss to Riven's cheek.

"Couldn't sleep." Riven replied. Estinien watched as she turned to face him, a pensive look on her features.

"I'm...sorry, for what happened. I didn't mean to cause everyone to worry."

"Just don't do it again." Estinien scolded gently. "At least...when it comes to that." That being Mikoto's continued experiments with the Bojzan crystals. A suggestion from Zoisette regarding Riven's memory problems had the brunette revisiting the auri at the Bojzan Resistance Headquarters. When Riven had undergone the procedure to see what the possible problem was...it had ended badly. Mikoto and Mathye daring to venture into Riven's psyche had resulted in her suffering a seizure-like reaction. The two had stopped, and Mathye immediately put his foot down on any more attempts. However Riven had pleaded with Mikoto for one more try--which had yielded even stranger results. Riven had some memories of her childhood-but found it hard to remember her parents' faces. But when it seemingly came to her teenage years--she couldn't remember anything at all, and attempting to with Mikoto's method had triggered the reaction.

Mathye had been less than pleased.

"Not in a hurry, trust me." Riven mummured. She laid her hands on Estinien's chest, curling and uncurling her fingers. Anxiety rose from her in waves, and Estinien frowned.

"Hey." He whispered, catching her hands. Partly to soothe, but also to keep Riven from hyperfocusing on her fingers--a trauma response from her time in the First.

"What's wrong?" Riven didn't immediately respond, drawing in a deep lungful of cold Ishgard air.

"My first two weeks in Limsa...I would wake up from nightmares, every night." She began. "Something...faceless. Formless, reaching out for me. I felt as if I was under attack. Sometimes...I felt trapped. I wanted to go outside...feel the sun, but I couldn't. Something was stopping me." Estinien listened, his own fingers beginning to gently stroke Riven's hands.

"I'd cry. I'd wake up crying--or just burst into tears at random times. Loud noises scared me. And no matter how hard I racked my brain...I couldn't figure out why."

"You were getting used to being someplace safe." Estinien mused. Riven nodded.

"I..was at my wits end. I'd just gotten into the Arcanists' Guild, setting up my housing situation--and this was just...it felt like I had too much on my plate. So I told myself that I was going to figure this out, starting with me finding out just where I came from on the ferry. And then..." Riven trailed off.

"Then?" Estinien prompted. A picture was forming in his own mind--one that made him want to curl his lip and growl, the thought of Riven hurting and alone in a new city...and dealing with trauma recovery. The midlander swallowed.

"...Have you ever had moments where it seems like...the gods, or the universe, or...whatever you believe in, is sending a pointed message about your situation?" She asked, looking up. Estinien hummed, letting go of Riven's hands to wrap his arms around her.

"Aye. Probably the one I remember the most is when I decided to take up the mantle of Azure." He answered. "Everything in that moment seemed seemed crystal clear. That I'd picked the right path." Riven exhaled, feeling the tension slowly bleed out of her. Estinien's presence was warm and comforting, his aether coiling around her senses.

"The day before, I'd gone to pay my respects at a shrine of the Navigator. There was a mother and her child there with an old woman." She said. "I didn't hear all of the conversation, but I heard a little bit from the old woman."

Llymlaen grants second chances. The sea and the wind let you become new once more.

"That stuck in my head." Riven whispered. "The next day, I went to the ferry-docks, and I found out about the fire. And I remembered the words of the old woman, and..."

"You felt it was a sign." Estinien finished. "The goddess telling you not to look back." Riven nodded.

"I took it to heart. I left, and I threw myself into the Arcanists' Guild. The nightmares eventually stopped, as did the tears, and soon it seemed like my past wasn't important. The rest..." She shrugged. "You know." Estinien hummed, moving his hands to Riven's shoulders.

"For the record, I feel I should add to the growing consensus." He said, moving his hands to gently cradle Riven's face.

"Whatever thing happened in your past--whatever you might have done, it does not matter now. It does not matter to the Scions, it does not matter to Augustine and the others, it does not matter to the Fortemps. It does not matter to the hundreds and thousands of lives you have saved." Tears sprang to Riven's eyes, and Estinien continued.

"And it does not matter to me." He finished, pressing a gentle kiss to the midlander's forehead. "It is the sharp-tongued, demon-summoning madwoman that I fell in love with. To her past self, battered and bruised from whatever hell she escaped from, I bid that she only rests in comfort and peace."

-----

wayward (grand)daughter 1 here

| Olivier Awards red carpet, 2024 vs. Good Omens season 1 red carpet, 2019.

[mild tw for marital rape/forced 'consent' its only referenced a little, but it feels necessary to mention it]

imagine Alicent only standing up for herself when Aegon is in the picture. Imagine her talking her son to her chambers cause he's fussy and won't go down for bed and was asking for his mum, and she has him tucked close, blissfully asleep, and Viserys calls for her.

she knows she can't refuse, but she tells the servant he had sent to make him aware of Aegon's state. he still demands that she be brought to his chambers and that the babe go back to his nursemaid. she looks down at her baby, who's now woken due to the disturbance, who is staring up at her with soft tired eyes, a little yawn escaping him.

she doesn't want to go, she doesn't want to be forced to take her husband, to pleasure him at her own discomfort. she doesn't want to leave her son, to have him sent back to bed where he will remain restless and in the care of someone who is not his mother. she had never want to refuse more than she did in that moment.

she hesitates, her facade falters. Aegon is still looking up at her as tears well up in her eyes. he quirks his head at her, fingers reaching for her cheeks as if to comfort her. with a sudden conviction, she takes him in her arms, rising from the bed, requesting a robe and a blanket. when her servant looks at her in question, she clarifies that she will be taking Aegon with her and does not wish to rouse him in attempts to dress him. they look at her with shock, but don't voice the concern written on their faces.

they bring her Viserys's favorite robe. Alicent recognizes it from her time with Rhaenyra and Aemma. she's worn it before, Viserys has made sure the servants bring it to her every time he requests her. she hates the way it feels against her skin, knowing why he makes her wear it. she wraps aegon in his blanket, soft and royal blue, his hands beginning to play with its golden tassles as she tucks him inside her robe, pressed to her chest with care.

even as fear bites at her heels, anxiety churning her stomach, she walks to Viserys's chamber with her held high. she knows she is only asking for her husband's wrath; she knows she should just obey him, but she just can't. her son will not suffer a sleepless night and horrid following day all because her husband feels the need to use her body once more. he will not suffer at his father's hands tonight, even if she has to endure Viserys's anger for it.

she enters her husband's chambers, finding him in bed, in a white night gown, clearly ready to use her; he was never subtle when he asked for her, not even the first time.

she pauses in the doorway, pulling back the robe slightly, making him aware of Aegon's presence. she watches his face fall, barely muted anger. she holds onto Aegon tighter. part of her fears he may hurt her for this disturbance, but more of her fears he will hurt Aegon on her behalf.

"I told the damned servants to take him," his voice is warped and cruel, just an angry scowl of sorts.

"Aegon is not well, dear husband... I could not leave him," she admits before he can say anything else. she puts her foot forward as a mother, hoping to claim mercy from the man who made her one.

he mutters something in response, not quite loud enough for her to hear. she has a feeling she is grateful for that.

"what was it you needed, my dear?" she tries to sound sweet and kind, in attempts to abate his anger, "I'm sure I could still attend to it."

"you know what I wanted," he yelled. it had been the first time he'd truly raised his voice to her. she couldn't help but gasp, stepping back one step, than two, stopping when Aegon began to fuss, curling around him instead.

"Please Viserys, the baby." she ducks her head down to press her against his whispy white hair. her son his huffing, as if about to cry, and she's sure if she could see his face, his little cheeks would be red and his eyes would be crinkled and wet, his lip puckered. she begins to rock him slightly, still afraid to move.

"your'e dismissed," he grunts, but his tone gives it away. she knows he doesn't mean it, the if she leaves she will be in more trouble. she questions staying, calling a servant to take Aegon and giving him what he wants, but decides against it. he would not come before her son, not now, not ever.

"I'm sorry, my dear, another night, when I do not have Aegon to tend to," she forces some cheer into her tone, "he is still so young, so helpless. he needs his mother. I'm sure you understand?"

"he is not the only one in need of you." he had not lost his anger yet. not even for the sake of his son.

"yes, of course. forgive me. only he is not as understanding as you, my love." that wasn't the truth, Aegon was more kind and understanding at a year old, than viserys was in all of his years. "I will leave now. I am sorry for the disturbance."

she pauses for a moment, waiting for her husbands reaction. when he doesn't lash out at her, she breathes a quiet sigh of relief, feeling as though she has evaded a great beast. her heart calms in her chest, slowing from its fluttering and her stomachs stops its dizzing ache. she questions turning and running, fleeing from his presence before he can change his mind, but knows better.

she hurries to his side, eyeing him all the while, each step calculated, avoiding cracking any eggshells, until she is close enough to kiss his cheek. he allows it, and gives Aegon grace when he reaches out for him, letting him play with his finger a moment, before pulling it away, not even turning away fully before sneering. she takes that as her cue to leave, this one being much more genuine than the last.

"goodnight dear husband." he says nothing. she takes Aegon's little hand, waving it slightly, "say goodnight Aegon."

her son tries to imitate her, though unintelligible, as a toddler would. she continues to smile and coo at him even when his father ignores him, not letting him feel his father's scorn, quickly turning towards the door and back to her own chambers.

the second the door is close she feels herself sag, she would have fallen to the floor right then and there had there not been kingsgaurd watching. instead she holds her head high once more, walking calm and steady, like a queen should.

Aegon settles his forehead against her collar, giving a great yawn against her skin. she smiles at him fondly, kissing his brow, earning a tired little giggle from him. it hits her that he is unaware of the trouble he just saved her from. she feels equal parts relief as she does terror; she hopes he never knows, never understands, but is so so thankful for it none the less.

the second she steps into her chambers she pulls of the robe, setting it aside carefully despite the pain it brings her, respecting the memories it carried. she pulls back the covers before smothering her and her son amongst them. he's quick to curl against her, quite tuckered out after their harrowing adventure, even if he was unaware of its true weight. she herself still wanted to cry, but was similarly too tired to keep her eyes open for another moment. tomorrow, she tells herself, tomorrow will be difficult, but tonight you have your son, tonight you have a chance to rest.

so she does, she holds him close, tracing fingers over the gold threaded patterned of his blanket, feeling the shifting of his chest as he breathes and the tickle of his hair against her neck. all is well in that moment. she drifts to sleep at the thought.

I like them a normal amount

THE BEST OF SHENKO 1/?

The end of the world has a way of reminding you of all the things you forgot to say do. Mass Effect: Legendary Edition (2021)

Toddlers who say slurs

the thing that gets me about Paul is that he was just a boy. A boy who studies documentaries for fun, who is so fascinated by cultures, who names himself after a desert mouse. He doesn't want to lead, he damns his mother for having made him a "freak" by deciding his future for him as a Bene Gesserit, he is terrified of people starting a holy war in his name

and yet

So many things fall into place, and he changes with them, and he takes the decisions that turn him into Lisan Al-Gaib, and suddenly he abuses the people he used to love.

I was ROOTING FOR HIM and I BELIEVED IN HIM because I thought he could do it, I really thought he could live, but now? Paul has lost his humanity and that hurts me more than anything.

<pictured: the exact moment i fell in love with Alex + the exact moment I fell in love with Henry>

Moment of silence for the people starting gtn (after reading my comic) because I accidentally tricked them into thinking Gideon and Harrow have healthy communication skills and Domestic Intimacy when they do, in fact, have neither

have you ever thought about yandere geto more specifically yandere CULT geto. cus i do. quite often.

HI ANON hmmm hm hm………… okay so honestly. i’m not super into yanderes at all so i don’t know if i’ll have much to contribute with when it comes to this kinda thing :’3 bUT i do love cult leader!geto to the moon and back + i’ve been thinking of him incessantly lately + i think he’s only a couple steps away from being a yan lol.

geto’s whole Thing is his contrast; he can kill a man swiftly, cruelly, only to go meet his beloved family right after with a genuine smile on his face. (we see that almost instantly in jjk 0!!) he really does have that cruel / soft contrast that i assume a bunch of yan content is built on…. he would treasure his beloved soooo dearly and i absolutely don’t think he’d shy away from killing any non-sorcerers that were giving them trouble… but again!! this isn’t even yan!geto, this is literally just Geto. that’s just how he is in canon 😭😭 he’s willing to go to any lenghts to protect his loved ones, and his own morals are aligned towards his view of non-sorcerers as non-human. he doesn’t see them as human, so why would he feel guilty for killing them?

but ok so to kinda go back to the idea of yan!geto… i think the biggest difference between him and yan!gojo (imo!!) is that gojo is willing to look past his morals to keep you safe, knowing that it’s Wrong but choosing not to care, while geto doesn’t let go of his morals — instead, he twists them until they align with what he’s doing. if that makes sense. to him, doing what he does for you is morally just. so he doesn’t feel shame or guilt for it.

aaaaand this is also why i don’t really feel Equipped to talk abt him….. because yan!geto would probably be a lot Worse than yan!gojo …….. and i’m embarrassingly sensitive to dark content :’3 i can see the appeal and the yan undertones are absolutely There but i think i see cult leader!geto in a very moe light PHJEHSJD he’s… my meowmeow. he can do no wrong. he hasn’t had a single evil thought in his Life <33

SOO to change the subject rq!!!!! kind of!!!! (i’m sorry anon i’ve just been thinking abt more fluffy scenarios w him lately and i need an outlet </3) i genuinely think cult leader geto!would be such a great lover :(( it’s easy to see him as a yan (AND THERE’S ABSOLUTELY NOTHING WRONG W THAT TO BE CLEAR) but i just . genuinely think he would be sooo gentle and loving and silly? protective and possessive and imposing, sure, but he would honestly rather die than hurt you in any way. i don’t think his soul could take it.

like. it’s just so telling that geto canonically lets his family believe what they want, and do what they want; he doesn’t force them to see non-sorcerers the same way he does, he doesn’t keep nanako & mimiko from exploring the world and interacting w non-sorcerers, and so on!! his own beliefs are steadfast, but he doesn’t use them as an excuse to confine the people he cares for. he trusts them and loves them and even though i’m sure he’s paranoid he lets them run free.

so!! i think he would be very patient and accepting no matter what his s/o believed or did. i can see him being a bit a Lot of a helicopter parent but it’s never malicious, it’s just for safety purposes!! he just couldn’t bear to have anything happen to you </3 cult leader!geto is cynical and cautious and he isn’t taking any chances when it comes to your safety. but!! he’s still so silly and doting and i think he’s just so sweet…. 🥺🥺 i’m writing the outline for a fic rn where his s/o works at a regular preschool and he hates interacting with your coworkers in any capacity but he still does it to make u happy … yk??? like how he went with his girls to eat crepes in jjk 0. he just wants to give and give. our acts of service king <333

overall i see cult leader!geto as someone who hides his inherent softness behind a dark exterior, and while he’s far more willing to be cruel than hs suguru was, he never really changed at his core!! he’s just overflowing with softness and care. we see this so clearly in the scene where he’s alone with nanamimi, his girls, and everything is soft and quiet and geto is completely unguarded. and he’s so, so soft. his softness doesn’t even have a twisted hint to it, he just loves you. and he wants the best for you. i think the horror would only come from seeing how quickly he goes from cooing into your ear to disposing of a non-sorcerer with a freezing look in his eyes; the whiplash is scary. but if it scared his s/o i think he’d be hell-bent on not letting you see him like that unless absolutely necessary.

it’s difficult because so much of his character in this stage of his life has to do with cruelty, but all he truly wants at his core is to create a world where his loved ones will be happy :(( where he can protect them properly. idk i just can’t really see cult leader!geto as toxic at the end of the day….. he’s a puppydog to me. a foxcoded, silly little guy. despite his cult leader / genocide loving tendencies i think he would be a very soft, selfless lover <333 overwhelmingly devoted. the weight of his devotion could honestly be frightening and i feel like he could be sweet in a kind of twisted way (something like this) but at the end of the day he’s very particular about only showing you his soft side.

THOSE ARE MY SPONTANEOUS THOUGHTS i’m sorry they weren’t too focused on yan!geto anon :’3 but i hope u got some enjoyment out of them anyway!!! if u have any thoughts of ur own then i’d absolutely love to hear em <33

| NTAs red carpet 2021 vs. Pride of Britain red carpet, 2023.

You can't save everyone. Why not?

I just love the way he closes his eyes and gets lost in the moment of pleasure . Like yes please keep going never stop.

The softness...that scene does things to my lil heart.

reblog and put in the tags whether youre team “soft quiet hesitant confession and first kiss” or team “dramatic angsty fight and impulsive confession and first kiss” for byler

My submission for Readers Create game!

Title: Golden Hour

Prompts: Sunlight and Summer

Summary: A stolen afternoon.

Warnings: Explicit smut, kissing, cuddling, handjobs, orgasms, cunnilingus, dirty talk, fluff, sleepy Yoongi, ethereal Yoongi, reader in her feels, internal dialogue, teeny tiny angst, honestly I can't decide if this is fluffy smut or smutty fluff 😅

Word count: 641

Note: *Nervous huff* I feel so lucky to be able to contribute in some tiny humble way to the body of work that is this legendary story. I tried to lean way into the prompts and do something in my own way that hopefully, while under a different lens (?) still translated these lovely characters as our beloved author-nim intended them. I'm so scared to submit, but also so excited to have been given this gem of an opportunity. Thank you so much, Ryen, for opening this up - I had a blast!! 💖

______________________________________________________

You were bent over on the bed, the hoodie you were wearing - his - was pooling around the top half of your torso, it's warmth contrasting deliciously with the cool air hitting the rest of your otherwise naked body. You let out a shuddering sigh, digging your fingers into fleece lining that was not nearly as soft as the tongue sliding languidly up and down your labia. It was almost too warm for second layers, but his window was open and a breeze was wafting through the room. You could hear the chirp of the birds and the tinkle of a windchime as his lips found your clit and suckled. 

"Yoongi…" Your voice was softer than usual, even as you whined his name.

Everything was softer.

He was softer.

He hummed in response against your sex, devouring you with a leisure befitting a stolen afternoon.

    You had just come over to return something he had left at yours. When he had answered the door with mop of lovely mussed hair and a white tee and sweatpants, it had been immediately apparent that you had awakened him from a nap. When you had apologized and begged off he had grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into him, his lips skimming your temple. You had protested weakly, insisting that your brother would be home from work in a couple of hours and that it was your dinner night and other nonsense you secretly hoped he would ignore. He had said nothing, but had tugged you along and down into bed with him, pulling you against him greedily and nuzzling into your neck with a smug, if sleepy, grin, as if he know all along that you never meant to leave. The moment your bodies had fitted together in that way they always did, any thought of departure, or cooking obligations, or complicated consequences left your mind entirely. Yoongi, his warmth, his comfort, the butterflies in your stomach and the peace in your heart were all you could fathom. You had drifted off, then awoke to little kisses across your cheek. His hair was curling around his face, longer than usual recently (you knew it wouldn't last, he always changed his hair), and the light from the window behind him and spilling into the room around him made him look angelic. Demon that he usually was, his dark eyes so often full of hunger as he leaned over you, this visage of him took your breathe away. Unfair. "Hustler?" he had murmured in question to your staring, his voice gravely from sleep. You didn't answer, not with words - there was a golden spell hanging in the air, one you thought might shatter if you spoke above a whisper, so, you kissed him. You him kissed unhurriedly, in all the sorts of ways you had ever wanted to, just feeling his mouth move against your own. At some point you had pulled his pretty cock out of his pants started stroking it until he had cum, shaking and cursing softly, against your shirt. 

    That's how you had ended up in his hoodie, bent over, with his tongue inside you. You were so hazy with the decadent lust of the moment that you could barely hear his mummers against your sopping flesh. He was calling you 'doll'. He was cursing sweetly. He was lewdly and perfectly praising you. With a soft cry you came against his mouth, your orgasm dragging out sweet and long like a spool of honey as his lips continued to purr filth against your sex.

    An hour later you were on his doorstep. He was leaning against the frame and looking down at you. Warm eyes, small smile. No rain. Not this time. This time the sky was gold.

They say that nothing gold can stay, but maybe, just maybe…

-Fin-