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flowerandblood · 4 months

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The Fall from the Heavens (3)

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: oral sex, smut, angst, incest, obsession, violence, swearing, humiliation, chauvinism, mention of injury ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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When he learned of the death of Daemon's wife, he knew it was a sign from the gods that his time had come − Vhagar, the largest and oldest dragoness in the world, was left without a rider.

He thought that at last he would make his father proud, that he would take his niece to Essos as he had promised her.

It seemed to him that the heavens were finally smiling on him, that everything made sense and was slowly beginning to come together, that he could see above the mist that surrounded him his destiny.

As he fled from the fortress in the middle of the night he thought only of the fact that he might die and hoped that if he did, his betrothed would mourn him greatly and never marry any other man.

Her sign of love and loyalty, of respect for his sacrifice for her and their future family.

Vhagar was frightening and huge, like a giant, dark, moving mountain, with her every movement the earth shook around her; he couldn't believe it when she obeyed his command, his body trembled as he climbed the ropes to the great saddle on her back, he screamed with fear and joy as she flew with him into the skies.

He was the rider of the greatest dragon in the world.

He was like Visenya, like Aegon the Conqueror, and his future wife was like sweet Rhaenys.

Everything was as it should be.

He ran through the underground caverns to wake her and tell her everything, to kiss her, to spend the night in her embrace and listen to her assurances that he was fearless, that he was brave and that she was proud to become the wife of the man who had become the rider of the most powerful dragon flying in the skies in their lifetime.

It was then that he came upon them.

He thought he would never let them humiliate himself again, that bastards or weak, quivering little girls who couldn't even tame a dragon would never stand in his way again.

All that mattered was her, and though he knew she would be upset, he felt that she would forgive him, that she would understand that this was revenge for all the years of humiliation he had suffered from them.

And then Luke cut his face with his blade − he suddenly heard his own loud, squeaky, almost girlish scream and grabbed his left eye where he had lost his sight completly.

He was given poppy milk to ease his pain and a stick was put in his mouth that he was told to clamp his teeth on; his mother cried out loud, horrified when she saw what had happened to him, the maester said the eye could not be saved and would have to be taken out.

That he would be a cripple.

He wailed and screamed, feeling the cut of the heated blade on his skin, struggling and writhing like an animal, tied to a chair, and then he stopped feeling anything, staring dully ahead, his mother and Aegon unable to look at it.

He saw her as if in a dream, and though she always smiled at the sight of him, this time she screamed loudly, terror and fear in her eyes.

She covered her mouth with her hand trying to hold back the sounds that came from her throat.

Then he understood.

So what if he had claimed a dragon, if she would never desire him again?

How would she force herself to marry someone who was from now on supposed to look like him?

He returned to King's Landing with the thought that all was lost and he didn't want to see anyone, much less her.

He didn't want her tears of sympathy, her assurances that she still loved him, her pity, the fact that in order not to offend him she would refrain from showing how disgusted she now was by his face.

He was no fool.

Her letter only angered him − he tore it into little pieces clenching his lips, thinking she was an idiot, giving him books now that he had lost one eye, reminding him that he would never see well again, that he would always be defective, that he would have to learn everything from the beginning.

However, as soon as he did so he immediately regretted it and burst out crying, looking at the pieces of parchment lying on his sheets, thinking of how he wished he could read it again because it was her handwriting, her words to him.

His conviction of his ugliness and the fact that what had happened crossed him out in her eyes as a man she could desire deepened his state into complete withdrawal, sinking into the darkness of his thoughts, fears and desires.

He needed someone to loathe, to throw all his ill emotions at, and he had chosen Luke as such a person, however it was the thoughts and dreams of her that kept him awake at night.

Waiting for her letters was his obsession.

She sent one every two months, always on the same day, for many years. At first they were short and full of uncertainty, but then it seemed to him that she had the impression that he didn't read them anyway, so she began to write and confide in someone who no longer existed, revealing to him the darkness and suffering of her own heart.

He was embarrassed by his own reactions, that whenever he saw a sealed message from her lying on his table he would take it reverently and sit down on a chair by the fire, as if in some kind of ceremony pulling off the lac and unrolling it slowly, feeling his heart beat fast.

Dragonstone appears to me like a prison, like a black coffin, the sky above me full of clouds. I can't remember the last time light dawned in my heart − when I wake up I wonder for a moment about the meaning of it all, only to realise that thinking about it is pointless, it only sinks me further into the darkness.

It seems that the more I move away from what surrounds me, the greater the silence that settles in my head.

After what happened something inside me died.

Not in the aspect of my body, but in the sense of a conviction that something is missing, like when you look in a mirror reassembled from hundreds of pieces and, even though it is whole again, you can clearly see its cracks.

I wonder, are you sleeping well, uncle? Are you having nightmares again? I often return in my dreams to that night. I see you and although I want to say something, I can't get anything out, just as I did then. I wake up with the conviction that I am still a child.

I pray a lot, although I don't know myself to which gods anymore. I guess to any of who would be willing to listen to me. They don't answer me, just like you.

He repeated to himself in his mind that he would read her despairing, feminine ramblings to mock her, but in fact he was immersed in her thoughts, in her world, trying to imagine her, analysing each word with pietism, returning to the sentences that had taken the most root in his heart and would not leave him afterwards for days.

He read her letters for hours, treating such evenings like a sacred day, running his thumb over his lower lip, staring dully ahead in the light of the blazing fire, thinking of her words.

Although he pretended that what she wrote meant nothing to him, once in a while, usually when he was waiting for her next message, he would take all her letters and read them one by one, analysing how her handwriting had changed, now much prettier and assured, how her choice of words had evolved, rich and full of metaphors.

He knew that, like him, she read a lot.

She never brought up the matter of his or her family, the details of their conflict, their betrothal and the fact that his mother had insisted that he marry one of Lord Baratheon's daughters.

When he learned that Rhaenyra planned to marry his niece to her cousin of House Arryn he grabbed all her letters she had sent him over the years, which he kept locked in his wooden drawer, and almost threw them into the fire, hesitating at the last moment, squeezing them in his hand, panting with rage.

Although he kept repeating to himself that it was a good thing he wouldn't have to take a bastard wife, immediately his mind went into a fury at the thought that she might have become someone else's mistress, borne children to other man, and he found himself sinking into her letters again, as if re-appropriating her in this way.

He feared nothing more than that one day she would stop writing to him.

He dreaded what he would do then.

The days when Aegon could mess with him were long gone. His older brother the drunkard knew he was no match for him in hand-to-hand combat, he was taller, smarter and stronger than he was.

Yet it was Aegon who was to inherit everything that would not fall to Rheanyra as future queen.

He wanted to be his opposite in every sense of the word; his appearance made him even more isolated from the opposite sex and he didn not look at women at all, spending long hours in the Great Sept with his mother praying at her request.

If it had been up to him, he would have prayed to the gods of Old Valyria, but he saw her loneliness and loss, and wanted to be a support for her, a son she would be proud of.

Despite what he tried to tell himself, the tension he felt as a man grew stronger within him, even more so in the evenings when he leaned over her letters again, when he thought of her scent, of her hand holding the quill.

He wondered involuntarily what she looked like now, what he would notice if he undressed her, if he exposed her bare breasts to him.

Would they fit in his hand, would they be soft and warm?

Would she moan sweetly if he touched her there?

He tilted his head back, trying to read further, settling himself more comfortably in the chair, his free hand slipping under his breeches, gripping his already half-hard, throbbing manhood.

He imagined that it wasn't his hand but hers that was touching him, that she wasn't disgusted by him, that just like before her hands were stroking his cheeks, her lips were finding his in a sweet, warm kiss.

A murmur escaped his throat at the thought, a wave of heat surged over him and he quickened, fucking himself with his own hand until he came with a low sigh of relief, imagining that she was sitting on top of him, that he had just filled her with his seed, that she was begging him not to stop.

However, when he regained his sanity he felt rage and shame.

He hid her letters in a drawer and did not take them out for weeks, as if offended that it was their fault he had to pray again and beg the gods for forgiveness.

He promised himself that this would not happen again, however, it always ended the same way.

The knowledge that he could not forget her enraged and calmed him at the same time, as if this state was natural, the parallel hatred and desire for her became one and the same in his eyes.

He hated her because he desired her, desired her because he could not have her, could not have her because he hated her.

He locked himself in this circle, not allowing anyone to see what was poisoning his mind and heart.

If in the poems women appeared innocent and bright, she was to him the symbol of his downfall, his flame of his eternal suffering, which burned him every day, but which he did not dare to extinguish knowing that complete darkness would then prevail inside him.

When it became known that Vaemond Velaryon had challenged Luke's claim to the throne of Driftmark he laughed out loud at the Small Council meeting, amused, embarrassing his mother and grandfather.

He thought the gods were cruel but fair.

The grin disappeared from his face, replaced by a strong heartbeat when their Queen conveyed that Rhaenyra, along with her entire family, would appear in King's Landing in a few days to settle the matter.

With her entire family.

He sat by the fireplace that evening, running his thumb over his lips, feeling that there was complete panic in his mind, hundreds of thoughts running through his head.

He wasn't ready for this.

He didn't want to see her.

He wanted nothing more than to see her again.

He was disgusted by her and her brothers, by the fact that he would be sitting at the same table with her.

Would she touch him with her soft hand? Did she still smell of vanilla? Would she whisper that she missed him?

What was he to answer if she did?

Mock her, tell her that she should retain the remnants of her dignity.

Tear off her gown, press his lips to her bare body, saying that he would sooner kill her than let her marry someone else.

He let out a loud shuddering breath, burying his face in his hand, feeling like his head was about to explode, his heart pounding like mad.

He had the feeling that he was losing his mind, that he was descending into madness.

When he saw Jace and Luke among the crowds, when he saw how small and skinny they were compared to him, when he saw their mouths wide open in shock as they realised who they were looking at, he thought he had never felt more satisfied in his life.

"Nephews. Have you come to train?" He asked in a deep, teasing voice feigning concern as he played with the hilt of his sword in his hand, flipping it between his fingers.

He wanted nothing more than to humiliate them in public.

His musings and wild excitement were interrupted by Vaemond's entrance into the courtyard − he grinned broadly at the sight of him, feeling a sense of satisfaction, sighing quietly, thinking of how the gods had rewarded his patience.

He turned impatiently, extending his hand to his servant, willing him to hand him another wooden shield and froze in half-step, out of the corner of his eye noticing a silhouette looking at him from the cloisters.

It seemed his heart knew who was standing there even before it reached his mind, for it began to pound like mad, his breath stopped in his throat.

He forced himself to look there again and that's when he saw her − he couldn't believe how much she had changed.

Although he could see the obvious features and similarities by which he recognised her immediately, her eyes, her eyelashes, the shade of her hair, the shape of her nose and face, it seemed to him that if she had been a bud when she left the Red Keep, she was now a flower that had blossomed, a ripe fruit that begged to be plucked, to bite into its flesh.

It occurred to him, looking at the unashamedly exposed bare skin of her shoulders, that it must have been pleasantly soft and warm.

He imagined his lips brushing the hollow of her neck, the scent of vanilla he would smell and he shuddered, ashamed and horrified at how hard his manhood throbbed in his breeches.

This sight, so clear, blunt, final, completely shocked him, and though it lasted only a moment, he managed to remember the shape of her breasts and hips, the shape of her mouth, her terrified gaze full of longing, from which he felt a tightness in his throat and this huge, overwhelming, cruel desire.

He turned away from her, furious, thrusting his sword at Criston, their blades clashing in the air with a loud clang of steel.

That evening he felt that something hung in the air, he felt her presence in the keep, he had the impression that if he turned he would see her silhouette behind him.

He played between his fingers with his dagger and looked at it, wondering if he would feel relief if he killed her, if he would then regain control of his body and mind again.

Maybe it was the right path.

Maybe it was because of her that he was unable to move on.

He shuddered and tensed all over when he heard a quiet knock on the door to his chamber − he felt a cold sweat on the back of his neck, knowing that it was her, that destiny had reached him.

He felt it in his bones.

He wanted to remain silent, he wanted to show her that she no longer had access to his world, that he recognised years ago that there was no way for them that they could walk together.

I pray a lot, although I don't know myself to which gods anymore. I guess to any of who would be willing to listen to me. They don't answer me, just like you.

He closed his eye, feeling a squeeze in his throat at the thought of those three sentences that echoed through his mind and heart like a bell, that undeniable desire on her part to be reunited with him that he pretended not to share.

"Come in." He said coldly, feeling the thrill of excitement, his heart pounding so hard that he felt like it was going to burst out of his chest.

The door opened with a quiet creak of wood, and she appeared in it, surrounded by the glow of candlelight, looking like a saint, like a ghost, like an innocent, sweet maiden who was lost in the black maze that had always been meant to lead her to him.

He resigned himself to the fact that there was no escape from it.

She closed the door behind her and turned to look at him; he wasn't sure if it was the flames that was trembling or if it was her body that was quivering all over with fear, in her big eyes terror, desire, suffering, everything she had written to him about.

Only after a moment did he realise that his jaw was clenched, that he was involuntarily still playing with his dagger in his hand as he looked at the indistinct silhouette of her naked body peeking through from under her nightgown, her long dark hair loose, its curls falling freely over her back.

He felt his length throbbing hard at the thought of her coming to him dressed as a lover, as if she were his, and he licked his lower lip with his tongue, catching himself breathing loudly.

Gods, how long he had waited for this.

"Did you received my letters?" She asked quietly, as usual without any further pleasantries, her voice trembled slightly betraying her fear. He shuddered to hear that she no longer sounded like a child, the way she spoke was melodious and pleasant, soft, warm.

"Yes." He replied in a low, deep voice, sounding like an echo in an endless, dark bottomless well. He saw that she blinked rapidly, as if she hadn't expected such an answer; she pressed her lips together and swallowed loudly, gathering the courage to say more.

She knew she had ventured into the dragon's cave and might never leave it again.

He knew, he felt that she was aware of what was on his mind, that she saw it in his gaze.

"Have you read them?" She asked at last, there was something final in her question.

He parted his lips slightly, lifting his chin in a defiant gesture, stretching comfortably in his chair, wondering if he should humiliate her with words that he had burned them all.

To let her know that she no longer meant anything to him.

He wanted to say it, but he couldn't.

"Yes, my Lady Strong. I have read them all. Many times, here, in this chair." He hummed, running the blade of his dagger across the armrest, making a deep, chiseled line on it.

Go on, he thought, ask me why I didn't write back, what I thought of your tendentious, weepy musings, what I thought of your feminine, touching guilt, of your weakness, of your coming to me now like a dog to beg forgiveness.

She, however, asked nothing.

He shuddered and threw her a surprised glance as she suddenly moved ahead and walked around his chamber, as if she had lost interest in the subject, making him feel discomfort, as if he had lost control of the situation, his advantage over her.

"Does your mother-whore know you're here?" He asked dryly, coldly, wanting to take away her confidence, to embarrass her, to strike at her dignity, reminding her that she herself had come to a grown man in such a shameless negligee.

She, however, merely threw him a surprised glance as she approached his bookshelves, the small one he had been given as a child replaced by three new ones, made of oak wood, high to the ceiling, filled to the brim.

She reached for one of the volumes and he felt a squeeze in his throat when he saw that she had taken out The Reflections on the Dignity of the Ancient Philosopher Areon.

"My, as you put it, mother-whore, never knew when I visited you, uncle. I was very determined not to be caught." She said calmly, but with an air of regret and weariness, as if the situation between them was tiring her, as if she believed that facing him like a ghost from the past would allow her to move on.

He thought they both could have done it, but he wasn't sure if the blade he held in his hand wouldn't have cut her neck then.

The thought that someone else might touch her body made him furious.

He snorted, turning his gaze to the flames, involuntarily turning his dagger in his hand − he grinned despite being tense and bitter.

"Do you often visit men like this?" He asked reluctantly, though inside he was dying to prove to himself that surely she had already slept with her guards or other men who would give her pleasure, that the sweet, innocent girl he remembered was long gone.

He heard her footsteps and felt her presence; he lifted his eyes to her, surprised, and noticed that her gaze was cloudy, her brow furrowed.

She looked as if she had been exceptionally offended by those very words.

"Have you no shame?" She asked him in a cool, trembling voice; he could feel the pain in the way she asked the question, his lips tightened into a thin line.

He was struck by how direct the question was.

He wasn't used to being spoken to like that.

But before he had time to respond with anything, to finally stab her in the back with words that were like poison, she began to speak, as if a dam had suddenly burst inside her and her thoughts poured out at him.

"I don't know who you are, the man who sits now before me, but if there is even a fragment of the boy I was meant to marry in you, let that boy know that he was and will be the only one in my heart. He was my best friend and I failed him. It is hard to live with the thought that someone you loved so deeply has died in a way, but there is neither a grave to pray over nor any hope of peace for his soul. What I fear is that the boy I knew has disappeared among the darkness and is dying in it every day."

He was ashamed that he felt a squeeze in his throat, that he felt a burning under his eyelids, that his heart was pounding like mad, that he froze completely in disbelief and shock as he stared at her wide-eyed.

She was crying in front of him, as if she was really mourning someone's death, and he didn't know what to do, even if he wanted to humiliate her, tell her to leave, he couldn't get anything out of himself.

He drew in air loudly and his whole body stiffened, the dagger fell out of his hand with loud clatter when she surprised him completely by sitting down on his lap, snuggling into him like a little child and burst out sobbing.

He had the feeling that she was not embracing him in the here and now, but a figure from the past that she missed so much.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She whined in a desperate, trembling, quavering voice − he felt he was struggling to catch his breath, his nostrils filled with her scent, the smell of vanilla, her familiar warmth, his manhood hidden beneath his breeches swelled in response to this sudden, unexpected closeness.

She shuddered feeling it and looked up at him, her face flooded with tears, terrified and ashamed, her gaze asking him what she had just felt underneath her. He began to breathe through his mouth, feeling the panic rising inside him because of the heat he felt in his lower abdomen.

There were drops of her tears on her eyelashes, her eyes big, her gaze hot, tender, terrified, her cheeks flushed with emotion, her lips puffy and plump, slightly parted in an accelerated breath.

"Can I kiss you?"

He wasn't sure if he really heard it, it seemed to have only resounded in his head as his memory of that sunny day, but involuntarily he leaned lower.

He sighed as if relieved when her arms suddenly embraced his neck, her breasts snuggled into his tunic, and her wonderfully wet, soft lips pressed against his in a sticky, loud kiss.

They both moaned into each other's mouths as they felt him throb under her again, harder this time − he wasn't sure if it was his will that guided the movements of his hands as one clamped down on her hip and the other on the back of her neck, holding her in place, not allowing her lips to pull away from his as he slid his tongue deep into her throat.

They both trembled as he tentatively began to rock his hips, rubbing against her, overwhelmed by her familiar closeness and scent, her so-needed, gentle hands stroking his hair and cheeks, her thumb running over his scar under his eye patch.

The sight of her body, her sweetly parted lips, her hot gaze in which everything lurked, and her scent, the smell of fucking vanilla filled his entire mind.

He rubbed against her his already hard cock again and again, sliding his free hand under her chemise, placing it on her naked, hot hip, digging his fingertips into her skin, his manhood reacting to his movements instantly with a strong, pleasurable throbbing, he involuntarily began to pant.

He saw the blush on her sweet, innocent face, her hips in a slow, smooth motion began to move back and forth, pressing what was underneath her; he shuddered all over feeling it and they both sighed quietly as her fingers ran over his scarred cheek.

"− uncle −" She whispered softly into his mouth, exactly like in his dreams, like when he touched himself between his thighs with his hand, with longing and desire.

He was unable to remember when she pressed her sweet-tasting lips to his, hugging her soft breasts into the fabric of his tunic, what the reason for their disagreement was, it seemed to him to be completely trivial and unfounded.

He thought it was obvious that the lovers had argued with each other and then reconciled.

That was all he thought about as he undid the ties of her nightgown, sucking and caressing her mouth, jaw and neck with his swollen lips, leaving wet, hot marks on her skin, his hands slid it slowly off her shoulders, revealing her bare body, her lovely breasts, unashamedly before him.

He delighted in this sight, almost mythological, noble, for breasts were the joy of husbands and the source of milk for their offspring, something beautiful, admirable.

He could feel her trembling all over in his hands, terrified by her negligee; he was sure now that no one had ever seen her naked before him and this thought spread like a wonderful, hot wave through his body.

"− easy − your husband will treat your body with proper respect −" He murmured in a deep voice trembling with arousal, his large hand grasped one of her breast and squeezed it tentatively; he sighed feeling how warm and soft it was, he heard her surprised moan.

He grasped her cheeks in his fingers, with a brutal, sudden movement drawing her face closer to his; his hand slid lower, ran over her soft, wet, full lips. She moaned helplessly because of the increasingly rapid bucking of his hips, the bulge in his breeches rubbing against the spot between her legs.

"− please −" She babbled, and he decided to take pity on her, sliding his tongue deep inside her throat, stifling her loud mewl, his fingers began to tease and play with her nipple, her whole body shivered; he felt her hands tighten in his hair, her lips melt into his in a quick, hot dance of saliva and teeth.

"− uh − I − I feel a tickling inside me, uncle −" She mumbled out as innocently as if she really didn't know what was happening to her, as if she wanted him to help her understand what her body was trying to tell her, however he, hearing this, lost his temper.

Despite the material of his breeches separating them where their bodies met, he could feel her moisture.

She was wet.

She wanted him inside her.

"− it's understandable − you missed your uncle − hm? −" He whispered into her mouth with a kind of tenderness and understanding that surprised him, as if it had been obvious that this was how it would end. She nodded quickly like a child who agreed with his teacher, who wanted to be guided, to be shown what was right.

She squealed as he stood up with her, holding her in his arms, just thinking about the fact that he hadn't felt this calm for years, the sight of her, the smell of her made his head spin.

He couldn't even remember why he was mad at her, why he hadn't written her back, why he wanted to kill her.

How could he ever hurt her, his sweet little wife?

"− lie on your back − yes, just like that −" He murmured with delight, looking at her partially exposed body; her lips was pink and puffy from his caresses, her breathing quick as she looked at him dreamily, watching as he began to undo the fastenings of his tunic, getting rid of it and his chemise, leaving only his breeches.

He climbed onto the bed with a loud creak of wood, not quite sure what he should do, sensing subconsciously, however, that this was the day of their reunion, their reconciliation after years of separation, the figures of Lord Baratheon's daughters and Lord Arryn's son seemed to him nothing more than a joke.

Aegon spoke to him of how wonderful it was to taste the woman between their thighs, that they quivered with delight when he licked them there, and since he would devour her whole if he could, he decided to try.

She was horrified and distraught when she saw his face between her thighs; she tried to push him away, asking him fearfully what he was going to do, but only tilted her head back as his tongue ran over her leaking, throbbing, hot womanhood, the sound she made surprised even him.

"− o-oh, gods −" She whimpered as he licked devotedly what spilled out of her, the taste and flesh of his wife, her proof that she didn't despise him, that she still wanted him, that her tight cunt was waiting for him and for his caresses.

"− have you touched yourself here? −" He asked between one lick of his tongue and the next, her thighs trembling in his hands, her fingers clenched in his hair, trying to rub against his face. He grinned involuntarily sensing her desperation, seeing that she nodded and ran the tip of his nose over the bud hidden between her folds, she moaned loudly when he did it.

Encouraged, he grasped it in his mouth and began to suck on it, licking it with his tongue; her whole body arched, uncontrollable moans erupted from her mouth. He tried to cover her lips with his hand, fearing that someone would eventually hear it, but she clamped her hands on his wrist, blocking his movements.

"− please, uncle, too much − too much −" She whined out trying to escape; he stopped, seeing that her body was shaking in convulsions, surprised how sensitive the female body was and how many secrets it hid.

He thought he now understood why it was Rhaenys that Aegon the Conqueror wanted in his bed.

In the art of the body, one could not be aggressive and brutal as on the battlefield.

What they were doing was some sort of a feast, tasting and satisfying their desires, full of moistures and hot embraces.

He hummed as he leaned down again and slipped his tongue deep inside her, feeling how rough and wet her fleshy walls were, groaning quietly as her wonderful taste spread across his palate.

"− uncle − mghmm −" She mumbled breathing hard, with each flick of his tongue drifting away more and more, he could feel her insides pulsing all over around nothing.

"− it'll be wonderful to feel it clench around my cock one day − don't you think, sweet niece? −" He asked, pressing his face closer to her body, licking and rubbing her walls at the spot that when he touched it with the tip of his tongue she trembled the most, moaning helplessly, her hips coming up to meet his face, her breathing getting louder and louder.

"− oh g-gods, Aemond − oh gods,oh gods,oh gods −" She mewled, startling him as she raised herself up on her elbow, tilting her head back, bliss and delight painted on her face, her plump, glossy lips parted in sweet moans as if in disbelief that something so wonderfully pleasurable had shaken her body.

It was the first time he had ever seen female fulfilment and it was a stunning, wonderful sight.

He groaned low as he felt how much moisture flowed out of her, kissing her hot, throbbing entrance devotedly, slowly licking everything off, not wanting to waste a drop, even though she begged him to stop.

Everything he drank from her was for him, the wonderful nectar of his sweet wife.

He rose on his knees, wiping his face with his hand, looking at her in disbelief, panting loudly; she lay as if without strength, with her hands spread on either side of her head, her plump, puffy lips slightly parted in ragged breath.

His niece.

"Touch me." He demanded, slipping off his breeches, taking her hand in his, with a desperate, sudden movement clamping her fingers on his swollen, twitching manhood, leaking from his own wetness. They both moaned helplessly when, with movements of his hand, he showed her how she was to touch him.

She looked up at him in shame, squeezing him with sure up and down strokes, feeling him throb all over in her grasp; he rocked his hips involuntarily, sensing that he was embarrassingly close to fulfillment.

"− fuck − fuck, come here −" He gasped, grabbing her by her hair, forcing her to rise up and kiss him − their lips collided in a sticky, messy kiss, the combination of their tongues and their saliva, the smell of her, the sight of her bare body, the scent of her sex, her moisture around them, proof of what they were doing.

Against their gods, against their family.

He didn't care what happened next.

"− don't fucking stop − faster − oh fuck-fuck-fuck −" He growled out and moaned low, surprised at the helpless sound that came from his throat, coming with a sigh of relief onto her nightgown, his translucent, pearly spend spurting out onto her, startling her; he hushed her with his kisses, whispering to her between the sticky brushes of their lips.

"− easy, it's just me − shhh −" He whispered, letting go of her hand, allowing her to release her grip, her fingers all sticky with his seed.

"− lick it off − don't waste a drop −" He growled, wrinkling his eyebrows and she swallowed loudly, obediently licking her finger after finger, looking him straight in the eye. He watched her with satisfaction, thinking of how obedient and good a wife she would indeed be.

"− you are going to spend the night with me −"

______

From the author: In Stay and love, leave and die oneshot Aemond would not allow her to enter his chamber, he would remain silent - in his opinion, she had forgotten about him and suddenly wanted to regain his favor, which he found pathetic and irritating, not worth his attention. None of her letters reached him through the years, having been intercepted and burned by Otto. The next day, he informed his mother that either she would leave the Red Keep or he would, and she decided to return to Dragonstone so as not to escalate the conflict. In that universe, they actually speak to each other only in Strom's End.

______

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

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astrologylunadream · 6 months

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Who am I destined to love?💌☁️🔗 [Soulmate reading] (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

Hey it's Lunadream🤗 We will be doing a reading on your destined lover!💗 hope you find your message🌸💫

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the love you long for, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~🌸🌟

Pile 1🦊

Pile 2🦢

Pile 3🛋

Pile 4🎹

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> 💌

Pile 1🦊

Sign energy: Forgiveness, Anger, True feelings, Fame, Singer, 3rd house, Cancer, Moon, North node, Gemini, 🪐🧩🌃🛎

☁️Your energy: You guys have a fiery energy about you, very kind and fun loving. You are very emotional and tend to have outbursts if your emotional state is not safe or well taken care of. You could love singing and I'm getting a more specific message that someone in this pile has a famous parent/mom, a singer mom if there are any of you in my pile 1😆 You get frustrated easily but those feelings come from your true heart, and you express yourself openly and genuinely. I feel like this pile doesn't back down when angry💢 You could be a night owl, prefer the night time. I feel like you're more in touch with your emotions at night, like cinderella I'm hearing "when the clock strikes twelve" and suddenly you are your true self at night, your openly emotional real self.♡ You may feel inclined to become famous or a public speaker, sharing your thoughts and ideas with those who need it the most.

💘Who you're destined to love: Fox, Neck, Taurus, Gemini, Fix, Leo, South node, Air, Aries, Water, 🎡🦀🍭🚀 A very fun and gorgeous person awaits my pile 1, if you were drawn to the fox here it came out again so this is your confirmation this is definitely the pile!! This could be someone from your past, you will feel a sense of familiarity with this person. They have a more so direct approach to communication and think fast. Very witty, intelligent and a natural problem solver. Taurus, Gemini, Leo, or Aries placements, they may have Sun conjunct Venus or Mercury I feel. They have a very attractive neck, especially with the Taurus energy. As for the purpose of this destiny, I'm seeing as someone you are destined to fix, almost help in a way, your love is meant to heal this person on an emotional level. They will be so glad they met you, like you were fated to help them. It's giving heaven sent angel vibes <3 They will see you as an answer to their prayers, and things will only look up from there.😊 This destiny is an emotional journey for you both, connecting through mutual understanding and comforting one another is the true reason for this connection. It will heal and nurture your hearts greatly.♡ It will be a fun, pleasant and in some ways childlike relationship made of pure love and trust.

💌Messages from them: I'll never forget you, I finally get it, Our love is a game, I know exactly how you like it, I see you, Extra cards: Daily, Follower, Angel, Green, Crazy, 8th house, Earth, Chiron, Water, Sun, (Guardian angel vibes🥺💫)

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!💌

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the fox emoji~🦊 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💞

Pile 2🦢

Sign energy: Cafe, Long term, Endurance, Stomach, Hair, North node, Aquarius, Gemini, ⛵😂🌉🤍

☁️Your energy: You guys have such a graceful vibe, I see so much pure cleansed energy with this pile. Elegant swan energy for you guys <3 Most of you in this pile are looking for long term commitment, so you may be hoping that the one you are destined to love is someone you will be with for a long time. Some of you work as a barista/job at a cafe☕💕 Your hair is gorgeous and people talk about it a lot.💇‍♀️ Aquarius and Gemini placements overall air signs but I'm getting such indirect Virgo energy from this pile omgggg any Virgo's in my lovely pile 2??😂 Btw this emoji!!😂😂😂 Do you use it alot?? Could be significant for any of this pile, you may laugh a lot and your laugh is very light and beautiful. I'm seeing a future of laughing and happiness with this pile I feel like that is also your destiny to just, laugh and have fun. Just loosen up a bit and enjoy the little things that make you happy, being grateful is meant for you my pile 2's <3 You have such an angelic presence about you, so admirable and full of kindness and beauty. You may want to meet your future but don't like the steps to get there, but I'm hearing only of you endure the journey of your hopes can you arrive at the destination of fulfilling them. Haha maybe that resonates with some of you, I feel like you may drink coffee or tea often. Cafes are your jam!

💘Who you're destined to love: Comfort, Love, Shame, Present, Blind, 12th house, Lilith, Eros, Neptune, Air, 🤣🤒😤🧲 Okaaay my pile 2's we have some interesting energy going on with this 👏person👏 You are definitely destined with this person romantically, I'm hearing fated connection. This is someone who is seemingly new or not experienced with love, they make mistakes and don't know what they're doing most of the time.🥺 They also have so many fantasies about it some that they are shameful of or embarrassed to meet, they have a some darker needs too in a romantic connection. Many of their turn on's in a partner are subconscious fears aswell. I get the vibe this person isn't the best at communiting their desires, it makes them feel vulnerable and out of place like a fish out of water. Pisces/12th house and air placements are possible. They are a dreamer, they have this "where am I? Who am I?" type of vibe😂😂 like they are just one with the energies, I feel like this person is very in tune with the spiritual side of life themselves. Your person is very attractive in a soft aesthetic way, ethereal and beyond physical charms that rope you in like a buoy in the crashing waves of the sea🌊 You are destined to love this person with all your heart, to cherish eachother on levels deeper many can experience. A soulmate connection is likely, and this is such a deep and contemporary romance as well as passionate. You will fulfill many desires with this person, because they take you to higher places you can't explain. I was also getting some "spicy"👀 messages coming out in this pile but since this is not an 🔞 reading I was like 👁👄👁 "not today-" LOL it will not complement the soft/dreamy vibe of this reading lol😂👌 So for my pile 2's that are interested, your person has some intense desire for you for sure maybe check out my dark pac readings for some messages in that😅😳 :'> Overall this is a very intuitive and romantic person, they are all giving and all consuming in this destined love with you.💗

💌Messages from them: I don't look at other people, I'm addicted to your love, You might get hurt, I have nothing to give, I'm not okay (🥺🥺💔) Extra cards: Alien, In, Fantasy, Shopping, Age, 12th house, 9th house, Sagittarius, Jupiter, 6th house (Destiny calls to heal this person and their fantasies, to either restrict or enhance their deepest desires.)

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!💌

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the swan emoji~🦢 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💞

Pile 3🛋

Sign energy: Try, Activity, Library, Unicorn, Keep a secret, Chiron, Gemini, Vertex, Sun, 3rd house, 😫👿🕯⛓

☁️Your energy: Alright my pile 3's could be Gemini, Leo, Virgo or prominent 3rd house energy. I'm getting some heavy vibes with this some, something is telling me that many in this pile are new to tarot or giving it a try for the first time or for some could have quit for a while and come back for some answers. If you felt this way this definitely could be your pile. I am sensing some worried energy, my pile 3's are not telling anyone what they have been up to recently🤫🙊 You have been keeping this to yourself, and maybe even the idea of loving someone is something you are not ready to share just yet. You guys are very unique and smart, you have a talent for knowing things and speaking well. Sometimes you have a dark side that you don't want to show, and it is your deepest worries and thoughts that hold you down. You may read a lot, there could be many book lovers in this pile. I feel as if you are afraid of fate hence why you are trying to see the future you are uncertain of.😟 My pile 3's are very cautious people especially when it comes to life and fate. You are heavily drawn to the occult, but also fear those practices. You see fate and destiny as chains that weigh you down, and you wish to break free to finally reach the clouds above. You are an independent and spiritually wise thinker.

💘Who you're destined to love: Fight, First, Honey, Spring, Skin, 4th house, Cancer, Water, Moon, Capricorn, 🛎🤞☔🍑 Okay my lovely pile 3's I keep getting an anxious energy, this could be about love itself. I hope this may ease my pile 3's uncertainties of the future.😞💖 This person you are destined to love has a strong personality, one that somehow compliments yours. Okay but like when you guys first meet??😍 I'm getting some passionate and bold conflict turned into something really sweet💞 I feel like you argued with this person a lot when you first met, but then after you set aside your disagreements you realized how caring and loving they can be.😢 You may have gotten very defensive about yourself or things they told you, but you soon learned to listen to their words as they hold truth and only wish to help you. They may be born in spring. Cancer and Capricorn energy is strong for this pile's person, you are destined to meet them. This connection will show you to be less skeptical and afraid of conflict and disagreement, and to learn how to understand those who seem cold or not "good" on the surface. I'm feeling this person wasn't nice to you at first, only after you loosened up from the emotional shell you tried to protect yourself with. They finally started being nice to you without reason, or perhaps you didn't realize their kindness until then. This connection is meant to shift perspectives, and hold security in trusting others. This is such a powerful lesson within this fated love omggg😭💗 Some of you might marry this person!!💍

💌Messages from them: Are you attracted to me? Don't talk to me, You can't control me, I'll only distract you, I'll never forgive you (My pile 3 your person really cares about you and they tend to push you away and it seems like they're brushing you off but that's how they show their love for you by removing themselves from the situation to let you heal and take your time😭🤍) Extra cards: One of a kind, Feminine, Hold on, Style, Juno, Moon, Eros, 9th house, Scorpio, Taurus (Omgg they see you as a devine feminine to them, their other half. They want to marry you for real!!🥺)

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!💌

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the sofa emoji~🛋 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💞

Pile 4🎹

Sign energy: Find, Desert, Quiet, Winter, Hands are tied, Eros, 7th house, Sagittarius, Pisces, Earth, 🖌🕯💘🥊

☁️Your energy: Ohh I'm loving the energy of pile 4 we have some prominent Jupiter placements here!! Could be a Libra, Sagittarius or Pisces somewhere in your charts <3 earth signs are possible. I'm definitely getting Sag/Pisces vibes from you guys😇 Creative dreamers searching for self expression and love~ some of you may be more on the quiet/shy side or more submissive in relationships. But outside of them you are a free spirit with a wild heart, you just love having fun and doing the things that make you happy. You want to find a soulmate, someone who is spiritually tied to you... who's heart is locked to yours eternally. You are looking for a person who will appreciate your creativity and spirituality, your soft and illusive dreamy self with a passion to explore life and everything you love. You may be an artist/painter or enjoy those activities, or physical sports like weight lifting or going to the gym. Could be interested in boxing. You are a fighter and a lover because you fight for love. May be born in winter, also I'm getting specific middle east vibes so some of you could be from there.💫💕

💘Who you're destined to love: Soulmates, Forgiveness, Backwards, 11th house, Date, Mars, Cancer, Venus, 1st house, Lilith, 🤕🍳🍂🏷 This is someone from your past, now I'm getting some past lover vibes. For some of you this is an ex, or someone you had an argument with. I'm sensing someone you will meet online, or have possibly already met before. I am seeing that in the beginning of this connection, you or them were too impulsive or quick to complain about the way things started off between you two. After some time I'm seeing the work of fate brings you back to this person, and you will be surprised how much they held on to this connection.😦 Like you will be shocked how much this person really cared (maybe you thought they would be angry/distant with you) but like this person will be on their knees for you omg.😖😳 This person is very emotional and honestly so deeply in love with this pile and they just want a second chance😞💕 They regret their past decisions and the way they treated you, and fate is calling you to accept and love them, this is after all who you are destined to love. There may have been a misunderstanding in the beginning or a first impression that affected your judgement of them, but there will be clarity with this person finally and my pile 4 you will see the truth about them. They are genuinely attached to my pile 4's and have just so much love and respect for you.🥺 You are destined to love and cherish them aswell, as it is very likely you will find this to be your soulmate.💗

💌Messages from them: To me, I feel so confused, It's all fake, Why would you want me? Our eyes have met (They are so scared of loosing you because they feel in their heart you guys are meant to be soulmates😫💞) Extra cards: Despair, Cuddle, Backwards, Previous, Love at first sight, 9th house, Libra, Water, 6th house, Neptune (They would be sad without you pile 4 they feel as if the work of fate brought you together😭😖💖)

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!💌

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the piano emoji~🎹 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💞

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸

Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

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thefirstknife · 6 months

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New article with more details (from Jason Schreier who first broke the story). If you can't see it, I'll copy the whole text under read more.

About 100 employees were laid off in total (8%) and one of the main reasons listed is "underperformance," "sharp drop in popularity" and "poor reception of Lightfall."

So you know when for the last year and a half content creators have been shitting and pissing on the game as a full-time job and the amount of negativity and ragebait content became the only thing to make content about for them? Well they certainly won't take the blame, but I will let it be known. These people either don't understand the influence they have or they do and they're doing it on purpose, and I don't know which of these two options is worse, but I am 100% confident that their campaign of rage and hate contributed to this.

You don't base your entire community around constantly hating everything about the only game you play (despite clearly not enjoying it anymore) and somehow avoid galvanising thousands and thousands of people into perceiving the game negatively. Imagine being employees who have barely worked there for 2 years and the only community reception they've seen is 24/7 hate train for their work and then they get fired because of "poor reception" and "drop in popularity." How can they not take that personally? I am absolutely devastated for these people who delievered a banger product and who were met with an unrelenting barrage of toxic gamer children which ended up having more sway over their boss than them.

Which brings me to the next bit and that's FUCK THE CEO. He is now my mortal enemy #1. I am projecting psychic blasts directly into his brain. What an absolute spineless coward who is more willing to bow down to fucking gamers than to protect his own employees. This is absolutely rage inducing because this has happened before. From the article from 2021 about the toxic culture at Bungie:

Reading this shit from the new article absolutely fucking sent me into blind rage because I immediately remembered this. Another instance of employees suffering because of comments on reddit. And because of toxic players. And proof that leadership is not protecting employees and is instead siding with players.

Match made in heaven. Asshole gamer content creators and asshole CEOs, all of whom sit at home on piles of money made from someone else's labour. I hope they all explode. None of the people that worked on this game deserve this.

Another article with an infuriating comment from the CEO:

In an internal town hall meeting addressing a Monday round of layoffs that impacted multiple departments, Bungie CEO Pete Parsons allegedly told remaining employees that the company had kept “the right people” to continue work on Destiny 2.

"Kept the right people." Really. Veteran composers weren't the right people? Die!

Bloomberg article in full:

Bungie’s decision to cut an estimated 100 jobs from its staff of about 1,200 followed dire management warnings earlier this month of a sharp drop in the popularity of its flagship video game Destiny 2. Just two weeks ago, executives at the Sony-owned game developer told employees that revenue was running 45% below projections for the year, according to people who attended the meeting. Chief Executive Officer Pete Parsons pinned the big miss on weak player retention for Destiny 2, which has faced a poor reception since the release of its latest expansion, Lightfall. The next expansion, The Final Shape, was getting good — not great feedback — and management told those present that they planned to push back the release to June 2024 from February, according the people, who asked not to be identified because they weren’t authorized to speak publicly. The additional time would give developers a chance to improve the product. In the meantime, Parsons told staff Bungie would be cutting costs, such as for travel, as well as implementing salary and hiring freezes, the people said. Everyone would have to work together to weather the storm, he said, leaving employees feeling determined to do whatever was needed to get revenue back up. But on Monday morning the news got worse: Dozens of staffers woke up to mysterious 15-minute meetings that had been placed on their calendars, which they soon learned were part of a mass layoff. Bungie laid off around 8% of its employees, according to documentation reviewed by Bloomberg. Bungie didn’t respond to requests for comment. Employees who were let go will receive at least three months of severance and three months of Bungie-paid COBRA health insurance, although other benefits, such as expense reimbursements, ended Monday, sending some staff racing to submit their receipts. Laid-off staffers will also receive prorated bonuses, although those who were on a vesting schedule following Sony Group Corp.’s acquisition of Bungie in January 2022 will lose any shares that weren’t vested as of next month. The layoffs are part of a larger money-saving initiative at Sony’s PlayStation unit, which has also cut employees at studios such as Naughty Dog, Media Molecule and its San Mateo office. TD Cowen analyst Doug Creutz wrote in a report Monday that “events over the last few days lead us to believe that PlayStation is undergoing a restructuring.” PlayStation president Jim Ryan announced last month that he plans to resign. Many of the layoffs at Bungie affected the company’s support departments, such as community management and publishing. Remaining Bungie staff were informed that some of those areas will be outsourced moving forward.

#destiny 2 #bungie #long post #and like i don't care what's anyone's opinion on lightfall. it doesn't matter #the expansion is fine. there's some bad shit in there as there is in every expansion #literally nothing on this earth was so bad to deserve the amount of vitriol that lightfall got #it was purely motivated by hate and rage from people who have clearly lost their interest in the game a long time ago #no one else normal enough would respond even to a weaker expansion this way. and lightfall wasn't even weaker #literally nothing ever released in destiny deserves to have comments bad enough to end up affecting employees #there's been some bad expansions/dlcs/seasons. whatever. none of them were like... gollum level. not even close #people genuinely treated lightfall like it personally killed their dog. it was insane. the reaction to it was insane.#it stemmed from people who should have stopped playing a long time ago and stopped being content creators for one game #i can't even properly explain just how long and tireless the ragebait content campaign for destiny has been #opening youtube and seeing 10 videos in a row of just complaining and bitching #opening twitter and seeing thousands upon thousands of posts and comments dedicated solely to hating the game #imagine being an employee trying to maintain some communication with the community #hippy was relentlessly bullied by people I've seen suddenly lamenting that she was fired. you caused this #they will never accept even a miniscule portion of the blame for this ofc. they will just keep claiming they don't have that influence #but they do. it's been proven years ago. in the same way #community comments DO reach devs and community comments DO influence what happens to them and the game #'the event is bad' 'meta is bad' 'pvp is bad' 'raid is bad' 'story is bad' stop playing. no longer asking.#it's a video game. if you hate it stop playing. you don't have to justify it to hundreds of thousands of people and take them with you #especially when it leads to employees taking the fall #so to all content creators who are appalled and baffled after spending 2 years hating the game: you did this.#and to the ceo even more: explode into dust and be forgotten

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flanpucci · 1 month

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Hello and welcome to my TED talk today I have decided to write a wall of text about why portraying Dio and Pucci’s relationship as manipulation is actually taking a lot out of Pucci’s agency and character, and diminishing him. Disclaimer that this is not shipping discourse, this is media analysis. I don’t want to talk about whether it is moral or not that they get along, I don’t care, I only want to comment on the media.

So someone sent me a DM telling me that Dio was manipulating an emotionally distraught and vulnerable Pucci into following his plan, and that he exploited him to do all sorts of crimes (framing Jolyne, killing people, stealing discs) by presenting himself as a trustworthy, God-like figure, and called the Heaven plan ‘Heaven’ to get Pucci to follow it by exploiting his religious beliefs.

First of all Dio met Pucci before he was distraught about his sister's situation. After the situation occurred, it is Pucci who seeked him for answers as to why he was alive and not his sibling/s, like he seeked answers from God a few years before by becoming a priest student. Dio left a door open, nothing more. Of course Dio was seeking to be admired, he was also seeking companionship as he has always done ever since he was young, and someone to carry his plan. Pucci was looking for answers, for self-growth, for someone to push him towards the top, towards what he believes is the destiny that was designed for him (the reason he’s alive and not his twin).

Is it forbidden to look for something in someone? Does it make it not genuine? No, we all look for something in a friendship. And this seemed like a fair deal for both. One needs a trusted friend, an ally, but not a blind follower, and as we’ll see later, he needs someone to help him transcend his human? vampire? condition again. The other one needs a reason to live, a quest to fulfill, and hope that he could one day obtain the ‘happiness’ and ‘peace of mind’ that Dio wants so much too. He’s also someone who strives for greatness, who wants to ‘step outside human boundaries’.

Not forgetting that Pucci is someone fueled by a profound curiosity and rationality, it is only natural that he’d side with someone who has the abilities and ambition Dio has. Framing Jolyne, killing people, stealing discs, it is all out of Pucci's agency, long after the death of Dio. He's actually the one who suggested he could store and use Survivor, and he’s the one who asked for it! Dio thought Survivor was useless, that it was only a weakness, and Pucci convinced him with the idea that it could be prove itself useful.

Pucci is shown to have ‘lost’ faith in Christianity very early on, maybe not really having true religious belief at all (as in, the actually believing there’s a God sense.) He got into priesthood for philosophical reasons (seeking answers to an existential question). He seems to be a very pragmatic christian with interests in science that contradicts some of the scripture’s theories.

I don't think calling the plan ‘Heaven’ was a bait based on Pucci's religious beliefs. Over Heaven isn't canon, but it shows Dio having a very Christian mother. He's an intelligent man, born in a very christian time and place, and thought ‘Heaven’ was the name of the kingdom promised to the legitimate ruler of the world, himself. If anything the first time they meet he makes it very clear they're not striving for anything Bible related but for realizing their full potential and finding happiness.

Dio saw very early on that Pucci was not a very faithful catholic, judging by the book he's reading when they meet in the ossuary, and then Pucci commiting crimes even before seeing Dio again (hiring someone to beat up his brother, leaving his brother as dead). He then commits blasphemy by calling him King of Kings and comparing his love to the one he has for God. Pucci does not think of Dio as God, he loves him as he loves God, but he's not blind and mistaken. He refers to him with proximity terms all throughout the manga (even when he's young), never used honorifics like the hunchmen do, calls him 'kimi' (casual/informal ‘you’), 'my close friend'.

Even Dio uses ‘kimi’ instead of the ‘omae’ that shows inferiority that he uses with Vanilla for example. All throughout their scenes Dio is shown slightly seductive at first, then not as overtly seducing as he usually is, he’s talking about the plan, and strategy (even though he still maintains physical contact, I mean, it’s still Dio), and then seems to relax progressively by doing activities and chit-chatting, to the point of becoming paranoid that his weaknesses is known. Yes, Dio was pretty nice and not as big an asshole as usual because he needed someone for the plan, but what did he need? A "friend that he can trust from the bottom of his heart" (信頼できる友), so he tried to make one by not being an asshole, and guess what? He did! And he got scared that he managed to do so, because it's freaking Dio lol. Dio’s life has only been him trying to show dominance, and facing rejection. Heck he was rejected and degraded even when he won that chess game against an adult in the first minutes of the show. But everyone wants friends for a reason! Be it not to be alone, to be loved, to have someone to talk to about certain topics... And we all make efforts and try to be nice to make friends. That's not manipulation that's called not being a dysfunctional piece of shit like Dio usually was shown to be before he met Pucci. Why was he different with Pucci? I'm bringing up the parallel with the Jonadio scene which really show that Dio hasn't changed and is acting the way he always has, testing people, he just has never been met with trust and acceptance, only with rejection, unlike what Pucci has done from their first meeting and after :

Scene plays out very similarly at first, except that this time Dio who hasn’t done anything wrong, but he was expecting to be betrayed and wasn’t, which led him to get paranoid and set up Pucci so that he’d attack him, which he didn’t. And what did Dio do? Apologize and give him a part of what's literally the most important thing he has, 'his' body.

The fact that Pucci kept his 'sentimentality' towards his friend (I quote), his obsessive affection for Dio, and hope in his plan for such a long time is easily understandable, he had everything to win from Dio's plan (which is very different from nothing to lose, he has quite a lot to lose!). He could be cleansed from his sin, or at least put everyone on his level, be granted the reward of unconditional love, he could grow to a close to godly status or be a messiah carrying god's will (be special, push the boundaries of being human), and maybe, just maybe revive his loved ones too! He could rewrite his destiny at best, and at worst, obtain peace of mind. If anything helping Dio might even have been an excuse for Pucci to lie to himself about his real intentions with this plan (unconsciously : finally accomplishing his destiny of being special over his sibling and basically everyone else, consciously : giving everyone the chance to prepare for tragedy + opening everyone's eyes to the fact that what he did, cause his sister's death, was not really his fault since it was written by fate all along.)

Now if you really have a high esteem of Dio's intelligence you can argue that he did it all on purpose, he gave out his weakness on purpose to mellow Pucci, he called the plan Heaven to cater to Pucci's faith, he talked him into doing crimes, pretended to feel equal/inferior so that Pucci would give him his trust... But 1) Dio's not that good at it, has too big trust issues himself and has other means for submitting people to his will (as seen with Kakyoin, Polna...), 2) it's literally written this has to be built on trust which in my opinion completely disqualifies a manipulation aspect to it. Of course there are many other sources that further the idea that they were really friends, I'm thinking about how their relationship is described in interviews or the Jojo Mag, but I wanted this post to focus on canon interpretation.

Thank you for reading my essay, I’m always happy to chat and comment on the dynamics between characters in the material. I am not willing to talk about morality or shipping discourse here so please refrain from sending me such comments.

#jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #pucci #enrico pucci #dio #dio brando #stone ocean #analysis

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whiteheartlight · 3 months

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the concepts of Karzahni and Artakha as Heaven or Hell archetypes fit a lot better in the time period when the Red Star was still active. If you could never truly die, there was no spiritual Heaven or Hell. Instead there was a place on the physical plane that you could go by being extremely moral (which in the Matoran world, mostly means dutiful - and, in Artakha, extends to mean very skilled at your labor) or extremely immoral (lazy, undutiful, or acting against destiny or unity). The importance of being moral was given weight by these possibilities.

Makes it pretty messed-up that your Turaga was the one who could decide, apparently arbitrarily, if you should be sent to Karzahni. You could really get a dictator Turaga, or, of course, a mad one like Lesovikk's who just sent everybody away.

anyway, it seems like the practice of sending Matoran away to these realms was lost after the Red Star stopped? maybe they no longer knew how to send them, or Artakha closed his realm off in some way. now you can die, but the horrible part is that, from what we know, the only fate awaiting anyone was to live as some kind of zombie on the Red Star for all eternity (okay yes I hate the Red Star arc and I hope Kopaka and Pohatu shut the whole place down permanently. with explosions)

just thinking. morality being based on the three virtues rather than on the actual inherent goodness or badness of an isolated action is also pretty curious. in theory you could justify a lot of bad stuff in the name of unity duty or destiny

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simpxxstan · 7 months

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SVT Masterlist

key

smut: s, angst: a, fluff: f, wip: work in progress.

for works marked as smut (s), please dni if you are not 18+ in age.

Choi Seungcheol

perfect complements

s, f, a, enemies to lovers au, professors!au

series (ongoing)

four and a half years of working together breeds familiarity, resentment, and everything in between. it's almost like living together.

the lady in red

s, f, a, strangers to lovers au, idol!au, sex worker!au

series

it's a strange feeling around you: he's never felt more loved, yet never felt more distant. an enigma, a shadow, a crystal ball with a million lights- you're blinding seungcheol with your lights and he loves it, even if he knows you're slipping away.

2 plus 1 (ft. jeonghan)

s, f, a, arranged marriage au, royalty!au, polyamory au

oneshot

when you're arranged to marry the most coveted prince of the lands and the seas, you can't believe your luck. but you soon realise that you're not really as lucky as you thought. this is all part of the masterplan of a kingmaker.

Yoon Jeonghan

the night shift

f, a, strangers to lovers au, idol!au

oneshot

it’s such a surprise what just three months of your life can do to you. it can actually change your life.

hannie's guide to falling in love

s, f, a, childhood friends to lovers au (inspired heavily by jane austen's emma)

oneshot (wip)

jeonghan loves to play cupid. he's thoroughly successful at it as well. you know it's just his incredible luck, and you can't wait for him to trip and fall. even if you'll be the first one to stop him from falling.

2 plus 1 (ft. jeonghan)

s, f, a, arranged marriage au, royalty!au, polyamory au

oneshot

Hong Jisoo

double take

s, f, a, arranged marriage au, royalty!au

oneshot

some lovers are star-crossed. some are destined to rise from the ashes. and some lovers are bound together by duty, but lovers nevertheless. joshua hong thinks fate is too cruel, but little does he know, that there are stars moving to keep his destiny alive.

falling for u (once again)

s, f, a, idol!au, childhood enemies to lovers au

oneshot

you'd thought you had got rid of joshua hong's annoying smile once and for all, when he had left the country at the age of seventeen. you were wrong. you'd only postponed an inevitable fate.

Wen Junhui

the boy in the library

f, a, college au

oneshot (wip)

you've got a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to visit the fan meeting of your extremely secretive, but massively beloved favourite romcom author. the twist? you're a 100% sure he's not the guy who writes the novels. is it time for you to finally become a detective?

misfits

f, s, a, arranged marriage au, royalty au, (spinoff to "outcasts")

oneshot (wip)

an adopted heir, an unwanted daughter. two misfits matched together. is it a match made in heaven or in hell?

Kwon Soonyoung

to belong (with you)

f, s, a, arranged marriage au, royalty au, (spinoff to "outcasts" and "misfits")

oneshot (wip)

kwon soonyoung has a hard time saying no to anyone. whether it be his father, who sent him to the navy ten years ago, or to his best friend, who's saved his life again and again. but will this flaw become too costly for him when he ends up with a wife and someone else's child in his hands?

Jeon Wonwoo

in rain and in sunshine

s, f, a, supernatural au, soulmate au

oneshot (wip)

wonwoo thinks his curse is blessing. he can live again and again, until you reciprocate his feelings. but the first time he sets his eyes on you- he knows it's nothing but pure torture. after five lives, wonwoo has given up waiting on you. but does he even have that choice?

nobody else

s, f, chaebol au, enemies to fwb to lovers au

oneshot

the girl who was proud about making her own destiny, the boy she swore to never interact with. sometimes it takes a lifetime to know someone, even yourself. because who would've seen any of this coming?

fatal love

s, f, a, criminal au

oneshot

you've built a stellar record for yourself as a criminal lawyer. upholding justice and winning cases without mercy- that's why everyone fears you. and life is perfect, until jeon wonwoo strolls in. literally strolls in, with blood on his hands, asking you to fight his case.

Lee Jihoon

when love knocks on the (studio) door

s, f, a, idol!au, coworkers to lovers au

oneshot (wip)

you've saved jihoon, he knows. you've picked him up from his breaking point and given a new reason to live. but do you know that? he's saved you, that you know. he's redesigned your life and spun your dreams into reality. but does he know that?

Lee Seokmin

yellow roses

s, f, a, stangers to lovers, idol!au, sex worker!au (spinoff to "the lady in red")

oneshot (wip)

you've given up on love, hope and anything warm. lee seokmin is here to give you just all of that.

Kim Mingyu

when the rain stops

s, f, a, chef!au, strangers to lovers

oneshot (wip)

"i'll be waiting for you. when the rain stops." you laugh at mingyu when he says those words. you know it'll only exacerbate the voices in your head. but he's going to show you: you're wrong.

Xu Minghao

hot chocolate at midnight

s, f, a, professor!au, student!au (spinoff to "perfect complements")

series (wip)

professor minghao is the most wonderful man you have ever known. you think he's genius (gorgeous), smart (sexy) and the epitome of an academic intellectual. you're perfectly content in worshipping him from far. but when he's assigned as your phd mentor? you're suddenly not so sure of yourself.

outcasts

f, s, a, period romance au

oneshot (wip)

xu minghao has lived enough, he thinks. he's experienced enough, he's loved enough. clearly not enough, when he finds his soulmate in his son's governess.

Boo Seungkwan

the only one for you

s, f, a, childhood friends to enemies to lovers

oneshot (wip)

first you were partners in crime. and now you're enemies, competitors of the worst kind. but when have you crossed that fine line from love to hate?

Chwe Hansol

lean on me (ft. hiphop unit)

f, a, college au

series (wip)

vernon thinks he's a great friend. the best to ever exist. that's why he's started the campus radio show: to help his best friends confess to their crushes (and relieve him from the agony of listening to sappy love confessions every day). but that's the only reason, right?

Lee Chan

getting closer

s, f, a, idol!au, enemies to friends to lovers au

one shot (wip)

dino is your best competitor. it's your life's goal to beat him in the race of debuting first. dino is also the man frequenting your dreams. it's your heart's goal to chase his affection, even if you're actively trying to stop it.

on my body and on my mind

s, f, pornstar!au, coworkers to lovers au

one shot (wip)

when you join the company, they tell you one rule: never develop feelings in this career. they also tell you to learn from the top senior in the industry. it's really not your fault that the master of seduction drives you crazy and makes you break all rules.

find my complete masterlist here!

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seodami · 2 months

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The tale of the star and the ant | HHJ

Pairing: Idol!Hwang Hyunjin x non celebrity!reader

Genre: fluff & angst

Warning: heartbreak <\3

Word count: 1158

Hwang Hyunjin was an angel. An angel sent from heaven, caringly raised by Eleos, the god of compassion, and kissed by the goddess Aphrodite who gifted him ethereal beauty and the ability to love deeply. Hwang Hyunjin was a masterpiece in every aspect. He was the epitome of perfect.

The first time your eyes layed upon his, you knew he was special. He was so mesmerizing, a smile so kind and warm it made your heart melt a little in the coldness of the long lasting winter days. You knew from that moment on, you wouldn’t and couldn’t forget him.

By your definition, fate personally had decided to grace you with the opportunity to talk to Hwang Hyunjin, laugh with him and even one dance with him. It felt like a series of unexpected and unexplained events, only destiny could have gifted you. He was a bright star in the sky while you were the tiny ant looking up to him, wondering how a star so surreal like him could exist.

And Hyunjin was special. He really was. A star so grounded, so kind and gentle, it was impossible to stay away from. And he welcomed you with open inviting arms and a big smile on his face, letting you in on a well protected side of his. Allowing you to get to know him.

But knowing Hwang Hyunjin was a mess. There were days you wished you would have just stayed in the shadows the day you met him. To save yourself from all the consequences he brought along. But deep down, you still believed in fate’s calling for you.

Knowing him came with floods of messages from old acquaintances and unknown people. It came with intruding questions, uncalled actions and unprofessional behavior. It came with slimy people creeping up to your good side, empty promises and the feeling of loneliness.

But Hyunjin was the reason you stayed up until 3 am in the morning, talking about everything and everyone all at once in your living room, wine glasses swishing in your hands, bubbly laughter echoing through the walls of the dim room. He was the reason you couldn’t stop smiling in the train, at work, at the supermarket, even at the post office. He was the reason your stomach exploded with warm fuzzy butterflies, expanding in every area of your body, leaving you feel so vulnerable, so happy and giddy, so full of pure love.

Every second you spent with Hyunjin was magical. Like a dream. Even if you tried, you couldn’t stop your heart from drumming loudly, racing faster and jumping higher out of your chest. It could have been the lovesick smile he was showing only to you, his big dark eyes watching you full of genuine adoration or the way his fingers gently grazed your skin in every given occasion.

It were the little moments you cherished the most inside your heart, safely secured inside a treasure box with his name written on top of it. The soft kisses shared under the moonlight rain, your stupidly lovesick giggles inside his fancy big bathtub, his fingers playing with your earlobe, grazing your cheek and neck. It was the smell of his hair after a fresh shower, the hourless deep discussions you had in front of his fireplace inside his warm arms and his proud smile radiating pure happiness when he gifted you your own set of keys to his apartment. It was the way he openly invited you to spend Chuseok with his close family and the way he admired you sneakily while you played with Kkami and baked him his favorite cake after an exhausting day. How his beautifully plush lips adorned a teasing smile as he took his sweet time to draw a portrait with so much care of you while you were posing in front of him. How his adorable contagious laughters infected you when you tickled him as you tried to take a little peak at his unfinished work. And how he coyly showed you his more than perfected art piece, showing you just how ethereal you looked in his eyes.

You were so absolutely devastatingly in love with this man, wondering how a feeling so deep and so new could live within you.

But loving Hwang Hyunjin was dangerous. It was everything but it was also too much. Loving Hwang Hyunjin came with threats, wary warnings and shocking revelations. It came with a loss of privacy, paranoia and fear. And it most definitely came with disgustingly deep rooting hate, that seemed to reach no end.

It was endless, brutal and ruthless. Mean, nasty and disrespectful. Despite Hyunjins honorable and restless support and tries to put this behaviour to rest, nothing seemed to stop. People were following you constantly, spying on your every move, making you feel unsafe in your own four walls. It just never stopped.

Loving Hwang Hyunjin came with pain, pain and more pain. And even though your heart screamed for his love, yearned for his touch, longed for his time … it couldn’t get what it wanted. It never could in this world, where he was the star and you were the ant.

So why did fate made you suffer through it all? The pain was unbearable at first, so deep, so mind numbing. It felt as if a crucial part of yourself was torn apart from you. As if someone removed everything happy within you, around you. And with pain, there comes regret. And after that, even more pain … until it all vanished and leaves you with the sour aftertaste of bitterness on your tongue. You hated it with all your heart. What if…

But still loving Hwang Hyunjin despite the heartbreak was the worst. It was something small inside your mind, that would always lead you back to him like a broken record player playing your favorite song on repeat. Never moving on, always longing for the next part, wondering how the future may look like if it wasn’t damaged.

It came with bitter realization after a while. You were no match for him in this life even though your souls still longed for each other after all the pain.

Loving Hwang Hyunjin came with silent promises. Promises to meet at a different time, a different place and a different universe. It came with a reassuring smile and a soft farewell kiss mixed with the saltiness of tears streaming down both your faces.

Hwang Hyunjin was still an angel. He was still an angel sent from heaven, caringly raised by Eleos, the god of compassion, and kissed by the goddess Aphrodite who gifted him ethereal beauty and the ability to love deeply. Hwang Hyunjin was still a masterpiece in every aspect. He was still the epitome of perfect. And he was still the love of your life, your soulmate even if in this universe, fate did not allow you to be with him.

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keruimi · 2 months

Text

Found You

Muichiro Tokito x reader

Warning: Angst but have a proper ending

Note: I notice that my most favored post is Muichiro's oneshot. So I made another one, I hope you enjoyed it

And all along, I believed I would find you. Time has brought your heart to me.

I have loved you

__________________

"Muichiro" I heard Kyojuro-san call for me as I was standing at the engawa of the Ubuyashiki's household.

The other pillars were celebrating inside as I decided to be alone for a while until the Flame Hashira looked for me when he noticed my presence is not with them.

Both of us were silent as I didn't even bother glancing at him.

My heart always feels heavy so talking to anyone wouldn't make it better if they can't grant it.

"It's been 7 years kiddo. You need to move on" I heard him as he sat on the edge of the Engawa that made me stare at him.

He tapped the place beside him as he looked back at me.

I silently sat down on that place and he already had his arms resting on my shoulder.

"Your mind and heart should not always be on her. You have yourself too"

"I can't" I muttered as I felt my eyes started to sting a little as my memories with her keep flashing in my mind.

"She was..." I trailed off as I saw my imagination on her sitting down on the grass as the moon gracefully highlighted her existence.

For my vision, she was the angel that God sent to me.

So why did we end up that way?

Her fading silhouette disappeared in front of me as I swallowed the lump on my throat.

"She was the only one I have"

"And she left, kid. There are really times in our life that the heavens above would send to teach us a lesson and that lesson you learned can be found on someone else" he advised me as he pat my back.

I look down and I can't help but fisted my hands on his words.

"What if I want her to be my everything?"

"Then that's dangerous" he exclaimed before he stared at me.

I felt the tears in my eyes slowly build up as a small smile lifted from my lips on his words.

"You told me.." I breathlessly whisper as I started to have a hard time speaking knowing my next words would make me break down sobbing.

"You told me to set my heart ablaze. Go beyond my limits. Follow my dreams"

Tears started to slide down from my cheeks as I looked up as his facade softened when he saw my state.

"I did what you told me and in exchange..." I started to heave breaths as he ran his hand on my back in an attempt to comfort me.

"In exchange, she left me" I breathlessly let out as he brought my head to his shoulder to help me silence my cries.

I miss her...

I miss her so badly.

"Why is it so painful when I set her free. She was the only one I had when I lost my twin. Why didn't she stay with me" I continue crying as he let me rant the painful words I didn't manage to say to her.

"Why did she deprive me of the explanation I needed. She knew I only have her, she clearly knew that"

My body trembled in anger that would die down the moment I remember my moments with her.

But for now, I can't take it anymore.

"Kid, listen to me" he pulled away before he tapped my arms in a way to get my attention.

"Some people are meant to stay for a while even if we want them to stay forever"

My heart broke more on his words as I can't prevent my sobs from being drowned down.

"You followed your dreams. You love and that's not wrong. But for me kiddo, you need someone better. Someone who would support your dream of protecting the world. Someone who would stick beside you no matter how cruel the destiny you will face. True love is about staying even if there are reasons to leave"

I wiped my tears using my trembling hands as I looked up to him.

"But I always wanted her"

~•°•~

"Chiro" I heard her voice behind me that made me look up and saw her bring food for me and my brother.

She is one of the girls in the village who started to look after me and my brother after my parents died.

She didn't say her reasons but her happiness with us was unexplainable.

Even my brother can't help but soften up with her.

She is the one who put an ointment with the scratches on my arms and always tried her best to get along with my brother.

I overcame my parents death because of her.

She put colors back in my dull world. She helped me manage my brother's anger.

She made the world more bearable.

Until everything fell apart when my brother died due to the injuries the demon inflicted on him.

I almost died too if she didn't immediately call for help.

She helped me survive because of her gut feeling. It broke me when I barely even remembered her the moment I woke up but she didn't hold any hatred against it.

She still stayed as I trained myself to become stronger, to become a better defender.

Because I won't make it if I lose her too.

I train myself to protect her from the cruel challenges that the world will give to her.

But I didn't know she was slowly drifting farther away from me.

That one day, she suddenly burst her real feelings to the new me.

The new me who became a hashira, to help me ease the deep hatred I had for the demons even if I forgot my reason is to avenge my brother.

"I don't want you to become a slayer!" She shouted that loud and clear. That I could hear the fear and disappointment in her tone that broke my heart further.

"I did this to protect you"

"No!" She snapped back as tears filled her own eyes. "You can't risk your life in a battle"

"Y/n" I softly called out for her as I took a hold of her cheek but she didn't want to look me in the eyes at all.

"I'm doing this, so I can protect the people I love" I muttered as she slapped my hands away from her.

"How about yourself? Did you ever think of your life at least? Why do you always need to look for others!" She shouted as anger filled her eyes that made me step back.

It finally dawned to me that she has the same mindset as my brother.

I wanted to become a sword man because I want to protect the people. My brother thought I was useless for it, and she...

She think I would let myself die on the battlefield.

With my heart burning with hatred, I would not let myself die as long as the demons are not annihilated from this world.

"Y/n" I pulled her to an embrace as she tried to remove herself from my grasp.

"I need this to protect you"

"You don't. If you really think I would like this then let me tell you. I really don't!" She shouted as I could feel her hitting my chest but I refused to let her go.

"Why do you need to end up in this fate"

I felt my world stop the moment she weakly uttered those words.

"I ask for help from the wrong people" I pulled away from her as my own eyes reflect my disbelief on her words.

"Y/n"

It sounded like she regretted everything. Just because I chose to become a fighter?

"I hate you!"

Those dreadful words were the last thing I heard as she turned her back from me and walked away.

My feet were frozen and I couldn't even run to catch her.

I can, but I don't have the right words to make her stay.

What was I supposed to do?

Who am I supposed to be just to make her stay in my life.

That day...

I felt like I was really alone in this world.

~•°•~

It's been seven years ever since my family moved to the countryside for a more peaceful life where the village is in harmony and has not been attacked by demons at all.

A place where demons never existed.

Most of the time I thought of that sentence, it only reminds me of the person I decided to leave.

Cruel or not but I did it for myself.

I just can't handle the path he chose for his self.

My thoughts were snap when I remember what I was doing.

I was praying for his own safety.

I looked up and saw the kamidana as I put down my offering before clasping my hands together.

"I pray for his safety"

Even if I left him, even if he thinks I hated him, in the end, I would want him to continue living even if I was not there.

I couldn't accept his dream so I left hoping that he could reach it without me.

Because I know I can't support him knowing he is putting his life at risk.

I don't want to lose someone important to me again.

So cruel or not, I left early so it won't be that painful anymore.

I kowtow in front of the Kamidana before I looked outside the window and the moon started to rise.

How can the night be this peaceful and beautiful but dangerous.

I didn't think of anything anymore as I started to head my way back to my room.

I felt the cold breeze in my room as I noticed that the windows were open. I went outside so I can think better about the choices I made in my life.

One of them was the choice of leaving him.

There are no days I didn't berate myself for it.

It was selfish, because I wanted to lessen the pain and just left him hanging after he lost his family.

But at the same time, isn't it better?

He could follow his dream and at the same time, meet a better woman.

In his story, I am just a side character he shouldn't protect.

Because in the end, I would keep choosing myself.

I sigh as I embrace the coldness of the night as I gaze at the stars above.

I was just a stepping stone for him to be stronger. His reason, but should never be his first choice.

I want him to put himself first before others, before me.

"Yuichiro, I hope you're guiding him" I whispered as I felt my chest tighten.

Seven years, and I still remember both of them no matter how our destiny lined up.

I am still trying to unbind the tangled paths in front of me. The path of my life that I wanted to live peacefully.

I wanted a chosen destiny where I can be happy.

A Fate that wouldn't revolve around him.

My blood turm cold when I hear my mother scream outside my room. Without thinking further, I ran towards her direction and saw blood across the kitchen floor.

My father was holding a sword as the demon had his hand on my mother's neck.

I felt my hands shook in fear as I saw the terror in my parents'eyes.

I put a finger on my lips when my father was about to call my name.

Without a second thought, I took a knife and cut myself on the wrist and finally heard my father calling my name.

"You blood lust monster! I have the blood you wanted" I felt my voice lowered as I said those words.

No matter what, I won't let myself die in this situation.

The demon turned his head on my way and saw his face that almost looked like a zombie.

My body was trembling but I know, I need to stay calm.

"Leave... My mother... Alone" I stated those words with a cold tone as I keep my eye contact with him.

When he let my mother down the floor, I started to step back.

"Dad, I know what I need to do. Just stay with mom" I uttered those words as I keep my eyes on the demon who took a step forward as I step back.

On the side, I saw my father's silhouette embrace my mom's before I opened the door and made a run outside.

I can hear the quick footsteps of the demon beside me as I see the village. There are bodies on the ground as I realized there are more than one demon here.

"I have marechi blood!" I shouted like a lunatic in hopes to get the attention of the demons that attacked the village.

And I did

Knowing the selfish nature of these creatures, they would fight with each other for my blood.

I took the sword of one of the bodies and realized they were from the demon slayer corps.

These people were his peers.

I removed that from my mind when they started to run towards me while others fought with each other.

I slashed the neck of the other demons with all the strength I've got but it was not enough.

One demon manages to take a hold of the edge of the sword before pulling it away from me by force and knowing one of the wrists has a wound.

It started to sting in pain. I hissed as I fell forward to the ground.

My fears were gone the moment the pain settled into my system as I took a hold of my bleeding wrist to stop the blood from flowing.

They just growl when I do that.

Well as long as they are far away from the village, I can make it.

As long as I find a way.

But not even a minute passed by, a demon pounced on me with its fangs shown.

I thought I was going to die at that moment.

If it weren't for a sudden figure who showed up behind me and kicked the demon away from me.

He took his sword out and I immediately recognized the words written on his sword.

'Destroyer of Demons'

I felt my heartbeat quicken when It finally dawned on me the pale turquoise color at the end of their long hair as they easily killed the demons that surround us.

With their back facing me, I can only hear the wind and the sound of insects across the forest.

The figure in front of me finally turned in my direction and I knew...

I knew my destiny is tangled with his again.

His blank gaze slowly softened when his eyes laid on me. A look of relief crossed on his ways as he took strides towards me.

"Y/n" I heard his voice tremble when he called my name as tears built up on my eyes.

"I finally found you"

The happiness and relief on his tone was recognizable as he pulled me into an embrace, hiding his displayed emotions on my shoulders.

I felt my clothes started to get wet and I realized he was crying.

"Mui" His arms grip around me as I feel my chest tighten. The pain...

It was clear to both of us.

It was really clear that no one wanted to be away from each other. All those years because of selfishness, we went through the feeling of longing and heartbreak.

The Selfish I chose for myself. A choice that should be a fuel to his hatred for me.

So he can forget about me...

Yet the emotion I expected him to give me the moment we meet again, was nowhere to be found.

It was simply happiness when he found me.

It made me realize the precious someone I have abandoned that made me have the urge to embrace him like he did.

In the end,

I can't completely remove the feelings that have slowly built up within me

The truth is...

I just don't want him to die on me...

#kimetsu no yaiba #love #demon slayer #hashira x reader #kny #kny hashira #kny fanfic #comfort #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer muichiro #kny muichiro #muichiro x reader #muichiro tokito #kimetsu muichiro #muichiro tokito x reader #demon slayer tokito #tokito x reader #Spotify

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atlasscrumpit · 5 months

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🔞Priest Miguel au🔞

(Priest au means Miguel is a Priest duh. Also means that if you don't want to read about things that may offend your religion that do not read on! If you read on and still get offended that is your problem and you're dumb as hell. It's like someone warning you not to walk into wet concrete yet you walk in it and blame the guy who laid the concrete)

🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

Miguel watched everyone leave, exhausted from his day as he took a sip of water to clear his throat.

When he turned back around he saw someone still sitting.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" He asked as he began to walk towards them.

From the moment he saw your eyes he knew exactly what you were.

He took a step back and gripped the cross around his neck.

"Leave now." He growled as you looked at him and tilted your head.

"I'm not causing any harm." You said innocently as he looked at you with such hatred and disgust.

You hated the fact that he despised you only based on the fact that you were a demon.

"You look at me with such disgust, yet you have no idea who I am." You said, staring into his eyes.

"You are a demon, a disgusting creature sent here to tempt me." He said as you looked away and chuckled a little.

"It's sweet that you think you're important enough for me to tempt. I'm not here to cause any harm, just here to see what all the fuss about religion is." You muttered as he continued to keep his distance.

"You don't fool me, demon. I have spent my life learning about heaven and hell." He said making you chuckle again.

"Yet you know nothing about heaven or hell. But, I should be honest with you. I don't work for hell, not anymore at least. I'm here on earth to see why humans like it so much... I find it interesting that everything that you consider a sin is everything that makes a human...human. You preach a God that wants to make his people suffer, a God that would torture you if you didn't follow. Do you know who else does that? My master in hell, your God isn't that different from him." You say slowly circling the priest like a shark.

"Do not compare God to a demon! He protects, he loves and he keeps us safe." He said as you smiled and continued to look at him.

"Don't think of yourself as so high and mighty. You are filled with sins, all of them and I know how badly you want to let go." You whispered slowly approaching him.

"Don't you want to see what it means to be human? And not just a worthless follower? Don't you want to feel?" You whispered as Miguel began to feel an odd sensation in his body.

"Stop this now demon, before I destroy you!" He shouted before he backed away and braced himself against the podium.

"All I'm doing is letting your desires free. Heaven and hell is a plague! The sooner you see that the better." You said before the sensation stopped in Miguel.

"Why are you doing this? Why me!" He shouted as you stepped back a little and took a breath.

"I don't know..." You whispered as he looked at you in shock.

"You don't know why you're here?" He asked as you chuckled a little and looked away from him.

"I've been running from my destiny for centuries... I felt like my time was running out when I started being plagued with visions...of you. I tracked you down and I found you here...and now I don't even know." You muttered as the priest looked at you in confusion.

He couldn't believe how human you were, he didn't expect a demon to act like this.

"You ran from you duties?" He asked, you noticed he was starting to relax a little more.

"My purpose was to destroy this world... To end all life. But, that's not who I want to be." You admitted while the priest listened in disbelief.

"But it's your duty, you cannot turn your back on your purpose." He said as you slowly approached him.

"I know why you're angry... Because you've had thoughts of leaving your duties behind to live a life of sin. Isn't that right, father?" You whispered before you stood in front of him and looked into his eyes.

"That's the difference between you have I, I am not weak like you to give in to my sins!" He shouted as you sighed a little.

"Is this really a sin? When it feels so good, father?" You whispered before pressing your palm to his crotch that was half hard.

"Enough." He whispered breathlessly and you continued to palm him through his clothes.

"I need you and you need me. We were meant to help each other break free from those who are controlling us. Let go, father." You whispered before he gripped your wrist roughly to stop you.

"On your knees." He growled as you smirked a little and kneeled before him.

You looked up and could see the sins brewing in his soul.

"You've lived your life as someone's slave for too long." You whispered as he reached forward and held your face in his hand.

"Tell me your name, little demon." He said, looking down at you.

"My name in Hell isn't one that can be pronounced by humans... So, call me Y/N." You replied as he nodded a little.

"You'll address me as Father, little one. I am your superior here, I am above you in every sense of the word... But, you could prove very useful to me." He whispered as you looked into his sinful eyes.

"I can see how much you want to be worshipped, father. Let go of everything you've learnt and let me worship you." You whispered before he slowly went to his knees and looked into your eyes.

You leant forward and kissed him softly as he gripped your hair.

You finally broke the kiss and he looked at your face.

"Was this your plan all along, little demon? To tempt me?" He asked caressing your face gently as you watched his eyes.

"It wasn't my intention, father. But... I can tell how much you want freedom from this, freedom to love, live and...fuck." You whispered as his thumb gently ran over your bottom lip.

"You want me to free you...and you want to free me. I can't give up my life as easy as you." He replied as you leant in and kissed him again.

"It is easy, father. Just let go, let me show you what you're missing." You whispered, leaning in yo kiss his neck before you started to palm at his crotch again.

"Naughty demon..." He whispered, moaning a little before he kissed you again.

"Show me what I'm missing, little demon."

#Miguel #Miguel o'hara #Miguel x reader #Miguel o'hara x reader #Priest au #Demon reader

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flowerandblood · 11 days

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The Fall from the Heavens (25)

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: angst, tension, anxiety, a lot of half-truths ]

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard

Author note: For the purposes of this story, Lord Rodrik Arryn had a son and an heir, who in turn has a son of his own, to whom our Lady Strong was betrothed. I invented the lullaby in this chapter, so if you think it's weird, thank me, lol.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

After what he heard, he just vomited, unable to stop the convulsions that were squeezing his stomach, the rapid pounding of his heart or his terrified, ragged breathing. He could feel tears of despair and fear running down his cheeks as he coughed once more, panting heavily over the vessel − he felt like his whole body was twitching.

You will betray her at the moment she trusts you the most.

You will achieve victory, but she will never let you touch herself again.

You will put your child inside me, your bastard son, who will rule Harrenhal after our death.

He felt his stomach twist again in pain at the mere memory – he leaned over the bowl, feeling the gag reflex shake his body once more, but nothing left his throat.

He cried out loudly as if he were a small child, covering his face with his hand, leaning over the table, thinking about how much he needed his wife right now.

How much he wanted to snuggle between her soft, sweet breasts, to feel her smooth, warm hands stroking his hair, her heart beating beneath his cheek.

He drew in a loud breath, reminding himself that he had left her alone and that any moment spent in this disgusting place could have been her last; he reached for the cup of wine, rinsed his mouth a few times and spat the contents into the bowl, washing his face with fresh water, trying to calm himself.

This was part of their game, he thought, feeling his terror slowly begin to be replaced by fury.

He was sure Larys Strong had made her say it because he wanted him to believe that what was to come was destiny, not his and his grandfather's plan.

They wanted to manipulate him, to force him to leave her, to strip her of his protection, to destroy her.

No, he thought.

He was no longer a small child.

He left the fortress feeling that he had again unwittingly become the cold, empty stone he had been for eight years when she had not been with him, recognising that he had to keep a cool head.

He could not allow himself to be weak now.

He knew that if he just looked at her, if he just saw her face again and remembered what that woman had said to him he would simply burst into sobs, so to her disappointment he pretended not to see her.

The journey to the Eyrie, although spent in full sun and short, was unbearable for him and dragged on endlessly; he felt that waves of thoughts, suppositions and versions of events flowed through his mind one after another, causing complete chaos in his head.

What if Rhaenyra did not agree despite his lie?

What if she agrees, but demands the head of his grandfather and mother?

Whoever he was, his grandfather was his kin, his blood; all his life he had fought for them and their rights even if he himself often despised him.

How should he behave in such a situation so as not to let her down?

To fight? Declare war on them? Let her decide for herself once again which side she would stand on this time?

He pressed his forehead to the front of his saddle, clenching his hands on the ropes he held in his fist, feeling that he was descending into madness.

As they landed in the valley below the fortress he slid off his saddle, thinking that he had to share his plan with her, lest she accidentally say something herself that might destroy their credibility.

"− uncle −" She began, walking towards him, her face all pink and sweaty from exertion, unruly strands of her hair clinging to her skin.

His heart pounded harder.

You will come back here to face your nephew and you will take me, because you will decide that I am similar to her enough to satisfy your pain and longing.

You will put your child inside me, your bastard son, who will rule Harrenhal after our death.

He swallowed loudly, feeling that his vision was blank, his hands clenched into fists.

"− we'll tell them you're expecting my child −" He said coolly, sidestepping her, heading ahead, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible − he heard her draw in a loud breath as she moved immediately after him, terrified, trying to keep up with him.

"− what? − Aemond, we can't lie, not now −" She muttered, clearly terrified by this vision − he pressed his lips together into a thin line, furious that she was making this all even more difficult.

"− they must agree to our terms − I will not discuss my decisions with you −" He growled impatiently and stopped when her silhouette appeared in front of him – her palms slapped against his chest, a fury in her eyes that startled him.

"− you will − you don't know them as well as you do − Daemon can sense the lie, he will see it in your eyes − do you think that once they understand that you are manipulating them they will agree to whatever conditions you set for them? −" She asked with an irritation in her voice that he didn't like; he felt a cold sweat on his neck at the unbearable thought that she was partly right.

Fuck.

He stared at her for a moment, breathing heavily, feeling like he was about to faint, another disturbing thought flashed through his mind.

What had that whore said to her?

"− that fucking witch − what did she say to you? −" He asked uneasily, wanting to be sure she wasn't trying to manipulate his wife the way she was trying to manipulate him.

His Rheanys blinked rapidly and swallowed hard, as if his question made her uncomfortable − he felt an unpleasant twinge in his stomach at the sight.

"− that we should not return to Harrenhal − that I should watch out for myself and trust no one −" She muttered, and he felt his heart stop.

That we should not return to Harrenhal.

That I should watch out for myself and trust no one.

She warned her.

Why?

He felt that he understood absolutely none of this; the woman's behaviour seemed to make no sense to him, but that wasn't the worst of it.

The worst part was the thought that perhaps she really believed what she said.

That perhaps she really did see his betrayal and what he would do next in her dream or in the fire.

He stood watching her like a small, frightened child who was afraid to tell a parent that he had stolen and destroyed their favourite book unwillingly, who was afraid to admit his guilt for fear of punishment and what it entailed.

She must have seen what was happening to him in his gaze because she walked over to him and touched his upper arms, her scent, the smell of vanilla reached his nose.

"− husband, what happened? − if you have doubts, let's discuss everything − but please don't close yourself in the fortress of your mind −" She muttered pleadingly, her voice warm and calm, soothing, as if she understood that he was afraid.

That thought, the realisation that she knew him well enough that he couldn't hide from her what was happening inside him made him feel even worse.

He thought she would loathe him forever.

He swallowed hard as she cupped his cheeks between her hands and closed his eyes, feeling himself tremble all over, focusing only on her closeness.

"− uncle − look at me − I am your ally − I always have been −" She whispered tenderly making another wave of heat and fear surge through his body at the same time, causing something inside him to crack.

"You're your parents' child too. Just like me. What will you do when one of them demands the other's head?" He asked coldly, feeling his heart pounding like mad − he felt like he could hear in his ears the fast pumping of blood through his veins.

His wife furrowed her brows, shaking her head as if she did not understand what he had just said to her.

"− I will never agree to this − despite what your grandfather and your mother did to me, I will not agree for them to be harmed if you assure me to do the same − you know that I am not driven by revenge − and you? − you are the one who constantly doubts me, however, ever since I appeared in King's Landing you have been the one to let me down − yet I remain faithful to you − I chose you, uncle, when will you understand it? − when will you understand that there is no other way for me but by your side even if I come to burn? −"

She said in a trembling, angry, breaking voice from which a shiver ran down his back; he looked at her in disbelief feeling his body filled with guilt and shame.

You are the one who constantly doubts me, however, ever since I appeared in King's Landing you have been the one to let me down.

She was right.

She welcomed him with open arms despite the fact that he hadn't answered her letters for eight years; she didn't show him any kind of resentment, she didn't demand an apology from him, she lavished him with understanding and tenderness when he needed it, wanting to make things right.

It was he who betrayed her when Aegon became King.

It was his mother who forced her to drink the moon tea.

He was the one who made her try to take her own life.

He was the one who kept her locked up like a prisoner.

And yet, it was he who perpetually accused her in his head of the possibility of betrayal, as if he was just waiting for it.

For an excuse to decide that this was never going to succeed.

Despite this, she was now standing in front of him, being on his side, willing to fight alongside him for a future for them.

He felt a squeeze in his throat at this realisation, at the thought that there was never any other way for him than the one that would always lead him to her, to his beloved, to his friend.

To his Rheanys.

He lifted his hand, in some subconscious gesture of tenderness and closeness placing an unruly strand of her dark hair behind her ear, looking at her pretty face, at her bright, shining eyes, at her long lashes, at her swollen, moist lips − everything that belonged to him, that he could take every night.

He felt his manhood twitch in his breeches at the thought.

"Can I kiss you?" He heard her whisper and looked at her, seeing that she was staring at him exactly as she had then, that day when she had come to his chamber as a child, holding a small book clutched to her chest in her hands.

He leaned towards her without a word and closed his eyes, sighing in relief when her plump, soft lips pressed against his in a sweet, sticky kiss; she pulled away from him, stroking his cheeks and hair with her hands, but it wasn't enough for him.

"One more time."

He moaned into her mouth and locked her in the tight, strong embrace of his arms as her lips pressed against his again, this time as if she wanted to devour him, her wet, swollen lips sucking and licking him making him completely hard; he felt the lust, the hot feeling he shared with her shake his body as his eyes involuntarily filled with tears at the thought of what he had heard.

You will take me, because you will decide that I am similar to her enough to satisfy your pain and longing.

You will put your child inside me.

But he wanted her.

He wanted his childhood friend.

His lover, his companion, his joy.

She filled his heart with herself so much that there was no room in it for any Visenya.

"I love you." He muttered helplessly, feeling the words leave his throat without the participation of his free will. "I've always loved you."

He felt her gasp loudly at his words as her body trembled in his arms; his heart squeezed tight with pain as she wept quietly.

"− I feel that some weight has crushed you, my beloved − it covers you like a heavy black cloak − but I am by your side − I am with you − trust me − I know how to speak with them, I know them −" She mumbled out looking at him with a hot gaze full of affection from which he felt that nothing mattered anymore, that he couldn't fight himself or what only she could do.

He was completely helpless against her.

"− will you be by my side even when all is lost? − even if there is nothing left but darkness? −" He asked in a breaking voice, and she smiled, so sweetly, tenderly, joyfully that his hands clenched tighter on her body.

"− yes − don't go the path I could not follow − let me stay by your side − if I am to leave this world, I want to die in your arms −" She whispered softly, and he felt that it was over for him, that whatever he had been thinking about a moment ago, it didn't matter.

"− so be it − fall with me −" He breathed out, before his lips pressed greedily into hers, his fingers digging into the material of her leather coat enclosing her in his tight embrace, their tongues colliding with each other, licking with their soft sighs of pleasure.

He thought, panting hard into her throat, caressing her with a loud click of their saliva, that he could take her now, on the grass, in front of everyone, and fuck her so hard that the whole Eyrie would hear.

This, however, did not happen.

The sight of her would-be betrothed was the last thing he wanted to see − Ronnel Arryn seemed to him to be a boastful and self-obsessed man, focused only on the tonnage of his muscles and how he presented himself.

His grin full of mockery which he threw back at him, looking at the left side of his face made him involuntarily think how pleasant it would be to just slit his throat.

He remembered why they were actually there when they walked into the circular chamber where his uncle and half-sister were waiting for them − he pressed his lips into a thin line seeing that his sister-whore dared to wear his father's crown on her head.

He said nothing.

As his wife threw herself into her mother's arms, he glanced at Daemon; his uncle stood back leaning lazily against the wall, his chin lifted slightly in some sort of challenge, a lazy, mocking smirk on his face.

"Let's sit down." He heard his sister's voice at last, but he had no intention of obeying her orders; so he stood, looking at his uncle, who also had not moved from his place, stroking the handle of his Dark Sister thoughtfully.

"My husband has conveyed to me that my brother-usurper wants to pact over the succession of the throne he himself has unlawfully taken. I must admit that this is a quite ridiculous situation." Rheanrya began, and he rolled his eyes, feeling frustrated and impatient. His wife threw him a quick, frightened glance − he, however, just looked at her, letting her speak.

He decided that he would trust her.

His niece grunted loudly and looked at her mother, adjusting herself in her seat, tense.

"My uncle, Prince Aegon, had no choice. His mother is deeply convinced that her husband, my grandfather, and our King, revealed his final will to her before he died. She mentioned to my uncle about the Prince who was promised, about Aegon's dream. I think she misunderstood him, mother, I…" She paused as Rheanyra looked quickly in Daemon's direction − he and his wife exchanged quick, shocked glances between themselves.

He furrowed his brow, feeling discomfort in his pit, wondering what they knew that might have escaped his attention.

Her mother looked at her again, some strange glint in her gaze.

"Mother?"

"Aegon the Conqueror's Dream. A Song of Ice and Fire. This is the prophecy my father spoke to me about. Whatever Alicent heard, it did not apply to her firstborn son." She said in a trembling voice, as if it was obvious to her.

He felt rage at the thought that their father had shared with his daughter some prophecy, a future that was to befall their lineage, but did not consider them, his sons, worthy of the privilege.

Humiliation, shame and anger surged through his body making his words involuntarily leave his lips.

"You mean to say that our father only conveyed the contents of this prophecy to you, but you don't believe my mother that he could have passed on to her that he changed his mind regarding the succession?" He growled, his sister and uncle throwing him quick, warning glances.

"Calm down, nephew. You are speaking to the Queen." Daemon reminded him, and he looked at him with rage.

"She is not my Queen." He hissed, his hand sliding down to the hilt of his sword when he saw Daemon's fingers tighten around his Dark Sister.

"That's enough. We have met here because Aegon realises, as you do Mother, that his and your children's rights to the throne will be challenged, and the war will not end with your death." His wife interjected, startling him as did the rest of those gathered, his heart began to pound like mad.

What?

"Are you undermining Jace, my firstborn son's right to the throne?" Her mother asked in a trembling tone, clearly not believing what she was suggesting.

Her daughter drew in a loud breath and swallowed hard before answering her.

"He's a bastard, mother. Like me, Luke and Joffrey, he cannot inherit the throne. Will you cut off my tongue for those words? Will you deprive me of my head, father?"

He looked at her with his lips slightly parted, feeling that his mind was not yet able to comprehend fully what she had actually done.

She continued, however, as if the words were pouring out of her like a river.

"We just lie and lie and lie until in the end we ourselves don't know where the truth lies, but it is there somewhere, always, and sooner or later none of us will be able to deny it even if we beheaded all the men in the Seven Kingdoms."

He felt a surge of satisfaction and warm affection shake his body at her words, at her proof that she understood him, understood his pain, understood why her brothers could not be heirs to the throne.

How could he ever doubt her?

Her mother and stepfather seemed as shocked as he was, unable to get a word out.

"How dare you say such a thing? Your father, Laenor Velaryon, has recognised you and your brothers as his heirs. He gave you his name, he recognised you as his child in the eyes of the kingdom." Her mother muttered, clearly heartbroken that her own daughter was challenging her words.

"But the whole Kingdom knows, mother. Even if Jace were to sit on the throne after your death, his lineage will not be forgotten. Are you prepared to die knowing that neither he nor his children will ever be safe? That, like my uncle's coronation, his coronation would also be challenged by lords across the Kingdom?" She asked in pain, as if she herself could no longer bear what was happening, how far they had gone in pretending what was the truth and what was a lie.

He thought that he himself would not have put into words better what he thought and acknowledged with pride that his wife was a great speaker.

That even he would have hesitated and reconsidered what she had said if he had heard the arguments spoken in this way.

"I know what humiliation you experienced, mother, and how much suffering you endured. Believe me that I did too. I, too, do not believe my grandfather would change his mind on his deathbed. I did not and do not recognise Aegon as King, nor have I ever called him that or given him the honour he deserves.

However, if we do not find an agreement, war will break out not only in the Realm, but in our family. This is what King Viserys wanted to prevent at the last supper before his death. Mother, after all, you are siblings. Your brother, though a traitor, extends his hand, he is ready to relinquish the crown he stole from you."

An awkward silence fell; Rhaenyra looked over her shoulder at her husband, apparently seeking his advice. His uncle stared at her with clenched lips, clearly believing that she should fight for her rights no matter what − even at the cost of war.

His half-sister looked at her daughter again and swallowed hard.

"I can consider the terms my husband has conveyed to me, but I also have my conditions. I will agree that it is your children who will inherit the Iron Throne, and you will be named as ruler-regents only if there are two kings, and you will be one of them.

You and your husband will share the power of the Kingdom equally and neither of you will sit on the throne or wear the crown. Aegon the Conqueror's crown and my father's crown will be kept in the treasury.

In addition, my husband and I will sit on the Small Council, and deprived of their seats will be your grandfather and Alicent. In addition, Otto Hightower will be stripped of all other functions and privileges and will reside under our oversight in King's Landing.

Jace will inherit Dragonstone as my first-born son. If no male heir is born to you, the official heirs will be the children from my and my uncle's marriage, pureblood Targaryens."

He stared at her wide-eyed, feeling the cold sweat on his back, his heart pounding like mad as his mind tried to quickly analyse what he had heard.

I will agree that it is your children who will inherit the Iron Throne, and you will only become ruler-regent if there are two kings, and you will be one of them.

You and your husband will share power in the kingdom equally and neither of you will sit on the throne or wear the crown. Aegon the Conqueror's crown and my father's crown will be kept in the treasury.

She wanted the kingdom to be ruled by two kings.

She wanted him and her daughter to have the same title, the same privileges.

He saw his niece look at him, her eyes big with terror, filled with fear of how he would react.

No, he thought.

She was no longer her daughter.

She was no longer a bastard.

She was his wife.

When he had covered her shoulders with the cloak with his family crest she had officially taken his name, and who her father was no longer mattered.

Although he knew that the name her mother had given her was different, to him she was Rhaenys.

Rhaenys Targaryen.

His childhood friend, a woman he trusted, respected, loved, whose opinion and letters he had held deep in his heart for years, whom he would have consulted if he had become king-regent anyway.

The thought that she would stand by his side, that she would help him carry this burden, that she would be like a second, necessary pillar to support the whole crumbling structure that was their family, filled him, to his surprise, not with frustration but relief.

He nodded his head.

His wife sighed quietly, looking at him with hope, turning her gaze to her mother. Rhaenyra's eyes welled with tears of grief and sorrow as she nodded, sealing her decision.

She had agreed.

Gods, she agreed.

"Pass on my words to my brother. Let him know that this is not just about my pride, but about the welfare of the Kingdom and our family. That I respect my father's will and hope that he will do the same." She said dispassionately and he nodded, feeling his whole body quiver with emotion, his hands clasped behind his back clenched into fists.

"You are surely exhausted. My cousin has prepared chambers for you where you can rest to set off on your return journey as we will tomorrow morning. Let us have supper together. I have been separated from my one daughter for too long." She said matter-of-factly and he swallowed hard feeling that he had completely frozen.

No.

None of them could stay here.

He couldn't propose that they fly to King's Landing knowing that they would surely disagree, so in desperation he proposed something that shocked everyone, including himself.

"No." He said coolly. "We'll spend the night in Dragonstone."

His niece beamed all over, her cheek blushing with happiness, as if she didn't believe his words.

"Do you mean it?" She asked sweetly like a little child to whom he had just given a wonderful surprise.

He felt a squeeze in his throat at the thought.

"Yes." He replied calmly, glancing at his uncle, who was squinting, watching him intently. "As an expression of my goodwill."

Daemon tapped the tip of his tongue against the wall of his cheek and hummed under his breath, a tense silence fell between them.

His wife was right.

He had the feeling that his gaze was piercing him to the core.

He muttered under his breath and looked at his wife − Rhaenyra, like his niece, seemed shocked by his proposal, but also pleased at the prospect of her daughter returning to her family home, if only for a while.

"Well…I see no objection. Daemon?" She asked her husband, who looked at his daughter. Apparently, something in her pleading gaze made him decide to remain silent for the time being, as he merely nodded his head in wordless agreement.

He closed his eyes and sighed quietly in relief, feeling a huge stone fall from his heart.

He stepped back, allowing Rhaenyra to leave, just behind her the room left Daemon throwing him one vigilant, mocking look telling him that he knew there was something more behind his words.

His wife, however, overwhelmed by excitement and joy, seemed not to notice it − she ran to him and snuggled into him, clasping her hands on his back, his arms immediately enclosing her in a tight, secure embrace.

He hadn't betrayed her.

He would never betray her.

So why did he feel so guilty?

"There are no words in which I can describe my gratitude to you. "She whispered, burying her face in his chest; he sighed heavily, pressing his lips to the top of her head, stroking her soft hair and neck with his fingers.

"I'm proud of you." He said calmly wanting her to know that he admired what she had done, the calmness in which she had presented his side's reasons while showing understanding and respect for her mother's rights and heritage.

He thanked the gods that he knew when to shut his mouth.

She looked at him and smiled shyly, as if his words surprised and embarrassed her. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, pressing her soft lips to his, and he murmured low, feeling a tightness in his throat.

He should tell her, he thought with pain, but he didn't know how.

He didn't want to spoil this beautiful moment.

So he kept silent, but the guilt, the fact that he was hiding something from her, pressed down on his shoulders like a huge burden, through which he could experience neither relief nor satisfaction that Rhaenyra had agreed to their terms.

He never expected to fly through the skies beside Larax, Caraxes and Syrax, to ever see Dragonstone, to propose a journey there of his own accord.

He felt shame filling him.

As he and his wife stepped inside their fortress, where their children were already waiting for them, an awkward silence ensued. Jace and Luke stood behind a large stone table that resembled the shape of all of Westeros, looking at him in disbelief and horror. He shuddered when he saw that Rhaena was the first to rush ahead, sidestepping him and her father, enclosing his wife in a sincere, tender embrace.

"I'm so happy you're alive." She muttered in a breaking voice – his niece stroked her back with a smile.

"Me too." He heard her whisper.

After a moment, Baela joined them, throwing him a cold, warning glance along the way, from which he only rolled his eyes. He looked again at Luke, who swallowed hard and lowered his gaze, clearly unable to bear his presence.

He felt disgusted at the sight of them, two boys with cheeks flushed from shame, who knew full well that they did not and should not have any claim to the throne.

He grinned involuntarily at the thought, seeing how pale Jace was, that he understood for certain that their presence meant he would officially cease to be his mother's heir.

Satisfaction as sweet as poison coursed through his veins at the thought.

Jace drew in a breath at the sight of his grimace, his hands clenched into fists as if he felt like lashing out at him − he flinched when Daemon stepped in front of him, standing between them and shook his head.

Jace swallowed hard, furious, lowering his gaze to the stone floor beneath his feet.

None of them came up to greet his niece; only little Joffrey ran up to her and burst into tears screaming that she had left them alone.

They resented her for the side she had chosen in their minds.

She was the only reason they were both still alive, he thought with a sneer.

His half-sister, seeing the look on his face and sensing the tension that reigned around them, decided to take pity on them and suggested that they make themselves comfortable in the chamber that had previously belonged to his wife.

He accepted her words with relief.

As they stepped inside he felt a squeeze in his throat − her quarters were modest, filled with her scent, the windows of her room facing the open sea, the sound of which he could clearly hear. He walked deeper in, looking around her chests of drawers and wardrobes, her wooden bookcases filled to the brim with books, before his gaze finally settled on an ornate oak desk.

He swallowed hard imagining her seated figure bent over parchment.

"− is this here? −" He asked casually, running his fingers over the table top, noticing with a pained heart that it was dusty.

A sign of how long she had not been here.

His niece looked at him surprised and blushed, as if the mere mention embarrassed her.

"− yes −"

He sat down in the chair she sat in every time she wished to convey her thoughts to him, to put them on paper, which then flew all the way to King's Landing to reach his hands. He glanced towards the windows, wondering how many times she had deliberated on choosing the right words while observing exactly the same view.

He thought he was touched.

"− we should rest, husband − if that's what you wish, we'll have supper alone −" She said softly, her voice trembling with excitement and joy.

She couldn't believe she was home again.

He nodded, not knowing what more he could answer.

He had felt the tension all evening; his wife had shown him various books she had read over the years, which she had told him about in her letters. He tried to listen to her and nod, stroking her arm with the tips of his fingers as she sat beside him, flicking through page after page of one of the volumes, looking for the quote she had mentioned to him. Her question pulled him out of his musings.

"− uncle − will you tell me what troubles you? −"

He looked at her horrified and swallowed with difficulty − he only grunted, not knowing what he should answer like a child caught in the act.

"I'm tired." He replied acknowledging that this was partly true. She nodded in understanding, he closed his eyelids as her hand gently stroked his cheek.

"Let's go to bed."

He wasn't going to fight her.

He wanted to leave this place as soon as possible and get away from Daemon's disturbing gaze.

His wife pressed her lips together, seeing that he had put a dagger under his pillow before he lay down − however, she said nothing, knowing he might trust her, but certainly not her family.

He lay down beside her, sighing heavily, and closed his eyes, figuring that perhaps when he woke up the next day and realised that tragedy had been avoided due to his decision, his conscience would have a little more mercy for him.

He murmured contentedly as he felt her arms embrace him, cuddling his face between her breasts, the warmth of her body, her scent filling his entire lungs. He tightened his hands on her back, trying to focus only on the touch of her hands, on her fingers combing gently through his hair, on the lullaby she hummed softly under her breath, and from which his eyelids grew heavier and heavier.

When the moon rises

over the dark sky

When you hear from afar

my bitter cry

Know that I long

When the sun rises

over the bright sky

When you hear from afar

my joyful cry

Know that I'm home

And then sleep fell over him.

His lips clung to her soft, long neck, sweaty from exertion, heavy, drawn-out sighs full of pleasure left his lips as his hips with sure, deep, quick thrusts pounded again and again into her hot, fleshy interior.

"− forgive me − I've missed you − oh, my sweetest −" He breathed out, quickening his pace, sinking his nose into her dark curls, her moans muffled by the pillow she was cuddling her face into. Her body, though different, was just as warm, her scent, though different, was similar to hers.

It didn't matter to him, because she was there for him, because she had forgiven him.

"− I love you − oh fuck, Rhaenys −" He muttered, clenching his eyes, coming inside her at last, experiencing such immense relief that he cursed for another moment, rocking his hips inside her. He swallowed hard, worried that she wasn't saying anything, his fingers took strands of her hair from her face wanting to see her eyes and then he saw it.

Green irises, luscious as grass.

"− is it true? − is she carrying your child? −" He heard her voice as if from afar and suddenly he was standing in front of her in his chamber in King's Landing, feeling his heart pounding like mad, a cold sweat running down his back.

He felt a strong gag reflex and held it back with the remnants of his strong will.

He couldn't get anything out of himself.

What had he done?

"− answer me − is she carrying your child? −" His wife, his Rhaenys muttered in a voice breaking with pain and despair, her cheeks red from tears, her eyebrows arched in rage, in her gaze something he feared most.

Disgust.

"− I − I don't know −" He mumbled, trying to remember what had actually happened, how he could have done it when, after all, he had promised himself it would never, never happen.

He thought about how he hadn't touched her in so long, how he had missed her so much.

When she discovered that he had hidden the truth from her, what his grandfather had planned, that he knew what could have happened to them in the Eyrie but hadn't told her, she hadn't slept in his chamber, hadn't eaten supper with him, hadn't spoken to him or looked at him even though he had tried so hard to please her.

"− don't you know? − don't you know if you put your bastard inside her? −" She mumbled and burst out into a loud, miserable sob, hiding her face in her hands − he looked at her, panting hard, shaking all over, not knowing what he was supposed to say, what he was supposed to do.

"− HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!? −" She almost screamed, falling to her knees as if without strength, whining loudly like some kind of animal, her whole being trembling and twitching in convulsions − he approached her quickly, kneeling beside her, trying to touch her, but she pushed him away.

"− my beloved − please − I was possessed by madness, I swear − I − I thought it was you −" He muttered, not knowing how he could explain such a betrayal, such humiliation she suffered because of him.

"− you thought it was me? − you fucked another woman and thought it was me? − gods, Aemond, don't touch me! − don't touch me −" She howled, her voice at once enraged, full of pain, suffering and grief, her eyes red with tears, her whole body quivering.

He was the reason for this.

He had done this to her.

"− my Prince − my Prince, quickly, your wife! −" He heard someone shout – he shuddered as he sat by the fireplace, gazing in horror at the figure of the guard who had rushed into his chamber.

As he stepped out into the corridor he heard someone's loud sobs and screams tearing at his heart; as he ran inside he froze noticing the figure of Rheaenyra kneeling on the floor, covering her mouth with her hand − his wife, and her daughter, was hanging from a rope tied to the frame of her bed, which was tightened around her neck, her dark hair covering her bowed head, her feet not touching the floor.

He ran to her trying to lift her, trying to pull her down, but he knew, felt, that it was too late, her body cold, numb, empty.

His face sank into her flesh covered only by the material of her nightgown muffling his loud, desperate scream.

"Uncle! Uncle, please, wake up!"

He opened his eyes and pulled himself up to sit down, panting heavily, feeling his heart pounding like mad – he could see nothing through the tears that one by one ran down his face, his body twitching all over in convulsions as if it had gone into a state of absolute panic.

"− easy, my love − breathe −" He heard someone's voice beside him, her voice – he looked at her as if he didn't recognise her, her eyes wide in terror, her hand stroking his shoulder reassuringly.

"− Rhaenys − Rhaenys −" He mumbled out like a small child calling out to its mother, bursting into sobs of relief and terror that shook his body − he snuggled into her breast, clasping his fingers on her back so tightly that she hissed in pain – however, she did not push him away and her arms enclosed him in a tight, secure embrace.

"− I'm here, my love − I'm here −" She whispered, again and again placing warm, moist kisses on the top of his head, combing her fingers through his hair.

For a moment he merely wept and quivered, unable to catch his breath, trying to calm himself, listening to her whisper, breathing in her scent, enjoying her closeness, the touch of her hand.

It seemed to him that it was hours before he began to breathe normally, before he realised that all he had seen was just a nightmare, that he was lying with his wife in her bed in Dragonstone.

That all was not yet lost.

He swallowed hard and clenched his eyes shut.

"− there's something − there's something I want to tell you −"

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aziraphales-library · 18 days

Note

hello library team!! i have a somewhat strange search going on that i'm having trouble parsing through:

i'm looking for specifically sfw omegaverse fics, any characters, any ships, it doesn't matter. yes, strange, but i love potential for worldbuilding. unfortunately, i can only ever find nsfw. i know mod d answered a similar ask a few years back, but i wanted to see if there was any hidden gems you could find.

i would greatly appreciate some help in this, much love being sent <3

Hi! Yes, we have some specifically sex/heat/mating-free a/b/o fics here. The fics I have here do include them as themes, but are non-explicit with no sex scenes. Enjoy!...

Till The Stars Go Out by WildestHeart (T)

Takes place roughly a year before Preparations. An attempt is made to woo Aziraphale into being Crowley's mate. Aziraphale has a different idea of courtship.

That Lavender Haze by KiaraMGrey (T)

Crowley has no interest in attending the party of some rich Lord. But with his title and inheritance on the line, he needs to find an alpha husband, and fast. But Crowley isn't like the other omegas. He's snappy and impatient and unwilling to be treated like some pet to an alpha. When the party goes south, he's sure that he'll never find someone compatible with him. But maybe he just needs to meet an angel.

Finding Home by Vagabond (M)

Aziraphale protects, as it is his nature. Whether it is giving away his flaming sword to defenseless humans, or coming to Crowley in his time of need, he sees it as his duty. If there's a little bit of love simmering beneath it all, especially when a certain demon's wings are laid out before him shivering with need, well. He'll do his duty first, and figure out the rest later. Or: an alpha angel and an omega demon eventually overcome the end of the world, their insecurities, and manage to find a home together.

Twice Bitten, Once Shy by JoseyxNeko (M)

Crowley is the new Alpha in Tadfield and on the opening day of his new shop a very angelic Omega walks in. They hit it off right away, and- what a coincidence! They both have seventeen year old sons. Their mateship is guaranteed, so long as their sons can get along. What could possibly go wrong? Warlock is the new kid in Tadfield, and on the first day of school a boy with a mop of dirty blond hair makes fun of his name. They butt heads right away, but what a coincidence! Their dads both want them to meet their new love interests. Their rivalry is guaranteed, so long as they don't get along. What could possibly go right?

Duty and Desire by Purple_Rose_Writes (M)

A Regency-Era GO Omegaverse Human AU Aziraphale Heavens has resisted taking a mate, but when the family hits hard times, he has no choice. His fears about being mated to an alpha he's never met are only heightened when Alpha Anthony Crowley is rather non-traditional. Is he doomed to a life of abuse and mistreatment? Or is there more to Crowley than meets the eye?

Stubborn Love by Get_Wrexed (M)

Lord Aziraphale Fell, the Viscount of Whitefeather Manor and heir for the title of Earl of Sussex is a reserved, persnickety fellow much more fond of literature than the tedious song and dance of noble society. Although he is in need of a mate, he is plagued with the residual fear of a heartbreak several years past. Lord Anthony Crowley, the youngest and only Omega child of the Earl and Countess of Sutherland, is a wild, untamable thing with a propensity for outspokenness and mischief, underscored by an intriguing disregard for etiquette despite the good breeding and education to know far better. Both are faced with the newfound knowledge that a True Mate awaits them out in the world, and are faced with the question: shall they remain in search for their destined partner, the other half of their soul? Or shall they forge ahead and write their own destiny? *** The turn-of-the-century nobility True Mates Omegaverse AU literally nobody asked for ***

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #omegaverse #mod d

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mcverse · 11 months

Text

ꨄ︎ Paring: Rotxo x Adopted! Sully! GN Reader

ꨄ︎ Requested: Yes/No

ꨄ︎ Type: One Shot

ꨄ︎ Word count: 4.8K

ꨄ︎ Warnings: angst, fluff, unrequited love, requited love, mention of you. Not really mentions of reader being female so I changed it to gn. Safe for 17+ to read. Not proof read, possible spelling mistakes.

please keep in mind that all characters in my stories are always 18+

How can one miss someone who was never theirs to begin with?

Perhaps you played yourself, allowing a delusional desire to take root, hoping against all odds that he could be yours. Lost in a dense fog of denial, you knew deep down that this kind of love was never meant for you—that it wasn't directed your way.

Ever since you and your adoptive family arrived in Awa'atlu for uturu, you have all been in the spotlight, but some receive more attention than others. Sadly, the attention you crave the most is effortlessly bestowed upon your sister. His oceanic eyes gaze at her with the intensity you wish he would reserve for you, overflowing with adoration and admiration. It feels almost criminal to witness someone being worshipped so deeply, while she remains completely oblivious to his love.

How can you ever find the words to tell him that every night, as you lay beneath the sky's embrace, peering through the cracks in the mauri, your thoughts are consumed by him? With each star you count, you offer silent prayers, hoping that a shooting star from the tales of old tawtute will streak across the heavens, allowing you to make a wish, fully aware that it will revolve around him.

He was the sun that illuminated your days when they felt impossibly dim just by a smile sent your way, and you were the moon, forever drawn to his orbit, seeking a place in his world. The farther he seemed, the closer you yearned to be, until the yearning became insatiable. You craved his warmth, his light, wanting nothing more than to bask in his radiance. Your existence revolved around him, and with every passing day, the desire to bridge the gap grew stronger. Closer and closer you wanted to get, until the closeness became enough, until only your love for him was enough.

You're unsure how you came to love him so deeply, and it pains you to part ways even briefly. Eywa herself knows the internal struggle you endure when you watch him fade into the distance, vanishing without another word, with your concealed emotions left unspoken.

He was kind, supportive, and courageous—a formidable warrior among the people, a remarkable friend within your youthful circle, and a well-suited potential partner. You wish you could rid yourself of your feelings for him, much like the way he yearns for your sister, but his qualities are impossible to overlook.

Your heart tightens each time you witness him trailing behind her, wearing the most beautiful and genuine smile, calling out her name in gleeful laughter, "Kiri! Where are you headed?" as he dutifully follows her, unaware of the effect it has on you. He would likely follow her to the ends of the earth, and you’ll understand because you’ll do the same.

You often found yourself lost in a tumultuous sea of thoughts, seeking solace by the ocean's edge, far removed from prying eyes. The weight of your emotions became overwhelming, making it agonizingly difficult to confide in someone, fearing their judgment and the damning label of selfishness.

Yet, can it truly be branded as selfish when it's painfully evident that Rotxo yearns to court her, while she remains oblivious or so it seems? What if she truly knows and deliberately keeps him dangling on a string?

Great Mother, your love for your sister burns with an intensity that knows no bounds, but does she truly grasp the power she holds—the power to choose between two hearts held tenderly within her hands? The weight of that choice is immense, leaving you in a state of anguished uncertainty and bittersweet longing.

Then, whether through a twist of destiny or the compassion of Eywa, Rotxo mustered the courage one day to reveal his feelings to Kiri. To your surprise, she was completely unaware of his intentions, blissfully ignorant of his affection towards her. It seemed her attention was focused on another, a fellow female Na'vi within the village. How Rotxo missed that detail remained a mystery, but he wasn't the only one caught off guard. The news reached your ears when Kiri returned home, her expression filled with solemnity.

At first, you struggle to contain your bubbling excitement. It felt like Rotxo was finally free, and a glimmer of hope sparked within you. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something between you two. However, as Kiri proceeded to explain his reaction, a wave of guilt crashed over you. You realized that you had unwittingly taken his pain and transformed it into your own joy, and the weight of that realization bore down heavily upon your conscience.

That night, sleep escapes you, and you found yourself restlessly shifting in bed, tormented by thoughts of Rotxo. His once charming smile was replaced with a frown in your mind's eye. It unsettled you to the core, knowing that he was burdened with sorrow while you held onto a glimmer of hope.

Reality struck hard—you understood deep down that there was no possibility for you and him. He had just experienced rejection, and pursuing another romantic endeavor would be the least of his concerns. The gravity of this truth kept you awake, lost in contemplation throughout the night. Eventually, you abandon the pursuit of sleep and ventured to the shoreline, where you wandered along the edge of the ocean, sinking your feet into the soft sand as you sought solace in the rhythm of the waves.

Eventually you reach your usual spot, a quiet place for reflection, you freeze in your tracks. Your expectation of finding it deserted is shattered by the sound of gentle sniffles. Someone else seeks refuge there, their emotions overwhelming them too. A bittersweet warmth fills your heart, realizing that this place offers comfort and solace to others who grapple with their own feelings. Though your initial instinct is to respect their privacy and leave, your intention wavers when you hear his voice—his familiar voice that stops you in your tracks.

His voice trembles with vulnerability, as he opens up about his pain and heartache. The rawness in his words sends a surge of emotions coursing through you. You stand there, hidden from view, listening intently as he pours out his feelings. Every word he utters resonates with your own hidden desires, with the longing you've kept locked away.

An uneasy feeling begins to wash over you, as if you are trespassing on his intimate moment. You recognize that these words were never meant for your ears, that he did not willingly choose to confide in you. Caught in this dilemma, you find yourself torn between respecting his boundaries and offering a comforting presence. Yet, you cannot bear to leave him in such a vulnerable state. So, with cautious steps, you retreat to the entrance and clear your throat, hoping to make your presence known.

His glossy eyes shift in your direction, and the sight tugs at your heartstrings. It stirs within you an overwhelming urge to rush to his side, to wrap him in a warm embrace and assure him that everything will be alright. But you hold yourself back, restraining the impulse. Instead, you offer him a gentle smile, your voice soft and tentative as you speak up, "I'm sorry... I don't mean to intrude, but... are you okay, Rotxo?"

His gaze lingers on you, caught off guard by your sudden presence. He takes a moment to collect himself, his voice trembling as he responds, "Not really." He lowers his gaze to the ground, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

Frowning, you move closer, squatting down beside him on the ground. From this vantage point, you peer at him under your lowered lashes, your heart betraying you by racing at the proximity. You curse the timing of these feelings, fully aware that now is not the moment to indulge in personal desires. Your sole focus remains on providing comfort and support.

"Why are you crying?" you ask, although the reason is painfully obvious. You choose not to spell it out, allowing him the space to share what he wishes.

He presses his lips together, taking a slow, steadying breath before he responds, his voice barely above a whisper, his voice barely above a whisper, his body slumped with sadness.

"Kiri didn't tell you?" he murmurs, his words heavy with a mixture of pain and confusion.

Naturally, she did. She was your sister, bonded by a deep connection whether by blood or not. It was evident that the weight of her own struggles had become too much to bear alone, leading her to confide in you, and for that, you were grateful. But now is not the time to reveal that knowledge.

“No,” you furrow your brows, gulping as you consider you answer, “She didn’t. Should she have?”

Your question hangs in the air, masking the truth that you hold. You tread carefully, protecting your sister's trust while trying to offer him the support he seeks. You wait, holding your breath, aware that his answer will shape the course of this vulnerable moment between the two of you.

Finally, he breaks the stillness, his words faltering as he reveals, "I... I like Kiri..." His eyes shift away, avoiding direct contact.

You offer a subtle nod, acknowledging his admission. "I know," you respond softly, holding more understanding than he realizes.

His ears flick up before lying flat against his head, sinking his face into his hands as he groans in exasperation, "So it was obvious to everyone except her?" His eyes welling up with tears once more.

Your willpower to respect his boundaries crumbles in an instant, overridden by your overwhelming urge to provide comfort. Acting on instinct, you step into his personal space and wrap your arms around him, seeking to offer solace and support. You understand that apologies can come later; right now, all that matters is being there for him, as he has been for others in their moments of sadness.

He tenses at the unexpected contact, momentarily pausing in his sniffling. But then he returns the embrace, holding onto you tightly and burying his head in your shoulder. The wetness of his tears dampens your skin, a physical manifestation of the depth of his need for comfort, perhaps more than he even realizes.

"I'm sorry she didn't see you the way you saw her..." you murmur softly, your hand rubbing his back in a soothing motion, akin to a mother comforting her child. It feels fitting, given the sense of family that he most-likely come to associate with you.

"I feel so stupid," he whines, his eyes tightly shut as he shuffles closer, seeking more solace in your warmth. It's as if he has been deprived of it for so long, though you know that cannot be true. His parents were present. His self-blame stems solely from the rejection he has faced. "I... I should have noticed the signs... I should have."

Shaking your head softly, you offer reassurance, "She didn't give any signs. You weren't the only one who didn't know,” you pause to ponder you next words, it’ll be a risky statement given the circumstances but maybe you were selfish if you did, “Maybe if you did, you could have found someone who’d reciprocates your feelings.”

"Nobody would want me after this. It's humiliating," he practically whispers so low you’ll miss it if he wasn’t this close to you. His sniffling has long subsided as he rests his head on your shoulder. His arms loosen their grip, hanging loosely around you, "I wouldn't want me."

Your heart aches at the sight of his self-deprecating words, the pain and insecurity etched on his face. Without a second thought, you gently push him back, your hands resting on his chest, a small act of resistance against his negative thoughts. His swollen, confused eyes meet yours as you lean closer.

Placing a hand on his thigh for comfort, you let your voice carry the weight of your words, "Never say that about yourself," you say firmly, your frown reflecting your deep concern, "Rotxo, you are so much more than this moment of rejection. You deserve love just like anyone else. Don't let this define your worth."

Your fingertips caress his cheeks, radiating warmth and tenderness as they glide along his skin. A softness lingers in your touch, an unspoken reassurance that you offer with every stroke. Despite the tremor that quivers through your own hands, a testament to the emotions swirling within you, you remain steadfast in your mission to uplift his spirits and kindle a flicker of hope within his wounded heart.

Truly, it was right there before him, concealed in plain sight, much like it was with Kiri. You can't help but marvel at the irony of it all, how easily the heart can be blind to what lies just beyond its reach. Yet, a tender fondness washes over you, an understanding of his innocence and his unwitting ignorance of the precious connection that beckoned him.

Perhaps, you think, it's for the best that he remained oblivious for now, as the pain is still fresh and tender.

"Do you really think so?" he asks, his eyes filled with wonder and a glimmer of hope, desperately seeking validation in your response. As you nod and offer a soft smile, his face lights up with a genuine smile, the first of the day. Excitedly, he pulls you into a heartfelt hug, his pure nature shining through. This man is truly a gem.

You find yourself grappling with a myriad of emotions as you reflect on the situation. It perplexes you why he seemed oblivious to the impact he had on your heart. Taking a deep breath to steady your racing thoughts, you decide it's time to bring this poignant exchange to a close.

Clearing your throat, you slowly rise from your seated position, your gaze momentarily avoiding his captivating eyes that shimmer in the gentle moonlight. The silence between you stretches, filled with unspoken words and lingering emotions.

"I think it's best if we both make our way back," you say, your voice carrying a tinge of melancholy and unrequited longing.

He reciprocates with a gentle smile, its genuineness captivating you, even in the midst of this tender farewell. A subtle nod of understanding passes between you, both acknowledging the intricate complexities of the moment.

His voice resonates with heartfelt gratitude, softly punctuating the stillness that envelops you both, "Thank you."

With those words lingering in the air like a whispered promise, you reluctantly part ways, each step carrying the weight of unspoken emotions. The night embraces you, wrapping you in its embrace as you find comfort in the knowledge that you were there for one another, if only for a fleeting moment.

Little did you know, it was far from being the last encounter.

The following morning arrives, and you attempt to steal a few extra moments of slumber, seeking refuge from the complexities of the previous night. However, your peaceful interlude is shattered by the persistent calls of your mother, who reminds you of the responsibilities and obligations that come with being a member of the Metkayina. The demands of productivity override any personal desires, and you resign yourself to the tasks that lie ahead.

You decide to embark on a fishing expedition, a familiar ritual that brings level headedness and nourishment. Equipped with your trusty net, you make your way to one of the favored fishing spots, immersing yourself in the tranquil waters. The cool embrace of the water fails to deter you as you wade deeper, determined to fulfill your task and provide a bountiful catch for your family.

After a while of not catching anything in your chosen fishing spot, you decide to relocate. Fortunately, the change of location proves fruitful, and you're grateful for the decision as you witness a group of male Na'vi engaging in animated conversation, their attention fixated on Rotxo and his fishing prowess.

A sense of amusement washes over you as you realize his popularity. Who would have thought?

Without a second thought, you find yourself wading through the water towards him, unintentionally interrupting the tranquility he sought. "Looks like you've got some admirers," you playfully tease, you playfully tease, coming to a halt a few feet away. He turns to you, confusion evident in his eyes.

"What do you mean, (Name)?" he asks, genuinely puzzled. But his confusion quickly fades as you gesture towards the group of Na'vi, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. He takes a step back, shrugging his shoulders, a slight frown forming on his face. "They've been there all morning. Just gossiping, I suppose."

A surge of annoyance wells up within you, no longer able to tolerate his self-doubt. "Enough of that," you assert, your voice carrying a deep resonance. "Anyone would be lucky to have you... including myself." The words slip out in a mumble, almost lost amidst the sounds of nature. Whether he catches your confession or not, he remains silent, stealing a quick glance in your direction before returning his focus to the task at hand.

A comfortable silence envelops you both, accompanied by the gentle lapping of waves and the occasional splash. Surprisingly, the absence of words doesn't create any awkwardness. It's a stark contrast to the usual giddy and somewhat nauseating feeling you experience in his presence. Perhaps the brief but meaningful connection you shared the previous night has brought a newfound ease and comfort when it comes to being around him.

You feel a gentle yet firm grip on your forearm, halting your motion of throwing the net once again. Turning your gaze to the source, you find Rotxo standing beside you, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he observes your fishing technique. His eyes sparkle with amusement as he takes hold of your hands, his touch sending a tingle of warmth through your skin.

Curiosity dances in his eyes as he asks, "Who taught you how to fish?"

You can't help but feel a touch of self-consciousness, looking down for a moment before meeting his gaze. "I actually taught myself," you admit, your voice carrying a hint of bashfulness.

A knowing smile graces his face as he replies, "That explains your stance. You won't catch many fish like that." He moves closer to you, his body language open and inviting. His question hangs in the air, and you find yourself captivated by his presence, eagerly granting him permission to guide you.

"I don't mind," you respond, your voice filled with anticipation and curiosity. With your consent, he takes the lead, positioning your hands and adjusting your body to align with his preferred fishing method. Every touch, every gentle adjustment, sends a jolt of electricity through your being.

"I must say, I've caught plenty of fish on my own," you playfully interject as he pulls away, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

He nods, his gaze transitioning from your hands to your eyes, a silent understanding passing between you. "I have no doubt about that. But the way you were doing it would have taken much longer," he remarks, a hint of admiration evident in his voice.

With his guidance, you make several more attempts, each time incorporating the adjustments he has shown you. It's a delicate dance of coordination, a symphony of movement and shared intention. You feel a sense of connection and trust building with each throw, as if you are moving in perfect harmony with each other and the rhythm of the water.

Time seems to melt away as you continue fishing together. Conversations flow effortlessly, laughter echoes through the air, and a sense of peace envelops you both. The symphony of nature's sounds—the gentle lapping of water against your legs, the rustle of leaves in the breeze, and the occasional splash of a fish—accentuates the tranquility of the moment.

A bittersweet ache tugs at your heart. You wish you that this would be the last time similar actions would be like this, that it’ll be easier to let go than to hold on to a love that can never be fully realized. It's a torment, a constant battle between the longing in your heart and the rationality in your mind. Each passing day spent in his company, teaching and bonding, feels both like a gift and a cruel twist of fate.

You had made peace with your feelings long ago, even before he confessed his love for Kiri. You had resigned yourself to the fact that friendship was the only path you could walk together, no matter how much it pained you. It was a choice to preserve what you had, to savor the moments of joy and connection, even if it meant treading a delicate tightrope of unspoken desires.

"You're spacing out again," Rotxo's voice breaks the spell of your thoughts. You find yourselves back at the familiar spot, the place where platonic confessions were made, now a couple of months later. Time has slipped away swiftly in the company of the one you love.

You let out a soft hum, meeting his gaze with contemplation and unknown affection. "I've been doing a lot of thinking," you confess, your voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty.

Curiosity flickers in Rotxo's eyes as he tilts his head, genuinely interested in the thoughts that have consumed you for so long. He has always respected your privacy, refraining from prying into your inner world. Yet, an undeniable concern gnaws at him, a desire to understand and offer support. You both have become pillars for each other, leaning on each other in times of need.

"Is it something troubling?" he asks, his gaze unwavering as he waits for your response.

“I think that depends on how someone sees it…” you trail off, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. The conversation takes an unexpected turn, and a wave of apprehension washes over you, making you hesitate to continue. You can't quite put your finger on it, but something feels different about this discussion, and it makes you reluctant to delve deeper.

"Will you tell me?" he whispers softly, his voice filled with concern and a touch of vulnerability. The genuine care in his eyes urges you to open up, but you find yourself momentarily speechless, unsure of how to express the conflicted emotions swirling within you. You don't want to burden him or risk jeopardizing the friendship you hold dear.

For a moment, silence hangs in the air, and he senses your hesitation. Worried that he may be crossing a line, he considers dropping the subject altogether. But just as he's about to let it go, your voice finally breaks through.

"I don't think I can continue to be your friend... I feel guilty," you confess, the words escaping your lips, filled with sadness and regret.

He shifts in his seated position, giving you his undivided attention with a serious expression. What could you possible feel guilty about? You haven’t done anything to him, he was pretty sure of that. If anything, you have been becon since his rejection, guilt was the last thing he expects you to feel. Unless it’s something he doesn’t know about.

"Guilt?" he repeats, his voice gentle yet tinged with confusion. "What is it that makes you feel this way?"

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you try to find the right words. "It's these... feelings I have," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Feelings for who?” he wasn’t aware you had sometime you liked. And knowing that made him uncomfortable in his chest. It was a familiar feeling—like his heart has dropped to his stomach. A gasp leave Shia lips as you continue, his heart beat picking up.

“For you,” you express, looking eyes with him, “I’ve always liked you and I was content watching from afar. Then we started getting closer and my feelings gotten stronger. It’s became harder for me to ignore it. I can't help but feel guilty for having these emotions while knowing they may complicate our friendship.”

A faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he reaches out, his hand gently holding yours, a comforting gesture that you hadn't even noticed was trembling, “I think—no, I feel the same way,” he reveals.

Your eyes widen, your face flushing with warmth as you process his words, "You what?"

"I like you too," he confesses, his voice growing a little louder, “It took a while for me to realize it but when I did, I was scared that—uh, that another situation like before would happen again.” he moves to interlock your hands, lower his head bashfully as you’ve done in numerous situations.

You stare at him, your mouth hanging open in astonishment. "Do you really?"

His eyes meet yours, filled with warmth and fondness reflected in their depths. "I first noticed it when we were going to gather some fruit," he begins, his voice laced with a sense of nostalgia, "My stomach felt funny, and I couldn't help but feel excited when I saw your own excitement.”

He scoots closer to you, his shoulder gently brushing against yours, sending a delightful shiver down your spine. Your heart skips a beat, captivated by his closeness and his words.

"The first time my heart raced, I was scared and confused," he continues, his voice soft and filled with vulnerability, "You weren't even around, but it was as if you were right there in my thoughts. It took me a while to understand what those feelings meant, but now I do. I like you, more than ever. "

His eyes never leave yours as he speaks, and you can see the depth of his sincerity. It's a moment of shared revelation and vulnerability, a connection that goes beyond words.

A smile spreads across your face, mirroring the joy that fills your heart. "Me too," you whisper, your voice filled with an undeniable certainty. The weight of unspoken feelings finally lifted, replaced by the exhilarating realization that your feelings are reciprocated.

"I thought I misheard you when you said you'd be lucky to be with me," he chuckles, leaning his forehead against yours. "Little did I know, it would actually be the other way around."

You close your eyes, giggling softly at his words, flattered by his belief in your worth. "I see you," you whisper, too shy to meet his gaze. It feels surreal to hear him express his feelings so openly.

He gently releases your hand, his finger lightly tapping your cheek to get your attention. "Look at me," he insists, his voice filled with tenderness. "Tell me when you look at me."

With a bit of reluctance, you open your eyes, feeling a flutter in your stomach as your gazes meet. The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver of excitement down your spine, and in that moment, you realize that this is not a dream—it's your reality. Before you can utter a word, Rotxo beats you to it, leaving you breathless.

"I see you, (Name)," he says, his words overflowing with sweetness and sincerity. It shocked you that it was directed at you. Nearly felt like a dream if he didn’t plant a wet kiss on your nose, forcing you to wrap your head around that this was real, that he was there with you—not with Kiri or any o the other Na’vi woman.

Just you.

"Would this make it awkward, liking you after..." he starts to ask, his voice trailing off, unable to find the right words without it sounding off.

You shake your head, dispelling his concerns with a reassuring smile. "She'll understand," you assure him, confident in your response.

Because even though Kiri may have been oblivious to Rotxo's feelings, she had an inkling of your affection for him. That fateful night of raw emotions and a little too much alcohol had led to a heartfelt confession, revealing the depths of your feelings for Rotxo. In that moment, Kiri had grasp the truth, and though unspoken, an understanding had silently formed between you.

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theladyofbloodshed · 7 months

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You're The Closest To Heaven I'll Ever Be - Chapter 7

A whoosh of wind blew through the room, rustling the pages of her book. Elain swept in with it, a small bunch of flowers clutched to her chest as she twirled. With a flourish, she threw herself onto the low-slung couch opposite Nesta, pink skirts draping across the lush carpeted floor.

‘I am the luckiest woman in the world.’

‘Because I am your sister?’ Nesta countered.

With a beaming smile making her features shine, Elain brandished the bouquet to Nesta. It was a little tired from where Elain had likely clung to it on her walk home from the village, escorted by Mrs Lawrence as chaperone.

‘You hate peonies. You called them roses for paupers a few weeks ago.’

Elain snatched the flowers back and pressed them to her chest again. ‘It’s the thought that counts. Graysen didn’t have to buy me flowers. And they’re beautiful.’

They were nice enough but they looked as if he had torn them from somebody’s garden hastily before his meeting with Elain. Her sister was enamoured with them though so Nesta kept her lips firmly closed.

‘Maybe I won’t be the only lady in this house to receive flowers.’

On instinct, Nesta’s eyes flickered towards the windows, expecting to see shadows or wings.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Elain gave a coy smile. ‘Mr Dunne was on his way here. He’ll be knocking at any moment.’

As soon as the words were out, a knock did sound at the door. Nesta suppressed her groan. Many suitors had been sniffing about her father, enquiring after his eldest daughter’s hand – and he had been happy to indulge them in conversation so that he could bloat his account with further coin. Since Father had been away on the Continent, Nesta had snipped away every suitor like pruning dead flowers, chopping the heads off one by one. Only one man still came calling because he was too dopey to realise her scathing comments were meant to wound.

Mrs Lawrence’s voice echoed down the corridor as he was seen into the room by her. Rather than sprawling out, Elain sat upright, flowers still held in her lap. She greeted him with a nod of the head and a brief curtesy.

‘It is highly inappropriate to come unannounced and unwanted, Mr Dunne,’ said Nesta, not rising from her chair. She had tried to be polite, abrasive, or cold, and he still returned. ‘Even stray hounds can follow commands.’

‘You charm me with your tongue. I did come with a reason. I have written to your father this morning. A letter has been sent to Neva requesting your hand, officially.’

Elain let out a gasp. She had the luxury of marrying for love. Nesta did not. Destiny was cruel; because she was the eldest, she carried the family’s status on her shoulders. There was no future that she could carve, only her father could decide it. And, well, they rarely saw eye to eye. He wasn’t likely to take her views into account. Only in his absence, could Nesta meddle.

‘You will not find me an unpleasant companion,’ he continued, though Nesta already did. He was in his thirties, with a waistband that was stretching year on year with indulgences. The mutton-chops taking up most of his face were greying and untrimmed. He had not yet married but was filthy rich, seizing the unoccupied space their father had once held in trading.

Nesta was not naïve. She’d known a match would be made between her and a wealthy man, but did he have to be so unappealing on the eye and have the personality of a wet dishcloth?

‘Is that all I should want? A pleasant companion to spend all of my days with?’

There had to be more to life than being a docile wife whose dreams were systematically plucked away by her husband. Being a mother was important to her – but that wasn’t all she wanted. Now that their wealth was restored, opportunities were presented to her, ones that were denied in their destitution.

Nesta’s fangs were already exposed ready to draw blood. A glance was shared between Elain and Mrs Lawrence that said they ought to evacuate Mr Dunne from the room before Nesta shred him in two. She had already been called a difficult girl by Mr Polesworth as if she was a foul-tempered horse that could not be broken in fully.

‘I have sent a letter across the ocean to your father.’

She resisted the urge to snort. That was all it took, was it? A simple letter officially asking to be the husband of Nesta Archeron. That was all that was needed to tie them together for a lifetime.

‘And that should move me? Would you cross oceans of time to find me? How ardently will you love me, admire me?’ Nesta stood then to her full height – which had a good, few inches on him. ‘Would you not wish for any companion in the world, but I?’

Mr Dunne attempted to stammer out a reply, but Mrs Lawrence cut in. ‘Good grief, look at the time! We must host you at another time, Mr Dunne. We’d be overjoyed to have you for afternoon tea next Thursday. Miss Archeron will be on her best behaviour. She has been unwell of late.’

‘Ah the sea air would do her well. My family has a property with a vast land by the coast.’

Their voices carried from the room and Nesta let out a low laugh as she dropped back into her seat. Her fingers grazed the spine of her novel as she reached for it. Elain blew out a breath.

‘That was not nice, Nesta.’

‘I am not nice,’ she replied.

If he wanted to enter her den, he should expect the monster to be residing within. Mr Dunne was insufferable. If Father shackled her to him for a lifetime, Nesta would claw and shred until there was nothing left.

‘What did you mean, crossing oceans of time to find you? What was all that?’

‘Graysen will marry you because he loves you. I must marry whomever father decides will fill his pockets with the most money. Is it a crime to a want a man who would love me too?’ Nesta thumbed through her book to find her page, having closed it too hastily earlier. ‘If a man wants me, he should earn my love, not expect it.’

From her couch, Elain gave a small, mischievous smile – the likes of which Nesta hadn’t seen on his expression for many, many years. ‘You are a romantic at your core.’

Nesta made a tutting noise. ‘Delusional, perhaps, to hope a husband might want a wife who could meet him step for step in history and mathematics and be more than a brood-mare.’

Elain stood then, smoothing down her skirts with one hand. The peonies were gazed upon once more with airy delight, Nesta’s words hardly registering.

‘These need a vase and water,’ she said to herself before exiting the room.

It was difficult to know if Elain purposefully ignored comments that Nesta made or it was unintentional. She had been coddled and kept, year on year. When Nesta had asked her to think of the possible outcomes of Graysen discovering their youngest sister was fae, Elain had begun singing to herself and straightened the rug. She did not like to face reality, but it was a necessity. Elain preferred to keep her head in the clouds to avoid the rain whereas Nesta anticipated downpours before the clouds had even greyed.

As a result, she had nobody to share her misery with. The only one in the village who ever made time for their family was Clare. Thoughts of Clare had Nesta’s throat tightening. She had walked past the house the next morning. She’d thought along the way that there was a pungent smell of smoke strangling the air then her eyes had settled on the charred, smouldering remains of the Beddor home. It had felt as if the whole world stopped. Nesta had stared and stared in disbelief that a whole family could be gone – that nobody in the village even knew about it until the morning.

The sycophantic women who had made a return to their lives when money returned were not welcomed by Nesta. She had made a point of being rude and cold to them. Elain might have forgotten about the decade of shunning they received, eager to be back in society, but Nesta would never forgive them. She did not want – or need – such vain people in her life.

But it meant that she was alone. There was nobody to lean on, to share her worries about an impending engagement with, or even pass the time with for fun. Nesta had learned to be alone.

***

‘Where in the name of the Mother have you been?’

Cassian dropped the spoon he was holding and practically hurdled the low table in the living room to wrap Azriel in a bone-crunching embrace that lifted his feet from the ground.

‘Do that to him again,’ called Mor, ‘and he’ll disappear for another week.’

When Azriel was settled back down, Cassian returned to his soup. Mor lay on a couch, a lock of blonde hair twisted around the end of her finger.

‘I’ve been busy,’ he replied then joined them in the living room.

Busy.

Laughable. Debatable. Undeniable.

He had been busy of his own choosing. Azriel took on more missions on the Continent, more stakeouts, more canvassing. He was working himself ragged of his own accord. The order hadn’t been issued by Rhys. Hell, Rhys had not even contacted him for days. He'd do anything rather than be back at the mortal manor - although every single fibre of his being demanded he go there.

Not even him. These fucking shadows.

See her.

They whispered it even now.

Azriel did not want to even think of that word – mates – because it was impossible. She was mortal, so very mortal. In fifty years’ time, she might not even exist. A strong illness could take out mortals as easily as a dandelion head blown away. There was no such thing as a mating bond to a mortal. Bonds were rare amongst high fae, rarer still for Illyrians.

His shadows had a newfound fascination, that was all.

They had latched onto something new and shiny. Someone who didn’t balk from them. That was all. It was a novelty for somebody not to shy away from them so his shadows were getting carried away with their excitement.

‘I need to see Rhys.’

‘Good luck,’ said Mor with a tinkling laugh. ‘You won’t see him for at least a week.’

‘A week? You’re being generous. Four days, maximum,’ replied Cassian.

He glanced between the pair, not understanding their joyful expression.

‘Feyre accepted the bond,’ said Mor.

Oh.

Azriel had suspected it the moment Rhysand had stormed the wedding and spirited her to Velaris. Anybody else would have been kept in the Hewn City rather than risk them seeing their City of Dreams.

‘You can tell the story, Mor, since you were the one to stow Feyre in Illyria.’

It sounded as if Azriel had missed all of the excitement in his self-imposed exile. Whilst he was overjoyed for Rhys and Feyre, the ache in his chest gave a resounding sigh as if it was missing something. While Mor spoke of the attack on Rhys, Feyre ensnaring the Suriel and discovering the truth, and her taking Feyre to the cabin in Illyria, Azriel listened mutely. He had little to add to the conversation except his own congratulations which he’d pass along when they all reunited again. If anybody deserved a mate, it was Rhys. He was glad for his brother, but as he shuffled along to his room that night, Azriel couldn’t help but feel jaded. For over five hundred years, he had wanted only one female. He’d wanted to bond with her. Wanted her. And the Cauldron had decided that Azriel didn’t deserve Mor. He wasn’t equal to her.

The shower head rained down on his wings. He tipped his head up towards it so the heat washed over him. There were many things in his life that his childhood had forever changed. Showering was one.

Each day, a fresh bucket of water was brought to him to drink from. An empty one remained to relieve himself in. He doubted if they were ever truly washed. Once a week, after he saw his mother, Azriel was brought a bucket of tepid water with a few bubbles floating on the surface. It was all deliberate, he knew, so that he was sent to his mother as grimy as possible. One rag would be at the bottom of the bucket to scrub himself with. Azriel could never wash his wings properly with too-short a reach.

When Rhysand’s mother had taken him in, Azriel would stand under the shower for what felt like hours. He only ever came out when he was forced out either through food or some other means. Even now, Azriel did not like baths or open water. He’d learnt to swim later on as a necessity, but found no joy in it. Showers, however, were still something that he craved and looked forward to when his mood was low.

When Azriel finally emerged from his bathroom, his shadows were skittering over the bed like a pile of puppies. At his arrival, they scattered to the floor, leaving one solitary shadow on the bed.

‘Oh, remembered who sings to you, have you?’

It rushed at him. In one movement, it darted across his cheek, around the back of his neck then settled on a shoulder, curling towards his ear.

‘Did you enjoy your jaunt to the mortal lands?’

The shadow spoke to him.

Engagement.

Letter.

Neva.

At the words whispered into his ear, Azriel stiffened. The ache in his chest turned to something unbearable like a rib prised open, a heart plucked from within.

‘She’s the eldest daughter. It is a natural sequence of events for mortals.’

With war imminent and the abode of the mortal sisters likely to be a battleground soon enough, engagements seemed a folly. Azriel warred with himself over what to do with the information. It was inconsequential. It changed nothing. He had no need to pass it along to Rhysand or Feyre, even if it concerned her sister. And yet, Azriel could not stop himself from thinking of it as he lay in his bed, in the silent House of Wind. Did the eldest sister not deserve a life of happiness with a husband to take care of her? If the male had a safe place for Nesta, it was better she married and increased her distance from the Wall.

Her heart has not chosen him.

Azriel pulled a pillow over his head as he rolled over. The shadow continued trying to wheedle its way towards his face.

‘The heart does not always get what it wants.’

It gets what it needs.

#nezriel #you're the closest to heaven i'll ever be

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themodernwitchsguide · 8 months

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the norse gods

WYRD: destiny, the past that led up to the present

ORLOG: the relationship between actions and outcomes, the things in the present that affect the future

our primeval chaos this round,

GINNUNGAP: an area of abyss in between Niflheim (ice) and Muspelheim (fire). when these two regions grew in power and clashed, water was created

for once we only have one creation myth,

YMIR/AURGELMIR/BRIMIR/BLAINN: ancestor of the jotnar, he was born from venom that dripped from the rivers in Ginnungagap. fed on the milk of Auðumbla, Ymir bore a male and female out of his armpits and a six-headed being from between his legs. Odin, Vili, and Ve created earth from his flesh, oceans/rivers/lakes from his blood, mountains from his bones and teeth, trees from his hair, clouds from his brain, heavens from his skull, and Midgard from his eyebrow

AUÐUMBLA: primordial cow that was created from the fluid of melting ice in Ginnungap, she fed Ymir and licked the god Buri out of a salt rock over the course of three days

BURI: ancestor of the Aesir gods, fathered Bor

BOR: married the daughter of a frost giant, Bestla, and bore three sons, Odin, Vili, and Ve. these three grew tired with the unruly jotnar and killed Ymir, causing an avalanche of blood that killed all the giants except for Bergelmir and his wife

BERGELMIR: the ancestor of all "new" giants, resettled his race in Jotunheim

clan Aesir

ODIN: god of poetry, wisdom, war, and magic. Odin crowned himself king of the gods as he was the first one to decide to kill Ymir. he allowed himself to be hung from Yggdrasil for nine days and nine nights in order to understand the secrets of the runes and sacrificed one of his eyes in order to see the cosmos more clearly. some stories claim he could shape and understand Wyrd and Orlog. he had wolves named Gerki and Freki, ravens named Huminn and Muninn, and an eight legged horse named Sleipnir

FRIGG: once may have been the same goddess as Freyja, she is queen of the Aesir and goddess of beauty, love, and fertility, she was gifted with the power of foresight

BALDUR: son of Odin and Frigg, he was the pinnacle of beauty and likeability. his only weakness was mistletoe

HODR: son of Odin and Frigg, the blind god, he is tricked by Loki into shooting a mistletoe arrow, which kills Baldur

VALI: in some stories he's the son of Odin and the jotun Rindr, in others he's the son of Loki, but it makes more sense for him to be a son of Loki so let's just go with this. conceived to avenge his brother Baldur, which he did by killing Hodr and binding Loki with the entrails of Narfi

VIDAR: son of Odin and the jotun Gríðr, he is the god of vengeance, and is fortold to avenge his father by killing the wolf Fenrir at Ragnarok

HEIMDALL: son of Odin and "The Nine Mothers" (nine sea giants), god of keen eyesight and hearing, sometimes foresight. guardian of the Bifrost

TYR: son of Odin, god of war, justice, and order, he lost one of his arms to the wolf Fenrir

BRAGI: son of Odin, god of poetry

IDUNN: wife of Bragi, goddess of youth and fertility, her apples rejuvenated the Aesir gods and reversed the effects of aging

JORÐ: personification of the earth, consort of Odin, sometimes considered to be a jotun

THOR: son of Odin and the goddess Jörð, he is the god of lightning, storms, strength, fertility, and the protector of humankind. he wields the hammer Mjolnir

SIF: Thor's wife, goddess of faith, family and fertility

THRUD: daughter of Thor and Sif, goddess of strength

MAGNI: son of Thor and the jotun Járnsaxa, god of wrath

MODI: son of Thor, god of might

MIMIR: god of knowledge and wisdom, in some stories he is the advisor of Odin. he is sent either as a peace maker or hostage to the Vanir, where he is decapitated. Odin preserved his head and keeps it to guard a well on one of the roots of Yggdrasil

LOKI: god of mischief, wealth, and chaos. his children often caused trouble for other gods, Fenrir being the great wolf of Ragnarok, Jormungandr being the arch enemy of Thor, and Hel, who ruled Helheim

HEL: daughter of Loki and the jotun Angrboda, goddess of the underworld, she was tasked with taking care of the souls that ended up in her realm (since some ended up in Odin's Valhalla and some ended up in Freyja's Folkvangr)

NARFI: son of Loki and the goddess Sigyn, killed by Vali

clan Vanir

NJORD: patriarch of clan Vanir, god of wind, water, and fortune, he was the patron of fishermen and sailors

NERTHUS/NJORUN: although possibly just a female aspect of Njord, some theorize this is actually the sister-wife of Njord, mother of Freyja and Freyr. goddess of peace and prosperity

FREYR: son of Njord, god of peace, prosperity, male virility, and fair weather, ruler of Alfheim. after the conclusion of the Aesir-Vanir war, he was brought to Asgard as a hostage where he climbed his way up the ranks with charm and a good personality

FREYJA: daughter of Njord, goddess of love, beauty, fertility, and blessings. she is said to have introduced the gods to a form of magic called seidr, which was a form of seeing or changing the future

ODR: husband of Freyja, god of madness, wit and poetry. could also be an aspect of Odin, as they bear good similarities

HNOSS: daughter of Freyja and her husband Odr, her name means "gem"

GERSEMI: daughter of Freyja and Odr, her name means "treasure"

the goddesses of destiny, the Norns,

URD: "fate"

SKULD: "being"

VERANDI: "necessity"

#pagan #paganism #witchblr #witch #witchcraft #norse mythology #norse paganism #norse gods #norse pantheon #nordic #polytheist #polytheism #norse polytheism

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chaotic-good-hippie · 2 years

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Recuérdame

Pairing: Jack Russell (MCU) x FemReader (she/her) | SoulmateAU!

Summary: After losing his soulmate a little over a century ago, Jack has long forgotten about love, unable to move on. One night, in a nightclub, life gives him a second chance.

Warnings: Age gap (I mean, the man is 357 here), if you squint your eyes there are some sexual innuendos at the end, mentions of death, non-descriptive reader (but reader does drink tequila at some point)

Inspire by: "Recuérdame" cover by Natalia Lafourcade ft. Carlos Rivera

Tags: @littlenosoul | @bitchyglitterfox | @lilpunkrock | @kingtwhiddleston

«How terrible it’s to love something death can touch», especially if one is immune to it. Jack knew from the moment their eyes locked with each other's that he was bound to lose her eventually, that someday he’d have to watch her die, and there was nothing he— or anyone else— could do about it. He convinced himself he'll be prepared for it, let her go in peace when the time came. But heavens, did he underestimate how cruel destiny could be.

She started coughing on Monday morning, and by Wednesday night, she was gone. Jack couldn’t understand how it all happened so fast and why life had been so vicious with them both. The doctor, the best money could pay, said it was just the flu and that she’ll recover in days without further problems; yet, Jack could feel her slipping through his fingers with each passing hour. The cough gave place to a burning fever that forced her to bed, and by the next morning, she had trouble breathing as she came in and out of consciousness.

Desperate, he called every doctor, nurse, and healer in town and begged them to save his dear wife's life in exchange for whatever riches they desired. They tried everything their knowledge and skills allowed them to cure her and, at the very least, ameliorate the symptoms, but it was useless. He could see it in their faces, in the way they avoided certain words around him and their worried glances towards her.

Wednesday afternoon, everyone was sent home at her request, leaving them all by themselves in the mansion they had shared for seven blissful years. Enveloped in the darkness of night, the halls and rooms felt cold and devoid of life, the only sign of their presence coming from their bedroom: The faint light of a candle. It stood up by her bedside table, lighting up her wan face as he sat on a chair next to it, his head resting on her abdomen.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice came out as a breathy whisper as her tender fingers scratched behind his ear. “I’m terribly sorry, my love.”

“Don’t be; it’s not your fault.” It took everything in him not to break down into a puddle of tears and a mess of sobs. “You’ve been nothing but good to me.”

"Promise me you'll find another to keep you company." The request caught him off guard, his teary eyes turning to her in disbelief. "You're too pure for this world, my love. I'm afraid to leave you for all those terrors out there to feast upon you."

"Corazón, mi vida..." He took her hands between his to kiss her knuckles, his heart shattering into a million pieces inside his chest. He couldn't believe that even in her last moments, she was worried about him, the utter devotion and love she had for him. "I... I can't. I could never..."

"Jack, please, please." How could he deny her anything when she looked at him with such profound despair? "I want... No, I need you to be happy. I'll always be with you, no matter what; whenever you may be, I'll follow... But you can't be on your own for who knows how long, my love. I don't want you to be alone."

"Alright." He kissed her chapped lips delicately as he nodded. "I promise I won't be alone; you don't have to worry about me no more, amor mío."

"I love you."

"I love you too. You're the most beautiful thing that could ever happen to me."

He couldn't hold it anymore: a sob escaped from his lips as the first tear slid down his cheek. She was quick to dry it, and while he leaned against her palm with closed eyes, she softly stroked his hair.

"There better be a sea of marigolds and tequila on the altar this November, or I'll haunt you for the rest of eternity." She tried joking in hopes of seeing his smile one last time.

«Haunt me then! Be with me always— take any form— drive me mad! Only do not leave in this abyss, where I cannot find you!» Never had he understood Heathcliff's pain as much as he did then. Still, to avoid disturbing her further, he smiled and hugged her waist tighter.

"Whatever you desire, querida."

They remained silent after that, her loving touch and faint breath lulling him into sleep not long after. It was the rays of dawn that filtered through the closed curtains that woke him up hours later, the candle far extinguished. He didn't even need to look; her cold and stiff hands revealed that his greatest fear had come true.

"Vuelve a mi, corazón. Por favor, por favor..." He'd never cried so hard in his entire life, his face pressed against her chest as he repetead as a chant: "Te amo, te amo, te amo..."

Jack buried a part of himself with her, but the truth is, all he wanted was to end his misery and lay with her three feet underground. The first few weeks after the funeral, he found it impossible to get off their shared bed in an aching attempt to hold onto the lingering scent of her in the sheets. But when it vanished, along with all the remains of her presence in the mansion, he sold it and moved as far as he could. As for his promise, he couldn’t keep it; he couldn’t find it in himself to even look at any other, no matter how much time passed. He carried her deep in his chest, in that corner of his heart where he had built her a perpetual altar.

Years, decades, and a whole century passed, but the sorrow never truly disappeared; he just learned to live with it. Still, if one is observant enough and looks at him closely, one would find an ever-present mourning in his eyes.

In the darkness of this club, though— he thinks— you won't even be able to see your own shoes.

Every year since he met him, Ted will drag him and a bunch of other monsters to this particular nightclub in his town for Halloween. It's the only night of the year in which they can easily blend in with the humans without fearing the hunters, and a dark, crowded club is an excellent place to hide in plain sight. Typically, Jack would never set foot in a place like that, but for his friend, he'd withstand all the noise for some hours.

"Why is it that with every year, it gets stinkier in here?" Simon asks as they make their way to a table, the neon lights flashing them occasionally.

She's right; it reeks of alcohol and sweat, but it isn't even that bad. Besides, something sweet and pleasant is hiding among the crowd, luring Jack deeper into the place; it's familiar and welcoming, but he can't identify why.

"What is it, doggie?" Shiklah questions him after noticing his distracted demeanor, his eyes scanning the place. "Too much for an old wolf?"

"No, it's just... Can't any of you smell that? There's a weird scent in here."

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." Satana mocks him, making the others laugh.

As they sit and start catching up with each other, Jack finally identifies where he had smelled that aroma before, making his heart stop for a second.

An interesting thing about humans (and monsters, too) is that each one possesses a unique scent, and while their noses cannot identify this, his canine nature allows him to easily make the distinction. This is why he believes to be hallucinating when his brain finally puts a name and face to the aroma currently invading his nostrils. He knows that scent to its core; it's embedded in his skin and memory like a scar, one he had pushed to the back of his mind long ago for survival. It lights something within him, a part of him he believed to have been buried in a faraway land beside the one and only woman he's ever loved.

Jack jumps out of his seat, looking around him in confusion and longing. Whoever smells like that is getting closer, approaching their spot as he circles the table and tries to locate them.

"Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry," He answers Ted, who asked him if he's alright as the others look at him baffled. "I just need to..."

Distracted and blinded by the darkness, Jack bumped into a woman as he tried to excuse himself away from his friends, something spilling on his shirt.

"Chin! I'm terribly sorry!"

"Oh, no, don’t be; it’s not your fault!" The voice makes him freeze in his tracks, hands trembling. "I didn't see you there; it's too dark in here."

His gaze slowly lifts from the dark floor to the face of the woman in front of him, her face slightly illuminated by neon blue light. Her eyes lock with his, the faintest sign of familiarity in them, and god was he convinced for a moment to have died. Before him, there's a ghost; literally, she's dressed up as one: flowy white dress and dark makeup. Even in the dim, he can recognize all the marks and lines he'd traced so many times with his fingers, the curve of the lips he'd kissed endless times, and the irises he woke up to for seven years in what seems like a lifetime ago.

She looks just as when he first met her, her tone and movements are identical copies of hers, and she scents the exact fucking same. It drives him wild; it makes him hot and needy. He just wants to jump at her and hug her, smell her, kiss her, taste her...

"Lucifer!" Shiklah's voice wakes him from his trance. "You are the walking portrait of..." He steps on her foot to shut her up, earning a yelp from her part. The others turn to check on her, allowing Jack to apologize without feeling their stares on them.

"Damn it, I think I stained your shirt." she points to his chest, where a big wet spot lies: tequila, the smell tells him.

"It's nothing, really; I was distracted as well... Could I offer to buy you another?"

"You know? There are better ways to approach a woman than spilling her drink, pretty boy." His cheeks immediately burn; heavens, did he miss her coquetry.

"It worked, didn't it?" She laughs, a sound that crosses directly to his death-hollow heart and reanimates it from his century-long sleep.

"I usually don't accept drinks from strangers, but I think I could make an exception for you."

"I'm Jack Russell, at your service, señorita." Slowly, he took her hand and kissed the back of it, his gaze fixed on hers. "And you are...?"

She gave him the same name his lips were used to pronounce as a prayer in another life, one his tongue rolled off with such naturalness it seemed tailored to it.

"Not so much of a stranger now, eh? Now, how about that drink?"

"The bar is over there." She pointed to his left. "Want me to lead you, Jack?"

His heart fluttered as she looped her arm with his, guiding him across the floor with a seductive smile on her lips.

#jack russell x reader #jack russell #jack russell x you #marvel #mcu #werewolf by night #gael garcia bernal #soulmate au

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