#Spectral Constellations | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cod-imagines-fanfiction · 5 months

Text

Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend part 8 (5.3k words)

Summary: Valeria unsettles Y/N with her scheming during prison. Alejandro is the first to know about some disturbing news. Warnings: mentions the term "rape" but it doesn't happen in this fic!! It's just mentioned so a heads up. Also Valeria being kinda scary and toxic but like what's new. Also lesbian smut Note at the end Link to A03 Links to masterlist with all the parts

Valeria watched you sleep, your face softly illuminated by the moonlight that leaked through the casement window. The sounds of your soft breathing, watched as your chest moved up and down, as you burrowed your face to Valeria's side. Circumstances were grim at the moment, you'd been jailed for about a fortnight in less-than-ideal conditions. None of your normal luxuries were available, your favourite items; trinkets and creams, the beautiful things you liked to surround yourself with. And yet, you never complained, not even once. It was amazing how much women could adapt, Valeria thought. How they could mould themselves to survive under any conditions. Valeria thought you'd be complaining throughout your whole jail period, but you didn't. Not when the water turned cold in the showers, not at the filth that clung to these walls no matter how much they were scrubbed. You did not complain about the constant surveillance, the lack of space or how hard the bed was. Valeria knew that it was because you were kind and did not want to make her feel guilty. Valeria wasn't happy about these conditions either but a part of her enjoyed this more than she should be. The two of you were constantly together, it was more time than you spent together even back home. Without the interruptions of work, you clung close to each other like puppies in a litter. Valeria stroked your hair and looked up at the sky. It was full of stars, the facility was so far out in the country that there was no light pollution. Each star shone brightly, the sky was a map of blinking constellations and the occasional shooting star. Valeria closed her eyes and made a wish. When she opened them, she gazed at the moon. It was full to the brim, shining a light on all this darkness. Valeria felt the culmination of all her efforts. As the moon filled up in the sky, she counted down the days.

She thought back to the nights the two of you spent together when you first got together. When you'd run to the beach to see the moonlight glimmer on the water. A towel stretched beneath you, the two of you bathed beneath the moonlight, it shone on your skin and you glistened like a diamond. You looked beautiful, ethereal even. Like a creature that had emerged from the depths of the ocean, sweet and otherworldly, reaching the shore just to lure your love back to the water. If you were ever to enter the glistening water and entice Valeria to follow you, she knew she'd follow you to the deepest parts of the sea. Anything for you. Valeria felt the moon as a steady passage of time, she'd think of how much life changed since the last full moon. And now that she gazed down at you, she knew you were ready for your next part. You were unaware of what would happen, of course. Things would go back to the way they were before, with Valeria in charge of the business and the hard things. The bills, payments, money, property. And you could go back to your world of trinkets and beauty, to whatever wonderland existed within your mind. A wonderland that Valeria never wanted you to lose, a spectral place that she'd guard forever.

When morning came, you went through your current routine. Washing first, breakfast at the dinner area, and you were now taking your daily walk. It was a privilege Valeria had managed to extract from the management's claws. The two of you paced the courtyard, exercising your legs. Finally, you sat on a patch of sunlight, plucking at the dry weeds with your fingers and scattering the whispy remains into the air. "What's wrong, my love?" Valeria asked as she leaned against the wall, watching you. The wind carried the muffled yells of the men from their side of the courtyard, which was separated by a tall stone wall and barbed wire. It disturbed your peace. "Nothing," you mumbled and grabbed more weeds. Valeria took a big breath. She felt you enter one of your special moods, grumpy and touchy but ultimately attention-seeking. There were moments where, to her shock, you'd grow insecure or impatient. When you weren't getting something you wanted fast enough, or when a negative thought burrowed itself so deeply in your mind that you struggled to move on. "Having troubles in your little mind palace, princess?" Valeria cooed and pouted down at you. You looked up at her and frowned back. You returned to your weeds. "I want to go home." You said finally. It was the first time you'd expressed your displeasure. Guilt enveloped Valeria's heart and she tried to swallow it down. "I know, baby. I know." She said softly, looking away. "I'll get my period one of these days and I don't want to spend it here." You said and lay back on the grass. The sun shone on your face and your hair, and you glistened once more.

Valeria nodded and looked to the side where a guard stood, watching. She kept looking as the guard spoke to his radio and started making his way towards you. "If he tells us to go inside I'll start screaming," you said and turned to the side. You quietened down as the man approached. "Garza, you have a call." He said and looked at Valeria. She wanted to make him point out which of the two of you he meant since you'd taken Valeria's last name. But she knew it was petty and no one would make calls to you anyway. You stood up, alarmed. "Not you, you stay here till she comes back." He said and took Valeria with him. She waved back at you as she followed the man.

Valeria's hair had gotten slightly longer in the short time you'd been here. Her hair grew fast and thick, she needed regular trimmings and she maintained them religiously. You watched with enjoyment as her hair bounced to the side, it almost reached her shoulders. You tried imagining Valeria with long hair, she would look beautiful with it. But it wasn't her style, ultimately. As you saw her leave your line of sight, you wondered what she was up to. Probably scheming, she was always doing that. You thought back to your girlhood and what you'd imagine your future husband to be like. It was a husband because anything else was unimaginable. It was always a faceless man, a blank canvas where his face was. You'd tell your friends this was so because you were not shallow and did not care what he looked like. But really, it was because you couldn't think of him as real. No face would fit him, you just knew you were meant to look forward to this man, even though you could never see him standing next to you. You smiled at yourself, thinking of how your ideal husband was a wife. For the first time, you understood what people meant when they said that home was not a place, but a person.

You didn't know what had happened during Valeria's call, but she was in an ecstatic mood when she returned to you. There was a perpetual grin on her face and her eyes glistened with satisfaction for the rest of the day. Later, deep into the night when the prison was 'closed' for the day, she could no longer keep it to herself. Her elated mood was obvious from the rigour of her lovemaking. She fervently kissed your breasts, tugging at them with her hands, cupping them tightly and squeezing almost till they hurt. She left bite marks on your skin and hickeys on the sensitive spots that made you squirm. You tried keeping quiet throughout all these, biting your lower lip to suppress your moans from escaping. Valeria's fingers worked on you sweetly, caressing your wetness. She'd cover your mouth with hers when her touches made it impossible to keep quiet. Your cry of pleasure was muffled and safe in her mouth, where she'd lick and bite, unrelenting with her fervent passion. You came on her hand, her curled finger was still inside you when she whispered, "We're getting out." You blinked slowly, your lips red and pouty, your body still reeling from your orgasm. "Really?" You asked quietly. Valeria kissed you again. "Yes, my love." She said. "Is that what the call was about?" You asked and put your head on her shoulder. You caressed Valeria's chest, wanting to reciprocate. "Yes. But promise me one thing, Y/N."

You looked up at her. Valeria's cheeks were flushed, her mouth slightly agape and her lips glistened like rubies. "Whatever happens, don't ask any questions. You don't have to do anything. Just don't ask anything." You were acutely aware that her fingers were still inside of you as she started very slowly pulling them out and then reinserting them. It made you hum lightly and twitch from the inside. You mumbled your assent. "Say it, Y/N." Valeria mumbled, her fingers moving faster. "Yes," you whispered and felt that warm, tingly ball of pleasure in your lower stomach tighten again. "Yes what, Y/N?" Valeria teased and brought her face close to yours, her lips almost touching yours, her eyes gazing down at your own. Valeria's fingers entered with more force and involuntarily, your legs spread further apart. Valeria licked her lips. "Yes, I will." You said, half-dazed, wondering if that's what she wanted to hear from you. You sensed that there was no right answer right now. Her fingers pumped faster. "Will what, Y/N?" "Whatever you want, Val." You squirmed and tossed your head back in pleasure. "Whatever I want?" Valeria asked very slowly, giving you a small peck on the mouth. You nodded vigorously, unable to use your voice.

"I want your silence, amor. I mean it." She said and ceased moving. You pouted in disappointment and moved your lower body for any scraps of pleasure, when Valeria suddenly placed both her hands on your hips, firmly. She stopped your movements. Something dark and cold flashed in her eyes then. The tenderness in your intimate moment was lost, as though you'd been gazing at the soft ripples of a river and the water suddenly turned black; contaminated. Valeria held tightly onto your hips. "I've done something terrible, Y/N." Her whisper was so low you almost missed it, her words vanishing as they left her lips. She kept looking at your eyes but unseeing, she was looking at something else in her mind. For the first time, you were frightened of her. Not afraid that she'd hurt you, but afraid of what she'd done to protect you. You knew Valeria was capable of many awful things, you knew she was capable of incredible violence and that she'd hurt a lot of people in her lifetime. Valeria's closeness with chaos never disturbed you, it was second nature to her and you were blindly accepting of it. All the terrible things she did never caught up with you. Until now, that is. You wondered that perhaps you'd grown too merciful of her. For the first time, you despaired at Valeria's intimacy with darkness, how it dwelled so naturally within her. How it would follow her wherever she went. "What did you do?" You asked with a frightened voice. Valeria tuned into your eyes again, feeling the undercurrent accusation beneath your words; it stung her.

"I did it for us," Valeria said with an emphasis on the last pronoun, a retort to your question. "You know I'd do anything for you, don't you? " Valeria nodded at you as she said this. The moon had moved from where it was when your lovemaking started earlier that night, it now barely illuminated half of Valeria's face. It created the eerie effect of seeing a half-formed person in front of you, someone eclipsed by shadows, a creature emerging from the darkness. She seemed almost like a ghoul crouching in front of you. You shook your head to dispel the frightful image from your mind. "You don't believe me?" Valeria's words sounded like a hiss in your ear, there was pain in her words. You realised how Valeria interpreted that slight shake of your head; your hands rose up to cup her face, it was cold. "Of course, I believe you." You said and pressed your lips to hers quickly, your heart hammered against your chest. You chided yourself for doubting her in your heart. It was true that darkness clung to Valeria like a sheet, but that was not all. There was love, too and where there was love there was fear. She was afraid to lose you - she'd already lost you when you were taken from her. And she would not lose you again. The worst things in this world were not done by bad people but by desperate people. And since this was all for you, how could you not cherish this? You continued pecking at her lips, mumbling sweet words to her. "Thank you for everything, baby. You know how much I love you, right?" Valeria mumbled something back and lightly returned your kisses; it was the beginning of your absolution. "Whatever it is, Val, you don't have to tell me. I won't ask about it, I promise." You said and lightly coaxed her to lie down on the bed. She gave in and slowly lowered herself, but her eyes never left yours. Her face was completely blank, you felt that she was cautious of you still. She would not forget your accusation so quickly, but she would soften in time. You knew how to do it, you'd done it many times before but each time stood on its own, separate from the others. You traversed foreign, unsafe waters each time, you felt.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious of your nakedness, you reached for your shirt but Valeria got to it first. She tossed it away and shook her head at you, her eyes burned into yours and she placed you on top of her so that you were straddling her. You almost smiled to yourself about what was to come. This is (almost) how you always redeemed yourself when you'd done something to trigger insecurity within your incredibly jealous wife. It was like the taming of a wild animal, your sensuality was in many ways your superpower when it came to Valeria. It made you glow from the inside. First, you'd look away from her shyly, as you did now. The ends of your lips tugged downwards into a soft pout. "I'm embarrassed, baby." You complained lightly and raised your hands so that they covered your nipples. Enough to recover your modesty but the space between your fingers teased her with glimpses of what was behind them. Valeria stared at your chest now, entranced. The softness of your skin, the curve of your silhouette, the loveliness of your mouth. The way your lashes fluttered like a butterfly as you looked at her and then away again So lovely, thought Valeria. The loveliest thing she'd ever had. Valeria's hand grabbed one of your hips and then travelled lower, the tips of her fingers touching your bare buttocks.

Absolution was bestowed on you after many caresses and kisses, your transgression was finally forgotten when Valeria finished. The two of you lay on the bed after, your bodies entangled and shiny with sweat. Many minutes passed like this, you watched as the moonlight left the room and you lay there, in the dark. The final pangs of orgasm faded, and silence hung in the air. Per your word, you remained silent on the matter but your curiosity gnawed at you from the inside. What was so terrible that could not be said? It was not something that would affect you, presumably. But it seemed to involve you, though not directly. It was well past your usual bedtime, but your mind would not quit. You feigned sleep but could feel that Valeria was awake next to you. No matter how terrible, the deed was done. It was all for your sake, after all. You thought back to all your years with Valeria, to all the casualties your love had created but that you pretended to not notice. The first casualty was Alejandro, who was cheated on and then abandoned. Then was your family as you just disappeared off the face of the earth, never to be seen or heard from again. Then there were all who'd died during Valeria's operations, all the people trambled on and double crossed to quench Valeria's thirst for money. Money that she swore would keep you safe, but hadn't. Then there were all the people killed recently during your kidnapping and then your liberation. There was a pile of bodies, both dead and alive, created just because you and Valeria wanted to be together. Yours was a selfish love, indeed. As you fell into an uneasy, guilt-ridden sleep, you wondered if that pile was to grow more.

-------------------------------------------------------

"Much has been written of love turning to hatred, of the heart growing cold with the death of love. It is a remarkable process. It is far more terrible than anything I have ever read about it, more terrible than anything I will ever be able to say." -from 'Giovanni's Room' by James Baldwin.

To be a man was not a given condition but a continuous effort, Alejandro believed. An effort that never stopped, it was a cup that needed to be constantly refilled as though there was a hidden leak. It was a condition that needed to be reinforced regularly. It took a lot to be a real man; hardened and unyielding. It was easy to be a man in front of women, you only had to be male. But to be a man in the company of other men meant to be singular. A real man had presence; he was the one barking orders and calling the shots, the one who made others avert their gaze when their eyes met. A real man changed a room when he stepped into it. A real man could outdrink and outlift his comrades. A real man was not fucked; he did the fucking. There was a hardness in his core that would never soften; rugged masculinity prevailed.

Alejandro's mind wandered on all these things and his accomplishments. He'd always dreamed of being the way he was now. A strong and feared leader of the Vaqueros, someone who ranked at the top of the Mexican Army. Someone who ran operations and succeeded. A man who got the job done. Masculinity was the armour he covered himself with when existing in the world, it was how he let others know he wanted to be treated - with respect. Not the respect that every person was owed, but the respect of a superior. And yet he never ceased to covet it, he always felt that he must reinforce his masculinity, to assert that he was a man. Alejandro had worked hard to make this happen. Blood, sweat and tears went into this work. It wasn't easy or natural for him. Sometimes, he wanted to give in to pain and desire so badly, to surrender control and indulge in what he really wanted. The foods he avoided because they would mess with his diet plan, the days of rest he craved but could not have because he worked out a lot to maintain his muscle. The touches he wanted to feel and deliver, but would never dare to. Because he was not soft enough to melt into love. He did not have the gentleness that was needed when handling women. And he was not sissy enough to dwell on the thoughts he had of other people. The intrusion of those images made him recoil in disgust when they materialised in his mind. No, none of these things would do. Because he was a man.

Alejandro looked at his reflection. He was in his dimly lit bathroom, touching his gruff beard, which was always trimmed but never cleaned-shaven. He could not stand the idea of having soft skin on his face, so he kept his appearance neat but not too fresh. His features were in no way soft, either. He had strong, intimidating dark eyes. The deep lines on his face - the marks of years gone by, the signification of his fast-approaching middle age - made him look experienced and yet, still, handsome. He brushed his hair roughly with his comb, no longer being gentle with his movements even though he still felt the remnants of pain from the injuries inflicted by Valeria. The savage slices on his wrists. Mentally, he was over it and he willed his body to do the same. Annoyingly, he'd been put on sick leave against his will immediately after Valeria's arrest. For his own good and recuperation, they said. Alejandro had sustained injuries, sure, but they were so minor and insignificant to him. It wasn't like he hadn't been injured before when answering the call of duty. He'd barely need anything more than some stitches and bandages. But no matter how vexed his protestations were, he could see that he was changed in his comrade's eyes and that he could not convince them that he was well enough to continue. As he walked around the headquarters, he noticed that soldiers could no longer meet his gaze. Their eyes darted to the side shamefully and with a jolt, he had realised it because they were ashamed of him. Over the course of this operation, he had become changed in their eyes; he was smaller, unreliable. Disgraced, he thought bitterly.

Alejandro's hands shook as he jolted the medicine cabinet open and reached for the white bottle containing his migraine medication. He shook the bottle and dropped two white, innocuous pills into his palm. He swallowed them dry, tasting their bitterness where they touched his tongue. He'd planned and executed this entire operation so quickly, he got them what they wanted! He said he would get Valeria and he did. He had achieved their goals, he ticked all the boxes. It was because of him that they were able to accomplish this mission! So how could they be so ungrateful? How dare they look down on him because he didn't go exactly by the book? It's not like he was the first to ignore some rules. Y/N wasn't the first (nor the last) civilian to be detained illegally. He didn't even touch her! He even expected Valeria's attack; she acted exactly how he thought she would, and he had let the 141 and Graves know this from the start. But now here he was, in his house in rural Mexico, under the guise of 'medical leave,' forced to take all the blame for the damage inflicted on the Mexican Army Headquarters. He returned the bottle to the cabinet and exited the bathroom.

He walked to his sparsely furnished living room with heavy steps, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath his feet. He sat down on his sofa and opened his laptop. He looked at the time; two minutes till his scheduled call with Laswell, perhaps his only ally at the moment. Laswell was strict about protocol but she and him shared the same vision and passion when it came to accomplishing their goals by any means necessary. No matter what strings needed to be pulled. He thought of Y/N for a moment, how frightened she was of him. He felt the memory like a hot iron. His breathing quickened and he felt that warm feeling he so often denied himself traverse across his body against his will. He tried to shake himself free of this feeling, these memories that kept pestering him when he least expected. The way she sat there so girlishly. She was a grown woman of course, almost as old as Valeria. And yet that youthful vitality clung to her like a wet flower petal. It was something about her wide-eyed gaze that made her emit this permanent girlhood. It made him hate Y/N even more, how she effortlessly proved her superiority to him. Her ungrazed beauty and distilled vitality set her apart from people like him. Who wouldn't commit adultery for her? And yet there was something warm floating in that sensation of hatred. Laswell started the video call and Y/N vanished from his mind.

"Buenos Dias, Laswell," he said. "Good morning, Colonel. How are you feeling?" She said. Alejandro noticed the trailing smoke of a cigarette floating behind her figure. The cigarette itself was concealed, but its smoke danced across the air freely. Alejandro felt the pit in his stomach harden. "Good, good. It's so nice and quiet here, away from everything. But I'm missing all the action." Alejandro noticed the tightness of Laswell's polite smile. She wasn't someone who indulged in ornamental displays of politeness, she was an American after all. And the fact that she was entertaining him so falsely worried him. "I'm glad to hear that," she said. Silence hung in the air, her artificial charm was wearing off. Alejandro swallowed down his anxiety. "So," he said and looked around, pretending something had caught his eye. "What are the other-"

"Valeria and Y/N are being released from custody." Alejandro's eyes snapped back to the screen. If his eyes could burn a hole through the laptop, they would've.

"What?" He said and felt anger lit up his chest from the inside. Laswell was no longer smiling. "There's no easy way to say this." She took a deep breath. "You are already aware of how precarious this operation was, Colonel. The seizure of an uninvolved civialian-" "Don't give me that bullshit, Laswell." He interrupted. "We needed her and it was to get Valeria out of hiding." "Yes, that is true. But you fucked it up." Laswell spat out and deeply inhaled a puff from her cigarette. Her hand shook slightly as she placed the cigarette on its holder. "Were you aware that Valeria was recording?" Laswell asked. Alejandro's anger froze. He thought back to their encounter, but his mind was blank. "Recording what? "She was wired and recording when she found you, during the attack. Did you know that?" Alejandro felt like something heavy was pressing down on him. He thought back to what Soap told Valeria as she was placed in the detention vehicle. 'You're going down for what you did.' That's what Soap said and yet Valeria flashed a devilish grin at him, her eyes glimmering with delight. It doesn't matter what I did, she'd said. It matters what you can prove. Alejandro seethed in his seat. "So, what? She's a criminal. She's running a fucking cartel and aiding Hassan with his missiles. Who cares about a stupid recording?" Laswell looked at him, moving her jaw slowly as she calculated her words. "You're aware that Valeria disclosed the location of these missiles. And the missiles are classified, so there is no use persecuting her for-" "Okay, so she'll serve time for the cartel business-," he interrupted and was cut short. "Valeria is threatening to sue for the kidnapping and rape of her wife, Alejandro."

The world fell silent in his ears, he could only hear the ringing sound from his blood rushing. Laswell continued. "I've seen the recording, Alejandro. It's ugly work." She worked more on her cigar, inhaling deeply all that nicotine. "Think about the optics here. Shadow Company, the 141 and Los Vaqueros teaming up to kidnap an innocent civilian and enable rape during custody. Do you understand how serious this is?" She did not look at him as he spoke. Alejandro could barely stammer out his words. When they came out, they were soft and full of fear. "Laswell. I would never do something like that. She is lying," his teeth clattered, he felt his whole jaw vibrate. "I never touched Y/N. I swear it." Laswell shook her head with a frown. "You certainly alluded to something in the recording, Colonel. You all but admitted to it." "I was bluffing to piss her off, I would never do something like that." He said and heard himself sound like a scolded, pathetic child. "I'm not blaming you for anything, Alejandro. I'm just telling you what we're dealing with. During an already sensitive operation, we're now facing exposure. We cannot allow this to happen. You understand this?" "So they're being released..." "Quid pro quo. We got the missile locations and discretion, they get to walk free."

It was like the world was pulled under from beneath his feet. He thought back to when Valeria entered the container back at the headquarters, how flushed she was from her run up to that point. The creases of worry on her face, the way she frantically looked around the room for Y/N. Alejandro could not resist antagonising her. He'd lied about doing things to Y/N because it only seemed fair at the time. That Valeria would face some sort of punishment for what she'd done to him. That was her supreme crime in Alejandro's eyes. It was never about the missiles. And like always, she came out on top. He gritted his teeth, she was always getting away with things. And not only that, but she always found a way to ruin things for others as well. Alejandro saw the contempt in Laswell's eyes, and he knew that he was now debased in her eyes forever. No matter what he said from now on, he could never redeem himself in her eyes. The shame of it burned in his chest. His fall from grace showed no sign of stopping, he felt the walls around him collapse. And then there was the other thing in the recording, the thing about Rudolpho...

"Laswell. How much of the recording did you see?" He could not look at her. "All of it, I'm afraid." She said. He could burst into flames from the shame he felt. So, she had seen it. Is that why she was looking at him like that? Laswell had a wife, it was true, but did that really make a difference now? Alejandro didn't know what was worse: that Laswell would look down on him for his ambiguous desires, or that she'd feel a silent allegiance to him. Both potentials filled him with despair. "Has anyone else seen it?" He asked. "No. I wanted to tell you about it before destroying it. There is no use in keeping it." Alejandro felt his heart lighten. "Am I being dismissed from service?" He said, looking at his window and the world beyond it. It was a dry season now, and he could hear the cicadas sing. The sound lulled his mind, he could think of nothing.

"No, Alejandro. I also called to tell you this. You've been requested back at the base, your medical leave has been cut short. As far as the others are aware, you're ready to get back to work. No one else knows about this." She continued telling him about the details, the date he was to report back to base, and what he'd missed since he went on leave. What the 141 were up to, that they sent their regards and wished him well. He heard it all like it was spoken to someone else. "Thank you, Laswell. We'll talk soon." "Of course, Colonel." She said and closed the call.

He stood up with the laptop in his hands and tossed it to the nearest wall. It shattered into a hundred pieces; he did not clean it up. When he left his house for good, the pieces remained there, scattered.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note: Sorry guys I really wanted this to be the last chapter but this part already came out longer than I expected and I haven't finished the final scene to the point where I'm happy with it. And because I haven't updated in a while, I'll post this part and finish it off properly in the next part. Thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed it! And to clarify, Alejandro didn't assault Y/N! But because he lied and alluded to something like that in a previous part, Valeria decided to use it against him.

tag list: @justmare @silas-222 @m0rganit3 @blarba-girl @sleepiemain @caffeineliker @ashy-kit @00ops1e @lesvii @therapyneeds @lez-zuha @starre-eyes @7smexy7diva @hello-kitty-festival @konigmeu @cassiecasluciluce @gay-ass-country-boy @starwars-theclonewhore @bi-witch-bxtch @somnoslvt @ashthepillow @b3ns0ne @idiotwrites @danart501 @deakyspuff @mistresssiri @angethehimbosimp @@sae1kie @00ops1e @yaebaal @p3arlier @xreals

#cod mw2 #cod valeria #valeria garza x reader #valeria x female reader #valeria garza #cod imagine #call of duty valeria #call of duty #valeria x reader

226 notes · View notes

catulhu333 · 9 months

Text

Bahamut and Tiamat were aspects of Io/Asgorath in early 2nd edition of AD&D lore?

...as well being the two key archetypes influencing all dragons, and in 1st edition of AD&D, the only gods of dragons?

2014/2015 "Rage of Dragons" miniatures of Tiamat and Bahamut

Wile changes to Bahamut and Tiamat (and deific dragon lore in general) in 5th edition (were Bahamut and Tiamat are the supreme, and only real draconic gods), and to a degree 4th edition (were Bahamut and Tiamat were 2 halves of Io), were controversial; these changes are actually based on far older lore, that was changed mid 2nd edition, with 1992's Monster Mythology and further on.

In 1st edition of Advanced Dungeons and Dragons, Bahamut and Tiamat were the only dragon gods, with worship by dragons being split between them, as seen in 1984 article "Dragons and their deities" in Dragon #86: "Evil dragons worship Tiamat, and good dragons worship Bahamut. That is, for all practical purposes, the extent of common knowledge about the way dragons worship their deities."

The divinity of of two was first outright affirmed in 1980 in "Leomund's Tiny Hut: Rearranging and Redefining the Mighty Dragon" in Dragon #38; with Tiamat kinda earlier in the original 1978's Monster Manual, were she was presented among the Lords of Nine.

Miniatures of Bahamut (or as named in the catalog the Platinum Dragon) and Tiamat (or as named in the catalog the Spectral Dragon), from Grenadier Models 1990 catalogue, originally from the 1989 Dragon of the Month II line from 1989. Special thanks @oldschoolfrp, thanks to who I know of this lines existence. Their original post here. I recommend checking them out.

Paladine and Takhisis from Dragonlance, also debuting in 1984, were often identified with Bahamut (Paladine) and Tiamat (Takhisis). It's rather ambiguous though - the creator of both, Jeff Grubb believing this, but writers of Dragonlance novels, and main architects of the setting, Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman (who basically gave them personality and story), believing them as similar, but separate characters/deities.

Official publications either suggested a connection, or stated them to be the same (as well as Bahamut and Tiamat gaining traits of Paladine and Takhisis, like being siblings, and in past, lovers), with 5th edition (with 2021's Fizban's Treasury of Dragons), stating them to be the same.

Constellations of Krynn, in the center Takhisis (left) and Paladine (right) opposing each other, the Gilean' constellation between them. From 1984's "DL5: Dragons of Mystery".

Still, Paladine on Krynn (the world Dragonlance is set in) is/was the leader of the Gods of Good, and Takhisis is/was the leader of the Gods of Evil, and were among the most powerful deities of the setting, equaled only by their brother Gilean and second only to the High God and Chaos.

According to 1989's "Player's Guide to Dragonlance, the two together created the first dragons: "Paladine is Father of Good and Master of Law. During the Age of Dreams, Paladine led the gods in creation. Paladine and Takhisis, Queen of Darkness, infused the raw fury of chaos with form and purpose, creating the first material beings— dragons. Takhisis, jealous the first creations were not entirely hers, corrupted the chromatic dragons to evil. Paladine replaced his fallen children with the good, metallic dragons, but Takhisis’s act began the rift between good and evil."

This origin of dragons on Krynn evolved overtime though, with some changes, but I won't elaborate on this here.

1990's Draconomicon

The draconic pantheon was first expanded with 1990's Draconomicon, though oddly, Bahamat and Tiamat are not among the list of Draconic deities, at least seemingly.

The book instead presents Bahamut and Tiamat instead as seemingly archetypal forms of all dragons (even indeed, the twin Platonic forms of all dragons), even their gods, all of whom (with one exception) are their "pale reflections": " And here the conversation must turn to dragons, for in these species the diffusion theory seems to be the only suitable explanation for their wide-spread existence. Dragons are the only creatures for which there exist archetypal forms. In dragonkind, these forms are Bahamut, the Platinum Dragon, and Tiamat, the Chromatic Dragon. All of the core species of dragonkind the good aligned metallic dragons and the evil-aligned chromatic dragons (ignoring for a moment those fringe species like crystal dragons) seem to be pale reflections of their archetypal forms, displaying some but not all of that archetypes characteristics. For example, a red dragon possesses some but not all of the characteristics attributed to Tiamat, while a gold dragon possesses some but not all of the characteristics attributed to Bahamut. Indulging in mathematical language for a moment, each species of dragon seems to be a subset of properties belonging to one or other of the archetypes. Or, conversely, each archetype seems to possess a superset of the properties possessed by the appropriate class of dragonkind. Some sages truly believe this observation to be representative of the truth of the matter. According to this theory, the very existence of the two archetypal forms Bahamut and Tiamat is responsible for the existence of dragons throughout the multiverse. In metaphorical language, dragons are the shadows that the archetypes cast across the planes. As shadows are, in a sense, subsets of the creatures casting them as they must be, since shadows are two-dimensional so are the shadows of the dragon archetypes subsets of those archetypes characteristics and powers."

Two of the dragon gods, Lendys and Tamara, as Platinum Dragons, seem to be even closer to the archetype of Bahamut, both being platinum dragons themselves, but still lesser than him.

In the same book, there is also mentioned the oldest and highest draconic god, Asgorath the World-Shaper, later identified with Io. Asgorath is stated to to be creator of dragons, and the universe (in the sense of seemingly all existence), at least according to dragons.

But, the myth in the same sourcebook (as found in-universe in the Book of the World, a written down red dragon myth, suggests Asgorath is Tiamat: "It is easy to speculate, based on this myth. The plural inflection of the word breath might be taken as implying multiple heads; the Thorass word for renegade is bahmat. It seems almost too close a correlation can Asgorath be Tiamat and the Renegade be Bahamut?"

This is further alluded in Asgorath's description: "Thus, reds believe that Asgorath is Chaotic Evil as implied in the Book of the World mentioned at the beginning of the chapter while bronzes believe Asgorath is Lawful Good."

Suggesting that like red dragons see/perceive Asgorath as Tiamat, Bronze (and other good dragons) would see the World-Shaper as Bahamut. And that the two "archetypal dragons" are themselves seemingly aspects/parts/avatars of Asgorath. Which is further suggested together with Bahamut's description in Draconomicon: "Sages continue to debate the true nature of Bahamut. Is he the archetype of all good dragonkind, the ideal of which all other dragons are merely shadows? Is he an avatar of a greater deity?"

This is quite obviously an inspiration for Io being split in ancient times into Bahamut and Tiamat in 4th edition/Nerath lore. As well as in "Fizban's Treasury of Dragons", presenting Bahamut and Tiamat as the origin of all dragons, and their forms, it even also using allusions to platonic forms, and shadows of higher reality. As well as Bahamut and Tiamat creating the original universe (that split into the multiverse), like Asgorath was stated to.

Io was first introduced in 1992's Monster Mythology, if very probably taking inspiration from Asgorath (with whom he is directly identified in the book), as well as perhaps Krynn's High God. Io is also stated there to be believed by dragons to be their creator, and of all of existence. As well repeating Platonic and Gnostic ideas from Draconomicon about the world being a shadow of a higher, truer reality: "We Dragon-sages make a distinction between the Two Voids; the First Void, wherein only Io had existence, and the Shadow Void, where Io's willingly shed blood created the potential for existence and creation to come into being. Most non-dragon races only know of the Shadow Void, and they do not know of the earlier time outside time when only the Ninefold Dragon existed."

Monster Mythology though, makes Bahamut and Tiamat somewhat lesser in status, making them Lesser Gods, though only Io (as a Greater God) and Chronepsis (an Intermediate God) are above them, the other two gods (Faluzure and Aesterinian), being on the same level of power. Still though, it is a visible downgrade from their grand role in Draconomicon, and of their counterparts (Paladine and Takhisis) on Krynn. Monster Mythology is also the the first to make Bahamut and Tiamat explicitly siblings and "intended mates".

1998's "Cult of the Dragon" sourcebook, combined the draconic pantheons mentioned described in Draconomicon and Monster Mythology, often identifying/conflating some deities between the two (notably Asgorath and Io, though that was done before). Though this also resulted in a seeming further downgrade in status of Bahamut and Tiamat, them being still Lesser Gods (and Bahamut identified with Xymor, made as possible child of Lendys and Tamara), while including multiple Intermediate Gods (Astilabor, Garyx, Kereska, Lendys, Null as the Guardian of the Lost/Chronepsis, Tamara and Zorquan).

#bahamut #tiamat #dnd #advanced #dungeons & dragons #theory #dragonlance #forgotten realms #draconomicon

186 notes · View notes

blueiskewl · 9 months

Text

The Galaxy NGC 6684 by Hubble Space Telescope

The lenticular galaxy NGC 6684 bathes this image from the NASA/ESA Hubble Space Telescope in a pale light. Captured with Hubble’s Advanced Camera for Surveys, this galaxy is around 44 million light-years from Earth in the constellation Pavo. Pavo – the Latin name for peacock – is a constellation in the southern sky and one of four constellations collectively known as the Southern Birds.

Lenticular galaxies like NGC 6684 (lenticular means lens-shaped) possess a large disk but lack the prominent spiral arms of galaxies like the Andromeda Galaxy. This leaves them somewhere between elliptical galaxies and spiral galaxies, and lends these galaxies a diffuse, ghostly look. NGC 6684 also lacks the dark dust lanes that thread through other galaxies, adding to its spectral appearance.

The data in this image was captured during a census of the nearby universe entitled Every Known Nearby Galaxy, which aims to observe all galaxies within 10 megaparsecs (32.6 million light-years) that the telescope has not already visited. Before this program began, Hubble had observed roughly 75% of these nearby galaxies. Completing this census will reveal insights into the stars making up a wide variety of galaxies, in a wide variety of environments.

Text credit: European Space Agency (ESA). Image credit: ESA/Hubble & NASA, R. Tully.

#The Galaxy NGC 6684 by Hubble Space Telescope #hubble space telescope #the constellation Pavo #space #nasa #nasa photos #nasa picture of the day

80 notes · View notes

just--space · 2 years

Photo

Quadrantids of the North : Named for a forgotten constellation, the Quadrantid Meteor Shower puts on an annual show for planet Earth's northern hemisphere skygazers. The shower's radiant on the sky lies within the old, astronomically obsolete constellation Quadrans Muralis. That location is not far from the Big Dipper, at the boundaries of the modern constellations Bootes and Draco. In fact north star Polaris is just below center in this frame and the Big Dipper asterism (known to some as the Plough) is above it, with the meteor shower radiant to the right. Pointing back toward the radiant, Quadrantid meteors streak through the night in the panoramic skyscape, a composite of images taken in the hours around the shower's peak on January 4, 2022. Arrayed in the foreground are radio telescopes of the Chinese Spectral Radioheliograph, Mingantu Observing Station, Inner Mongolia, China. A likely source of the dust stream that produces Quadrantid meteors was identified in 2003 as an asteroid. via NASA

#NASA #space #astronomy

458 notes · View notes

aliengirl · 5 months

Text

everyone pls meet our baby Carrie, aka Carina Maia!

Meaning of her name below bc i think abt it too much

plus:

Maia is a star in the constellation of Taurus. It is a blue giant of spectral type B8 III, a chemically peculiar star, and the prototype of the Maia variable class of variable star. Maia is the fourth-brightest star in the Pleiades open star cluster (Messier 45), after Alcyone, Atlas and Electra. It is surrounded by one of the brighter reflection nebulae within the Pleiades, designated NGC 1432 and sometimes called the Maia Nebula.

#i now nobody cares about my Names Lore #but i overthink this way too much and i need to share so too bad for ya #the sims 4 #sims 4 #sims 4 screenshots #sims #sims 4 gameplay #rhea lo #unworldly life #unworldly life gen one #carina maia io bohan

39 notes · View notes

daphnefisherofficial · 6 months

Text

bugna: TAKIPSILIM | destiny's twilight

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Pairing: MCU Moon Knight System (Marc/Steven/Jake) x Avatar Fem!Reader

masterlist | previous | next chapter

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - SHARED BURDENS AND UNEXPECTED ALLIANCES.

The air around you feels charged, crackling with a palpable tension, thick and electric as though the cosmos itself is waiting for answers. The revelation Jake Lockley had just shared was a storm, and you were at its center. As the weight of it bore down upon you, you couldn't help but feel a surge of mixed emotions. Anticipation gnawed at the edges of your consciousness like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.

Your own memories had always been a mystery, a fragmented tapestry of experiences and secrets, but this new twist in the narrative had the power to change everything. You needed answers, and there was only one entity capable of providing them.

"I wish to speak to Khonshu," you said, your voice trembling with a strange mix of trepidation and determination as you spoke directly to Jake. "Summon your god. I need to hear the truth from him, to explain all of this to me."

His face is etched with anticipation, knowing that you've just asked him to summon his patron god, Khonshu, to enlighten you about a revelation that has shaken the foundation of your reality. The revelation that he knew you long before you, Marc Spector, and Steven Grant ever crossed paths. Your heart pounds like a drum in your chest, a chaotic rhythm that matches the turmoil inside your mind.

“As you wish, preciosa”, Jake nodded solemnly, his eyes never leaving yours as he understood the gravity of the situation. He closed his eyes and began to invoke his patron god’s name in a low, rhythmic voice. You could feel a slow shift in the atmosphere as the world seemed to sigh. And then, in a moment of pure mysticism, the air around you seems to ripple as a figure begins to materialize at your side, responding to the call of his avatar.

Khonshu, the ancient Egyptian god of the moon, was a sight to behold as he stood before you in all his divine splendor. He was imposing, a towering presence in his celestial form as he filled the vicinity with otherworldly radiance. The silvery light of the moon bathed his ancient robes in an ethereal glow, cloaking his spectral figure as his hollow eyes shone with intensity and celestial wisdom beneath the chiseled features of his bird skull.

"Mira, daughter of the moon" he said in a voice that resonated with power and ancient knowledge. "You seek my presence?"

“Yes indeed, Khonshu”, you nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from the god's luminous form as his aura possessed tranquil power that put you at ease. “I wish to speak with you, as I have questions that only you have the answer to”

“Then state your purpose, child”, Khonshu nodded slowly as his former and present avatars, Marc, Steven and Jake, watched the awaited conversation unfold between the two of you. “What questions do you seek answers to?”

"Is it true what Jake said?” you whispered, reverence mingled with fear in your voice. “Did he know me before we ever met? Before I ever met Marc and Steven?"

Khonshu's gaze shifted between you, Jake, Marc and Steven, his eyes a swirling pool of cosmic energy that seemed to penetrate your very soul.

"Yes," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "The night where I enlisted your help to move the night skies and find the constellation leading to Ammit's tomb did indeed happen. You played a crucial role in ensuring that my avatars will keep their lives."

"Why can't I remember any of it?" you asked, your voice filled with frustration and a hint of anger as the revelation sent shivers down your spine. “I do not understand why this was kept from me.”

“The memories of that time were concealed from you, Mira, through a powerful curse”, Khonshu raises an ethereal hand, his expression solemn as he gestured for you to be patient.

“A curse…” your voice quivers as you take a deep breath, a thousand questions flooding your mind. “I remember Mayari telling me that it was the god Set who cast it on me, as punishment for me and Darius aiding you, Anubis and the Ennead against him”

“I’m afraid that is not what happened, Mira”, Khonshu intones, his voice like distant thunder. “Your patron goddess lied to you for reasons even I couldn’t fathom yet–”

“Lied to me?” you took a few steps back, an incredulous expression starting to paint your face as you resumed your restless pacing, with your three astral companions watching you helplessly as you succumbed to the seeds of doubts planted and slowly blooming in your mind.

“Explain your words, Khonshu”, you implored, your heart heavy with uncertainty.

“The curse was placed not by Set, but by the moon goddess you serve as an avatar”, Khonshu sighed, the truth finally escaping his lips. “It was Mayari who erased your memories of saving and sharing your life force with Marc, Steven and Jake.”

The name of your patron goddess hung heavily in the air, and you immediately felt as if the world you thought you knew had been turned upside down. Mayari was your patron goddess, the divine being who had guided your steps and granted you her powers. The mere thought of her intervening in your life like this was incomprehensible. Her suspected betrayal was like a knife twisting in your heart.

“But why?” you demanded, pressing further as Khonshu’s words greatly confused you to no end. "Why would my goddess do such a thing?"

Khonshu's expression remained pensive, his gaze steady as he sighed, "I’m afraid only she can answer that question, child."

A surge of anger and frustration consumed you, its molten tendrils wrapping around your core like serpents seeking prey. Your vision blurred as the moon goddess you had long served, escaped your lips as a desperate plea.

“Mayari, aking diwatang pinaglilingkuran”, you spoke, invoking the name of your patron goddess. “Sinasamo kita”

Mayari, my goddess to whom I serve. I summon you.

You reached out to the divine connection that had always existed between you, attempting to summon your divine mentor to explain herself. But to your surprise and dismay, she refused your call. It was as if the moon goddess you served, the deity to whom you had given your loyalty and devotion, refused an audience with you.

"Mayari, pakiusap" you whispered again, your voice tremulous with mounting desperation. “Bigyang tugon mo ang aking pagsamo”

Mayari, please. Answer me and my divine summons to you.

The level of frustration climbed as it slowly clawed at your chest, its unrelenting grip threatening to consume your being. Your plea met deadly silence as the cosmic presence of your patron goddess remains elusive, shrouded behind an impenetrable veil and refusing to grace your presence. The celestial deity, usually your guiding light in times of darkness, had abandoned you when you needed her the most. A sense of betrayal seeped into your soul, gnawing at the very fabric of your faith.

“If Mayari refuses to shed some light into this, I will find a way myself”, you implored the Egyptian moon deity as he watched your struggle, turning to him in pure desperation. “You've sworn to help me, Khonshu. I'm calling upon that oath now”

“Indeed, I gave you my word”, Khonshu replied, regarding you with a quiet intensity. “What do you require of me, Mira?”

"As you know, I’m currently weakened by the new moon”, you inhaled deeply, focusing on the words you were about to speak. “Lend me your celestial prowess and strength, and I will use your moon magic to perform a spell to recover my memories of that night, and every memory I have lost."

“I will help you, Mira”, Khonshu's voice resonated within your mind, his words a whispered breeze. "But to grant you my full strength, there is a condition that needs to be fulfilled."

A sense of foreboding washed over you as you regarded the moon god's words. Khonshu was not known for his leniency, and his conditions often came at a heavy cost. You hesitated, then asked, "What is your condition, Khonshu?"

"To empower you as you seek, the others who once served as my avatars must return to their rightful place," Khonshu replied. "Marc Spector and Steven Grant - they must resume their servitude and come back to me. They must become the Moon Knight once again."

You recoiled at the suggestion, your heart heavy with reluctance. The proposition was heavy with implications that weighed upon your conscience like an anchor threatening to drag you into murky depths. You may not know the entirety of Marc, Steven and Jake’s history as Moon Knight - the weight of the mantle that they had carried, their struggles and sacrifices, and the scars they bore. But the mere thought of subjecting them to eternal servitude to a moon god, even if it had been their past, went against everything you have believed in and stood for.

You wish to protect them from such a fate.

"I cannot agree to that, Khonshu”, your determination unwavering despite the struggle to keep your voice steady as tears started to gather at the corners of your eyes. A silent tension hung in the dark corners of your mind, the cosmic weight of the moon god's gaze piercing through the veil of your thoughts.

“I will never ask this of them, nor will I subject them to that kind of torment”, your voice spoke again with finality, resolved to find another way.

And then, something astonishing happened, something you had not anticipated, nor even thought possible. Marc Spector, who had been watching silently from the sidelines, stepped forward. He stood tall, his eyes glowing with a resolute determination.

“I’ll do it, Mira”, Marc's voice was laced with a quiet resolve. “I’ll go back to being Khonshu’s avatar”

Stunned, you felt your heart skip a beat as you realized what his agreement implied. He was willing to make this sacrifice, to reclaim his former life as the Moon Knight and restore his connection with Khonshu. All in the name of granting you immense power to unlock the memories that had been concealed from the dark recesses of your mind for so long.

"Marc, no," you pleaded, your voice quivering with emotion. "You don't have to do this. I can't let you do this for me."

“I kept recalling that night when I was unable to protect you”, Marc's response was unwavering, his astral form stepping in front of you as his palms made contact with the soft skin of your cheeks. "And I swear to you - that will never happen again. If serving Khonshu will grant me the power and strength to protect you, then so be it.”

But before you could voice your protest, Steven Grant chimed in. His hands grasped your shoulders firmly despite hovering as a corporeal form as he nodded in agreement with Marc’s words.

"We wish you to remember your past, love. We're in this together, Mira, all of us"

You felt your heart ache with a mixture of gratitude, admiration, and a nagging sense of guilt. Even Steven was willing to bear the burden of servitude to the moon god so that you could gain power and remember your past. His and Marc’s selflessness and courage humbled you.

"But I can't let you all agree to this," you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. "You have your own lives, your own desires. It's not fair to you, to any of you."

“We've already been through worse, mi vida”, Jake added his voice to the chorus this time, his tone carrying a sense of determination as his soft smile melted your heart. "I hope you trust us when we say that we can handle it, sí?"

The tears you’ve tried so hard to hold in streamed freely down your face, now realizing the depth of their commitment to you. Despite your protests and reservations, they were willing to give up their autonomy, their freedom, for you. It was a testament to their loyalty and their desire to protect you.

“If you are to accept this, it must be a collective decision”, Khonshu's spectral form shifted, and his gaze seemed to bore into Marc and Steven’s souls. "All three of you will be bound to me in servitude. Do you accept this, Marc Spector, Steven Grant, and Jake Lockley?"

The three alters exchanged a look, a silent conversation that transcended words. Then, as one, they nodded.

"We accept," Marc said, his voice resonating with a newfound determination.

Steven and Jake echoed the sentiment, their voices overlapping in a haunting harmony. "We accept."

Khonshu's presence seemed to expand, enveloping the rooftop in a shroud of ethereal energy. "Then let the oath be sworn."

Respecting their decision, you closed your eyes and reached out to the astral plane, summoning your moon magic. With a burst of ethereal energy, you began to return the corporeal and astral forms of Marc Spector, Steven Grant, and Jake Lockley to their shared body. The three personas coalesced seamlessly into a single entity before your very eyes, all co-conscious in their shared mind.

"I swear," they intoned in unison, "to do my duty as Moon Knight, to protect the travelers of the night, and above all, to safeguard Mira’s life at all costs."

With those words, the transformation began. The familiar threads of Khonshu's ceremonial armor, a blend of ancient Egyptian motifs and protective gold breast plates, wrapped around their shared body once again. His white-clad hood and mask slid into place, concealing his features, and his eyes glowed with an otherworldly light, radiating power and purpose. Marc Spector and Steven Grant had become the Moon Knight once more together with Jake Lockley, a defender of the night, bound by an unbreakable oath.

You took a step back, feeling a mixture of awe and trepidation as the Moon Knight stood before you, a living embodiment of divine power. It was a sight to behold, but it also carried a heavy burden. You knew that the man beneath the mask, the alters within, had given up a piece of themselves for this power.

With the weight of this new alliance and purpose, you opened a portal using your mystic arts prowess to your residence in Surrey. You turned to the Moon Knight, speaking softly as you have officially extended an invitation to your home to Marc, Steven and Jake.

"Come with me then”, you said softly, your right hand outstretched for them to take. “We have work to do."

Resolute and determined, the Moon Knight took your hand as the two of you went through the portal together.They were unmasked for a brief moment, nodding in pure understanding as their voice carried a sense of unwavering commitment.

"After you, Mira."

END OF CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

masterlist | previous | next chapter

50 notes · View notes

frogsrneat · 4 months

Text

The sun looks like a straw hat sinking into the waves- disappearing into the ocean just like Zoro’s, the crew’s, joy disappearing before their eyes.

Originally called to the promise of adventure by the glistening of sea-king scales that littered the shore of the island and lanterns that dotted the coast like constellations only the gods could design, they find a town with ulterior motives for their crew.

Release Nika.

"Then Luffy’s eyes snap back open but they are white. The color of white stretched across the canvas like a spectral whisper, an ethereal hue that refused the comforting embrace of warmth."

Based on

@one-idea’s Idea of a a Nika worshiping cult trying to capture Luffy.

#one piece #op #opla #monkey d. luffy #mugiwara no luffy #my photo #one piece luffy #black leg sanji #one piece zoro #art #straw hat luffy #luffy #straw hat crew #straw hat pirates #Nila

27 notes · View notes

jastheepic · 8 months

Text

Not so Sugar Sweet - Toxic Huening Kai version

Warnings: Toxic behavior, One-sided feelings, Slight violence, Threatening, Slight Possessiveness, Kai is very harsh, cursing, humiliation (?) (Someone please help me with the warning for the love of god).

3RD PERSON POV

In the midst of the bustling student crowd, she stood. Her heart felt like a broken record, playing a disharmonic melody that not even the liveliest chatter could drown out.

She moved through the world like a shadow; no spotlight ever found her. She was the whisper amidst the crowd, the subtle brushstrokes on the canvas of life's bustling painting. Invisible—that's who she was.

Unfortunately, invisibility never bothered her like it does now.

Unlike her, Huening Kai was made to shine. He was a radiant beacon, a constellation of brilliance in the midst of ordinary constellations.

It was her fault for getting ahead of herself, forgetting her reality. She had always been the forgotten shadow, a spectral echo in the clamor of attention, slipping through life's pages unnoticed. While he was a luminary, a sunlit melody that demanded the spotlight, a presence so vivid it seemed to paint the air around them.

She was the quiet kid, a nobody who only kept to herself and had a few friends.

So, why would anyone believe her story? How could they possibly fathom that she had poured her heart into a night of passion with him, only to awaken to the cruel truth that it was a one-sided dream? A fantasy that dissipated with the morning sun. How could they believe that she didn't willingly give him a piece of her heart; rather, he had snatched it away just to shatter it into a million pieces?

Ah, yes, that's who Huening Kai was. Behind his pretty face lay a harsh truth. Much like a painted porcelain doll with a hidden crack, a facade of beauty veiling the fractures within.

Huening Kai reveled in the attention, relishing how the morning sunlight embraced him and how everything seemed to shape itself according to his desires.

He stood casually, hands tucked into his pockets, his back nonchalantly resting against the wall. A playful smirk danced on his lips as all the girls surrounded him. His physique and height towered over everyone, and his features were so impeccably chiseled that he looked like he didn't belong in this world. His eyes linger, glancing at the crowd of admirers before meeting hers.

In that singular instant, a realization hits her: she's the only one who can see the darkness in his eyes. The monster hidden behind. She notices the twitch in his jaw; he is not happy with her.

She forgets how to breathe as she trembles in her spot. She feels someone shaking her, taking her out of her trance.

"You alright? You seemed as if you'd seen a ghost," her friend asked with concern, her grip on Y/n's arm tightening.

"Y-Yea, it is nothing. I need to get some air; let's leave, yeah?"

She grabs her friend by the hand, almost sprinting out of the hall until they both reach the school's sports hall.

"Come, let's settle by the poolside to ease your mind," her friend proposes, gently guiding her to a seat at the pool's edge. They dangle their feet in the water, its cool touch offering a soothing embrace.

They lingered in silence, savoring the simple presence of each other. For Y/n, these moments were a necessity—a tranquil interval to untangle her thoughts and mend the fragments of her wounded heart.

Twenty minutes unfold in this manner until her friend opts to shatter the quietude. "How about this," she proposes, "I'll dash over to fetch us a bite to eat while you stay here and chill?" Y/n responds with a nod, a gentle smile curving her lips in agreement.

"So, you're avoiding me now?" The silence is short-lived, abruptly replaced by a solemn voice emerging from behind her. Her heart comes to a halt, her body locking in place as she instantly recognizes that voice.

"K-Kai...." Her voice trembles; her gaze meets his. His expression remains unreadable, a cold stare accompanying his deliberate approach. Though she yearns to distance herself from him, her body remains rooted, as if ensnared by an unseen enchantment. Casting a quick glance behind, she realizes her position at the pool's edge. A desperate attempt to retreat is thwarted as Kai closes in, leaving her cornered and defenseless.

He clutches her arm with a vice-like grip, the force leaving behind a vivid imprint of his fingers. "Are you going to cry? Don't bother." His grip tightens, making her cry out in pain. Tears cascade down her cheeks as she remains unmoving.

"You're the one who wants me, so don't even think that you are ignoring me." His fingers press into her skin with increasing intensity, while his other hand ascends to seize a handful of her hair. "W-Why are you doing this, K-Kai?" Her words find a way through the veil of tears.

He remains silent, watching how pathetically she breaks down in front of him, but he doesn't care. He never did.

"Don't act like a victim. What did I tell you about not telling everyone about what happened between us? I told you to act like you don't know me, but did you think I wouldn't notice you looking at me so fucking longingly?" He lowers his head, resting his forehead on hers, his voice taking on a serious tone. The fear that gripped her was beyond measure—a sensation as if her heart had plummeted to the depths of her stomach.

"I-I didn't tell anyone." Amidst her tearful sobs, she stammers, unable to meet his gaze.

"You're a fucking leech, you know that? Even if you did tell someone, they wouldn't believe you. You should be glad I even looked your way in the first place." His lips draw near to her ear, a smirk tugging at his mouth, his tone playful but laced with threat.

"I am sure you wouldn't like it if everyone knew about our little rendezvous, right? They would just think of you as one of the many whores who are willing to spread their legs for me." He backs away slightly, both of his hands firmly clutching her forearm on either side.

"I hope you know what's good for you." He tenderly sweeps her hair aside from her face, his actions at odds with his words as he turns to leave. She stands, head lowered, tears veiling her face, her hair disheveled, staring expressionlessly at the ground.

He arrived solely to dismantle the defenses she had erected against him. That's just what he did. And it was then and there that she realized that light, too, could have dual faces. It wasn't solely brilliance and beauty; concealed within its radiance lurked a darkness far more menacing than the obscurity it illuminated. Lightning isn't just a dazzling streak across the sky; it's a fierce reminder that beauty can also bring pain. That alone defined Huening Kai perfectly.

On the other hand, she was an idiot. She was the one who mistook a storm for a breeze, believing in a calm that was never his nature. In trying to find gentleness, she unwittingly embraced chaos.

Ah, yes, that was the true difference between them. He was the radiant sun, and she, the delicate shadow. His destiny was solitude—a lone brilliance that painted the sky. Yet the shadow found its purpose only when touched by his light, an ethereal dance of existence woven in their contrasts.

It's unfortunate that being lonely fits him, and she was made for begging 'stay'.

"I'll be coming over tonight, so keep your door open."

A/N: If this does well, what would you like to see next? The back story or what happens next?

#toxic!txt #toxic relationship #toxic love #one sided love #one sided feelings #one sided crush #hueningkai #huening kai #huening kai angst #hueningkai angst #txt angst #txt #txt x reader #txt x y/n #tomorrow x together #high school

38 notes · View notes

queen-of-sand-castles · 5 days

Text

Gothic Chronicles: Midnight's Veiled Secrets

This is a collection of poems that explore themes of loss, love, and the supernatural. Each piece offers a unique perspective on the complex emotions that accompany these experiences. As you read through this anthology, you may find yourself connecting with the universal truths that resonate within these lines.

1st poem: **Crimson Manuscripts**

In ancient halls where silence reigns,

Dust-laden tomes breathe secrets, unrestrained.

I walk the edge of lore, long since forgotten,

My heart inscribed with desires begotten.

With quill in hand, my constant guide,

Into the well of night, I confide.

A scribe of echoes from the void,

Crafting words, in melancholy alloyed.

"Unveil your stories, O manuscripts of red,

Your vellum skin to my soul is wed.

A nomad I, charting celestial designs,

In the margins of sonnets, my spirit aligns."

Shadows dance in the candle's fickle glow,

Over leather-bound legacies of long ago.

My pen bleeds ink, as if it were life,

Carving my essence amidst existential strife.

Epochs lost, their essence I distill,

In a whirlwind of memories that time can't kill.

An alchemist of words, in the arcane I delve,

Turning longing into verses, transiently shelved.

"Speak, O crimson tomes, your veins wide spread,

Upon your pages, my yearnings are said.

A wanderer am I, through constellations I roam,

In the forgotten verses, I find my home."

Gargoyles stand guard, stoic and grim,

At the gates of forever, their visages dim.

Their stone-cast gaze, the moon's sorrow reflects,

As I seek comfort in ancient dialects.

The piano's lament, the violin's cry,

And the cello's deep thrum under centuries lie.

On the brink of the void, I dance alone,

My steps resounding in a timeless tone.

"Reveal your depths, O manuscripts of hue,

My longing etched on your surface true.

A traveler of the stars, in your words I'm dressed,

In the forgotten poetry, my journey's expressed."

As the last note into silence wanes,

Within these lines, my spirit remains.

A ghostly minstrel serenading the night,

On eternity's parchment, my soul takes flight.

2nd poem: **Eternal Shadows**

In this manor, I wander, through silence and gloom,

Footsteps echo softly in each abandoned room.

Moonlight bathes me gently, as I softly tread,

Among the living's memories, I whisper with the dead.

In the moon's soft glow, my secrets unfold,

A phantom in the night, a story left untold.

Eternal shadows, where I roam free,

In this house of spirits, it's just the ghosts and me.

Through halls of mystery, where silent echoes play,

We're the souls of forever, in the night we stay.

Dust dances in the beam, time seems to freeze,

In this place of stillness, where moments cease.

Portraits watch silently, as I pass them by,

In the manor's heart, where old secrets lie.

Shadows cling to my steps, as I tiptoe through time,

In this spectral dance, where memories chime.

In this realm of silence, where I drift unseen,

Amongst the echoes, a solitary queen.

In the mansion of whispers, where secrets sway,

We're the timeless wanderers, in the shadows we play.

Feel the past's chill, as it draws near?

In the wind's whisper, it's our voices you hear.

Shadows stretch eternal, in this spectral ballet,

With the phantoms, my companions, in the night we sway.

Through corridors of enigma, where muted stories say,

We're the everlasting echoes, in the twilight's gray.

In the moon’s waning light, I catch a fleeting glimpse—a face unfamiliar, yet tethered to my soul.

The manor murmurs secrets, and I am but an echo, lost in its labyrinth of forgotten moments.

3rd poem: **The Raven's Whisper**

Beneath the silver veil of moonlight's kiss,

Where shadows merge and secrets intertwine,

I wander through the garden of forgotten dreams,

Seeking solace in the petals of night-blooming flowers.

The moon, a silent witness to my yearning,

Whispers ancient verses to the restless wind.

Its luminescent fingers trace delicate patterns,

Weaving tales of love and loss across the sky.

In this nocturnal sanctuary, memories bloom,

Each petal a fragment of a fractured heart.

I pluck them one by one, like fragile confessions,

And scatter them upon the dew-kissed grass.

The nightingale, perched upon a moonbeam,

Sings a requiem for love's ephemeral dance.

Its melody weaves through the jasmine vines,

Echoing the ache of longing in every note.

I trace the constellations with trembling fingers,

Mapping out our celestial rendezvous.

Did you once stand here, beneath this same moon,

Whispering promises that time has now erased?

The night wears on, and I become a ghost,

Drunk on moonlight and the fragrance of roses.

Perhaps, in this enchanted hour, you'll return,

And we'll dance once more in moonlit reverie.

4th poem: **Whispers from the Veil**

Beneath the moon's soft veil, we gather,

In the dim-lit chamber, secrets tethered.

A séance of souls, both lost and found,

Where spectral echoes dance, unbound.

The crystal ball, a portal spun,

Holds reflections of lives undone.

Its facets catch the flicker of stars,

As we seek communion beyond the bars.

The medium's breath, a whispered plea,

Invites the unseen to speak with glee.

Their voices rise from shadowed past,

A chorus of memories that forever last.

"Tell us," we implore, "of love's sweet pain,

Of promises broken, of longing's refrain."

And the room trembles with their reply,

A symphony of whispers, reaching sky-high.

The air thickens, charged with their essence,

As they recount tales of love's evanescence.

Their fingers brush ours, a spectral touch,

And we glimpse eternity in moments such.

The séance chamber hums with cosmic threads,

Binding us to realms where time unweds.

In this dance of spirits, we find solace anew,

As moonlight weaves stories, both old and true.

5th poem: **Portrait Of Despair**

Whispers haunt the hallowed space,

A gallery where time's embrace

Has left a mark on every face,

Each portrait tells of sorrow's trace.

A viscountess, her gaze so stern,

Her lover's touch she did spurn.

Now in her eyes, the cold fires burn,

For his return, she'll always yearn.

A captain, lost to ocean's wrath,

His ship did stray from charted path.

In stormy seas, he met his fate,

His portrait speaks of storms innate.

A child, with eyes so wide and clear,

His innocence was held so dear.

Yet fate was cruel, the night unkind,

His story leaves tears behind.

A maiden fair, with golden hair,

Once danced with grace, a pair so rare.

But love was lost, the dance did end,

Her silent song, it does transcend.

A poet's quill, now still and broke,

His verses lost, like vanished smoke.

The inkwell dry, the parchment torn,

For his muse, forever mourn.

A duelist with rapier drawn,

Stands proud and fierce, yet all forlorn.

His honor kept, his life forsworn,

In morning's light, he lies forlorn.

A widow's veil, her somber shroud,

Her whispered grief, it speaks aloud.

Her heart entombed, her love enshrined,

In painted form, her woes confined.

A jester's laugh, forever mute,

His mirthful mask, a grim dispute.

Behind the paint, the tears dilute,

His joy's facade, now destitute.

Each frame, a window to the past,

Holds echoes of a spell once cast.

The gallery, a somber host,

To each despairing, silent ghost.

So tread with care through memory's lane,

Where painted eyes live on in pain.

For every tale the portraits share,

Reflects a soul once trapped in despair.

The gallery grows, the walls extend,

New portraits join, old stories blend.

In this domain where spirits send

Their silent pleas, their hearts to mend.

Here, time stands still, the world outside

Fades to a whisper, hushed and wide.

Each canvas breathes, each shade confide,

The depths of pain they cannot hide.

So linger long, and gaze upon

The faces here, not truly gone.

Their silent mouths may yet respond,

In this gallery, they live beyond.

6th poem: **Cryptic Alchemy**

Shadowed chambers, whispers weave,

A blend of dark synth and mysterious chants,

Forbidden knowledge etched in cryptic runes,

Where secrets stir and ancient echoes dance.

No sun's embrace, no moon's soft kiss,

Only shadows' veiled embrace and moonless nights,

The alchemist, a weaver of enigma, chants,

Arcane melodies that pierce the void's veil.

Ebon potions simmer in onyx cauldrons,

Their essence distilled from forgotten realms,

Each drop a tincture of forgotten memories,

A concoction of lost dreams and starlight's breath.

The astral symphony crescendos, spiraling,

As darkness and light entwine, seeking balance,

The alchemist, eyes ablaze with ancient fire,

Unravels the cosmic threads, seeking truth.

Glyphs etched on obsidian tablets sing,

Their meaning veiled, yet yearning to be known,

For Cryptic Alchemy weaves the fabric of existence,

Where shadows birth illumination, and silence speaks.

So listen, mortal seeker, to the whispers of the void,

For within their echoes lie the keys, the ciphered codes,

Unlock the gates, step beyond the mundane,

And become the alchemist, weaver of mysteries.

7th poem: **Whispers from the Attic**

Creaking floorboards, distant voices,

A symphony of past choices,

Echoes of steps that once did pace,

Through corridors of time and space.

Above, where dust motes dance in light,

The attic holds its court at night,

A realm of silence, still and deep,

Where secrets their sacred vigil keep.

What tales are etched within these walls?

Of grandeur's rise and empire's falls,

The gentle touch of a lover's hand,

A sailor's journey to distant lands.

Here, the whispers are not of dread,

But of life's tapestry, finely thread,

A dressmaker's needle, a writer's pen,

Moments captured, again and again.

The attic, with its musty scent,

Is a treasure trove of times spent,

A chest of memories, locked away,

Awaiting the light of day.

Photographs in sepia tones,

Love letters in heartfelt overtones,

A child's toy, long forgotten,

In this space, nothing is rotten.

Each creak a word, each shadow a story,

A chronicle of both joy and worry,

The attic speaks to those who hear,

Its whispers clear, its message dear.

So venture forth, if you dare,

To uncover the mysteries waiting there,

For in the whispers from the attic's heart,

Lies a world set apart.

8th poem: **Gargoyle's Serenade**

I was supposed to be sent away,

To lands where stone figures don't sway,

But here I stand, a guardian grim,

Upon the cathedral's highest rim.

Carved from the earth's own rugged bone,

I watch the city, silent and alone,

A sentinel in the sky's expanse,

Overseeing the human dance.

My gaze is fixed, my purpose clear,

To ward off evil, to calm the fear,

With guitar in hand, I play my part,

A serenade from the stone heart.

The melody weaves through spire and stone,

A song of ages, through winds blown,

It tells of battles, of love, of strife,

Of the endless ebb and flow of life.

The chords resonate, deep and profound,

In every corner, the notes resound,

A testament to the watch I keep,

While the city below lies in sleep.

By day, I'm still, a figure austere,

By night, my music, the heavens hear,

A symphony for the stars above,

Played with a touch of eternal love.

The moon bathes me in silver light,

As I play on through the quiet night,

A gargoyle's serenade, pure and true,

For the cathedral and for you.

So let the guitar's voice rise and swell,

Let it break the night's silent spell,

For in this song, you'll find ensnared,

The spirit of the guardians paired.

And when the dawn paints the sky anew,

And the city stirs, life to pursue,

Remember the music that filled the air,

From the gargoyle's perch, high up there.

9th poem: ** Midnight Masquerade **

Under the moon's silver gaze, the night unfurls its cape,

A ballroom emerges in the forest's embrace.

"Midnight Masquerade," whispers the wind's soft escape,

Where shadows and starlight waltz in silent grace.

Masked figures glide, their steps a silent plea,

To the rhythm of hearts, to the pulse of the night.

Each turn, a story, a hidden fantasy,

Faces veiled in mystery, souls alight.

The moonlit sky, a witness to their dance,

Casts a glow on masks of velvet and lace.

In the masquerade's enchanting trance,

Time dissolves in the dancers' harmonious space.

A clock strikes twelve, the spell gently breaks,

But the dance lives on in dreams it awakes.

For in the night's tender, fleeting sweep,

The masquerade's magic is ours to keep.

10th poem: ** Fading Candlelight **

Quiet whispers linger in the room's embrace,

Where the last candle's flame begins its trace.

"Fading Candlelight," it hums with grace,

A tale of twilight, in the evening's chase.

Its flame dances with a tender, wistful air,

A ballet of shadows in the dimming lair.

Each flicker, a memory, each spark, a sigh,

A symphony of moments, as time ticks by.

The wax drips slowly, a river of tears,

For the passing days, the fleeting years.

The light wanes gently, a golden hue,

A silent sentinel in the dusk's purview.

Around the flame, the darkness creeps,

A cloak of obsidian, where daylight sleeps.

Yet in its warm embrace, the candle stands,

A beacon of hope in the night's vast lands.

The room breathes softly, a lullaby's tune,

As the candle's aura fills the cocoon.

Stories unfold in its radiant bloom,

A dance of life in the encroaching gloom.

The flame leans low, a lover's caress,

Against the night, a silent confess.

Its brilliance wavers, a faltering heart,

A sign that soon, it must depart.

But oh, the tales it could tell,

Of love and loss, of heaven and hell.

In its light, life found a stage,

A book of hours on an ephemeral page.

Now the candle's breath grows thin,

A final flicker from within.

The shadows lengthen, reaching out,

Embracing all in a silent shout.

And as the last ember takes its bow,

The room is shrouded in the now.

"Fading Candlelight," a whisper's trace,

Leaves behind a darkened space.

Yet in the black, a new day stirs,

For life persists, it still endures.

The candle's gone, but in its wake,

A new dawn blooms, for us to take.

So let the night claim its due,

For with the morn, we start anew.

In the heart of darkness, find the light,

And hold it close, through the longest night.

15 notes · View notes