#hes made a Choice to denounce it. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

abyssruler · 1 year

Text

would they choose you over the world?

aether (traveler), dainsleif, scaramouche, raiden ei, lumine (abyss), venti, xiao x gn!reader

AETHER thinks he can save both, no, he knows he can. The powers of this world rests at the tips of his fingers. He’s faced monsters and gods and come out alive and better than he was before. There’s no reason to hesitate, none whatsoever to consider his decision but—but. He has never been made to choose before. There was always another way, another choice, another something he could rely on. It’s a moral dilemma, like the situation with the train where you either save five people and kill one person, or kill five people to save one person. It’s easy enough to answer when it was simply that—a moral dilemma created to confuse him, not a world ending decision that lies on his shoulders. To choose one is to doom the other. Most people would choose the world, but while Aether is called a hero and the savior of nations, he is also a person. He looks at your resigned smile, like you already know which one he’ll choose, and he decides to prove you wrong.

DAINSLEIF clings to loss like a dying man does to the edge of a cliff. The inevitability of death and your mortality rests on his shoulders much like weight of his entire nation’s death. He wonders what it says about him that he’d rather have you safe and sound than have the world be saved. Five hundred years of aimless wandering, fighting against the remnants of his fallen nation and watching the world move on while he remains untouched by time, the ghost of a past that can never be returned to. Dainsleif isn’t a hero, he’s tired. All that’s left of him are fading memories of a time gone by and moments with you that he clings to like a lifeline. What has this world ever done for him except cause him pain and needless grief? What has it done to deserve his sacrifice? Nothing. And so he rests, hand in hand with you on withering grass and waits for the world to end. At least, this time, he won’t be alone in watching the heavens descend.

SCARAMOUCHE laughs, and laughs, and laughs until he’s sure even the gods that reside in Celestia has heard the scorn and mockery in his voice. It is so laughably easy to choose you and denounce the world. Let it be turned to ash and dust, let his body dance on top of a desolate world, let him pull you in an embrace and delight in the fact that no sun and no light (for none of these exist anymore) would ever outmatch the brightness in your eyes, the smile on your face, the tinkling sound of your laughter amidst the remains of a world that once threatened to snuff your life like a candle left in the dark. He is like a flame and you, the spark. There’s a tsunami gathering on the horizon, threatening to drown everything in its wake, but instead of preventing it, he revels in the ruin it will bring. It is either your death alone or yours and everyone else, and if you have to die either way, then he will die with you and drag the rest of the world along in his self-appointed destruction. You taught him what it felt to no longer be alone, so he will make sure you’re never lonely, even in death.

EI feels weightless, like a leaf adrift in the wind. It feels like she is back to that moment five hundred (a thousand) years ago, a dilemma, a decision, a choice—follow Makoto to Khaenri’ah, or defend her people from the monsters ravaging the lands? There was uncertainty there, a small seedling of hope that she would arrive not far from Makoto and see her sister alive and waiting, and so she had made the decision to stay—but this? Faced with an ultimatum, the world or your death, Ei finds that the decision is much more difficult, much more devastating but no less heartbreaking. Had it been before, in her lonesome at the Plane of Euthymia, the choice would have been easy, barely a thought in her mind, but everything has changed and Ei wants, in a way she has never wanted before, to be with you. You with your smiles and your laughs and the warmth you induce in her frigid heart—and she finds that she cannot make a choice… so you do it for her. For the greater good.

LUMINE doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t even flinch before she turns her back to the world and takes your hand. What good is the world if you’re not there in it? She won’t just stand by and watch as everything she holds dear is destroyed in front of her—not anymore. There is you, there is her, and there is the world burning, and Lumine finds that she can hardly care. Her heart has no place for faceless people, no love left for a world that has done nothing but spurn and trample on everything she had offered. Let it burn if it means having one more second, one more minute, one more lifetime with you. A choice isn’t truly a choice if the other option was never considered, and she will never consider a world without you. There are millions, billions, countless other worlds out there she could take you to. Damn this place, damn the heavens, and damn the consequences. Her brother would understand, he always has, and when Lumine meets him again in a new world, she’ll make sure to introduce you to him.

VENTI wants, like Icarus yearning for the Sun, but Venti is Venti, and Barbatos is Barbatos. Right now, he cannot afford to be that carefree bard who spun tales of your lovely hair and lovelier still lips (cannot be Icarus who flew too close to the sun and fell). Venti wants—but Barbatos knows the best option, the best choice, the least devastating one but the most heart-wrenching one. The situation is funny, laughable, hilarious, really, the kind that makes his stomach ache and brings tears to his eyes that drip down his cheeks and onto the ground and—oh, he’s crying. He’s crying and holding you close and apologizing, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, and he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness, doesn’t deserve the hand carding through his hair and the soft press of your lips on his forehead as you murmur, don’t cry, it’s alright, you’re doing the best you can. But the best means not doing this at all, the best means not having to make a choice at all, the best means not having to say goodbye. It’s okay, you tell him, I forgive you. But he never forgives himself.

XIAO thinks there must be another way, there has to be another way. He won’t accept this, won’t allow himself to choose between losing you or losing everything, because he knows, deep down, that the choice has already been made and it is not the one he wants. But he knows better than most that doing what he wants isn’t always what is needed, that certain sacrifices must be made despite his unwillingness, despite his entire body protesting against it. Rex Lapis once told him that being a god means making difficult decisions. If this is what it means to be a god, then he will accept a life of service, a life of war and fighting and breathing like every second is his last—because pain and suffering are infinitely better than having to wake everyday without your voice by his ear, giggling about how you finally caught him asleep. A world without your light, without your presence, without you is a desolate one. There must be another way, another sacrifice to be made that doesn’t involve you. Just—anything, anyone but you. Even if it has to be him.

#merry christmas <3 #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #aether x reader #dainsleif x reader #ei x reader #raiden ei x reader #raiden shogun x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #lumine x reader #venti x reader #xiao x reader #gn reader

7K notes · View notes

malinthebodyguard · 18 days

Text

Young Royals is anti-monarchist propaganda (always has been)

I think it’s fair to say that most of the fandom was quite happy with the finale. However, I’ve seen a handful of posts by people who were unhappy, specifically those who were unhappy with Wille giving up his place in the line of succession. These criticisms range in everything from dismissing Wille’s choice (Wilhelm has made a harsh decision without thinking of the consequences, this won’t actually make the media circus around him go away), to those disappointed in how the monarchy in general was represented (Wille could have modernized the institution, no one in the show attempted to consider how the monarchy could be good, actually). I don’t want to invalidate anyone’s feelings about the finale. If you didn't like it, that’s more than ok and I don’t want to argue with anyone about their taste.

But when it comes to criticism about Wilhelm giving up the throne, I do find myself frustrated at what I see as a fundamental misunderstanding of what this show was trying to communicate. Young Royals, plain and simple, is a story that denounces the incompatibility of antiquated and hierarchical institutions (Hillerska, the monarchy) with equality and justice.

If you’ve had the displeasure of being my fandom friend you’ll know that I’ve spent the last 3 years yelling about how this show is about abolishing the monarchy. I even wrote a lengthy fanfic with the sole excuse of having Wilhelm arrive at this conclusion. Still, I knew that whatever statement the show wanted to arrive at, we’d only really be getting to it at the end of the show.

Seasons one and two were setting up all the characters on the chessboard for the end: Wilhelm is the Crown Prince, although he does not want to be. He and Simon are in love, but Wilhelm’s role drives a wedge between them. Erik’s legacy and August's spot next in line are keeping Wilhelm in his place.

From episode one, I think the show was telling us about the many things that are wrong with the monarchy, but I don’t think it’s until season three that these discussions become more explicit. Is this why some people were disappointed by the ending? Maybe so. Still, I wanted to look at how season three in particular answers some of the questions or issues people are bringing up regarding both the monarchy and the Wilhelm’s choice.

What do you like about the monarchy?

Season 3 Episode 4 is the first time we hear an explicit discussion about why the monarchy could potentially be a good institution. I’ve seen some people complain that the show didn’t give this idea enough thought.

I completely disagree with this take: the short conversation Wille and Simon have in this episode is succinct, but still effective at presenting both arguments in this debate. A longer and more drawn out conversation would have been a bit unrealistic and probably boring to watch. These are not academics having a debate, but two teenagers who are talking about what for them is emotionally charged.

There’s also no need for a longer, more detailed discussion. Wilhelm does provide a very good answer to the question: The monarchy is there to unite the people. To be a neutral party in situations when the government cannot or will not interfere.

A quick civics lesson: In parliamentary democracies, the monarch serves as the Head of State.

This role is predominantly representative, although in many places the government is formed in the name of the monarch. This could, theoretically, grant them some political power-- since they could technically reject the winning party from forming a government. However, in most parliamentary monarchies, the King or Queen simply has to accept whatever decision is made based on election results.

However, the value of the Head of State is precisely in its apolitical nature. Regardless of who’s in power, the head of state is a neutral ambassador of the nation, both in and outside of their country. Their job is diplomatic and representative, and one that is thoroughly divorced from politics. This is what Wilhelm meant when he said that the monarchy was there to ‘unite the people’. Whenever I’ve spoken to pro-monarchy folks about their beliefs, they cite this as the reason why they like it.

It’s easy to see why Wilhlem would latch on this as his main argument to defend the institution. I don’t think there is anything inherently bad about having a separate head of state that represents the country. I don’t think the major grip with this issue is the having a head of state, but the fact that the head of state is a hereditary position. Simon says this himself twice in this episode: the issue is not that the head of state exists, but that the head of state is not an elected position. Furthemore, the head of state is a role that is imposed on a person not by their talent as a public speaker or negotiator, but by a simple accident of birth.

The job’s legitimacy or importance should not be above any individual’s right to autonomy and self-determination. Furthermore, considering that taxpayers are the ones who finance this position, shouldn’t they be able to elect who it is?

Let’s imagine a scenario where a friend tells you they’ve gone into a career because everyone in their family works in that industry, and they simply had no choice in the matter. It wouldn’t even matter if they were good or bad, they had a job in this career guaranteed from birth.

Would you not be concerned that maybe your friend is unhappy for a rather unnecessary reason? Would you not think that perhaps someone who actually wanted the job would be better suited for it? Would you think it right for a company to hire someone simply because of their family history? Would you consider any of this fair? And what is so special about monarchy that makes us have a different answer for it than we would if the question was about law or medicine?

You’ll always be famous.

Another common criticism I’ve seen is that Wilhelm will inevitably regret his decision, especially once he realizes that public scrutiny will not be going away. This is true, Wilhelm will likely always be a figure of public interest. But to me, this has always been a negative consequence of the monarchy, and I have a hard time seeing this is a valid reason why he should stay in it.

From the second we meet him, we know Wilhelm is uncomfortable with both the public attention and the scrutiny placed on him. However, this goes a bit further than that. I’d argue than more than the scrutiny itself, Wilhelm is weighed down by having to keep a public image. Because, remember folks, Wilhelm is not merely an awkward teenage boy with acne and a crush. No, no, Wilhelm is the State. Wilhelm is going to be a publicly-funded representative of the nation . This means, of course, that there’s a narrative, as he mentions himsef, that needs to be put forward. One that’s generic, serious, and unproblematic:

From the get go, Wilhelm is uncomfortable with the inauthentic and performative aspect of his role.This is a constant we see with Wilhelm in seasons one and two: every ‘performance’ he has to do fills him with nausea, anxiety, or some sort of discomfort.

In season three, Wilhelm begins acquiescing to this performance. Uncomfortable as he may be, for most of season 3 he’s accepted that this is his role. However, the attention this season shifts from Wilhelm to Simon, who’s now the one facing public scrutiny. The difference is that, unlike Wille, there’s no role for Simon to play. Nothing about who he is or what he believes is compatible with the public image the monarchy is putting forward. The only thing he can do in this situation is disappear, and Wilhelm is tasked with having to ask that of him.

I know a lot of people were exasperated at Simon’s very bad and clumsy social media presence. I’m not gonna argue that my boy wasn’t being a bit cringey, because he absolutely was. But I think the larger commentary here has more to do with the expectation that these two teenagers have to censor and edit themselves to comply with a particular PR image.

Ultimately, the criticism that Wilhelm will always be famous leads us straight back to the institution. Why does an underage boy have the same PR expectations as a politician? Why is a teenager dating his classmate + being cringe online justification for doxxing him? Unfortunately, no abdication is really going to undo any of this, and things are certainly going to be crazy once Wilhelm announces he’s stepping down .

However, this time around both he and Simon will at least have the agency to decide what they want to do with their public image, including the decision to disappear from the public completely if that’s what they want.

Queer representation

This a sentiment that has been in the fandom for some time now. This was the main argument why some people wanted Wille to stay in the monarchy. Sure, the institution has always been about bloodlines and tradition. But wouldn’t it be so nice to have Wilhelm as a symbol for the queer community? I’ve always found this idea a bit shallow. I’m not sure how much of a symbol of a queer and progressive country Wilhelm could be, when the whole idea is predicated on absolutely no one having a choice in the matter. Is it really impressive to accept the queerness of the guy you already had no choice in accepting?

There’s three scenes in season 3 where the potential Wilhelm -and by extension Simon- could have for the queer community come up. Farima brings it up in the first episode, but the framing here is reversed. Wilhelm isn’t serving the LGBTQ community by being a queer Prince, but the monarchy is using Wilhelm (and his queerness) to appear progressive.

The show, however, does humor this idea with the May 1st photo. We see what Simon and Wilhelm could potentially do for the community by simply existing as who they are: they’re inspirational. It gives Simon, briefly, hope that maybe something good could come out of this.

But this moment is quite literally framed by politics. It doesn't matter that Simon is not participating in that manifestation, anything that is slightly connected with politics is a challenge to neutrality of the monarchy. This same idea is stated more explicitly int the next episode, when Wilhelm is reviewing the options for his charity.

Ultimately, any action significant enough to be truly impactful, would be bordering the limits of what could be considered political. He's got to stick it out with these quite frankly boring and limited themes, all for the sake of staying on the very narrow lane of things that are not political.

The weight of the crown.

Stories about Kings and Queens usually carry the same fundamental tension of duty vs self.

In order to rule, our protagonist has to sacrifice themselves, usually for the sake of their country and people. The Crown is an excellent example of this type of story. Sacrifice in that series is framed as something noble and selfless.

Young Royals started out with this same fundamental tension, but the main difference is that Young Royals has framed this debate as a question:

Why should Wilhelm give himself up, his happiness, the love of his life, and his mental well-being? What’s so important and valuable about this institution that requires this sacrifice?

Wilhelm’s journey is about accepting and voicing his answer. He doesn’t want to be Crown Prince, he doesn’t want to be King.

But by virtue of taking part of this journey with him, we’re able to examine this question from a different perspective: Is this institution valuable enough to justify all of this? I think the show is inviting all of us to evaluate this situation and arrive at the conclusion that it isn’t.

Even someone like August, who wanted this, is weighed down by the realization of just how much the crown weighs. Of course, a big part of the fandom probably doesn’t live in countries with parliamentary monarchies. Still, considering the worldwide popularity of the British Royals, for example, I still think it’s a worthwhile exercise to question the validity of these institutions. Are they really worth sustaining? And if they’re not, why should we continue to drag them on into the present, citing tradition?

#young royals #prince wilhelm #Wilhelm #wilhelm yr #simon eriksson #Wilmon #Politics in Young Royals #august horn #yr meta #my and

320 notes · View notes

smhalltheurlsaretaken · 7 months

Text

One thing I do like about TOTJ's take on Dooku's fall is that it really highlights that the Dark Side makes you absolutely masochistic. (Mega long post ahead).

One thing TOTJ establishes is that Qui-Gon's death is absolutely on Dooku (no matter if the show itself doesn't seem to be aware of it).

His tone is concerned and his attitude sympathetic and supportive, but he knows. He knows it's a Sith Lord (he even knows Maul's name). He knows Qui-Gon almost died and is marching right into another trap, but he asks questions anyway and affects ignorance.

"I've been warning them about the coming darkness for years," he says, "never to be taken seriously." Using the Council's skepticism as an occasion to complain about how they didn't believe him while lying by omission is a great case of that hypocrisy Dooku loves denouncing in others. Dooku would rather Qui-Gon share his disillusionment with the Jedi than actually do anything to help Qui-Gon. The Council don't believe him? Okay, Dooku, but YOU DO. You can just tell him what's going on.

But he doesn't.

On some level, Dooku has to be aware of what's about to happen. Qui-Gon is walking into grave danger, and Dooku's response to that - before it happens, when there is still time to stop it - is to put the blame on the people who don't know shit while not doing shit himself. (Why can't Dooku be there to protect Qui-Gon, other than because he's already slavishly loyal to Sidious' plans?)

And this moment puts every subsequent action of Dooku's throughout the Prequels in perspective - particularly his relationships with Obi-Wan, Ventress and Yoda.

Dooku is a glutton for punishment.

I've written here about why I think the 'Box' from TCW 4x17 is meant to parallel Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon's mission on Naboo. The dioxis, ventilation shafts, the catwalks and lightsabers, the ray shields, the fire pit... Dooku's idea of a test to find the best mercenaries around is to have them survive what killed Qui-Gon (what he allowed to happen).

During the challenge, it's pretty obvious he starts to suspect Hardeen is Obi-Wan.

Or at the very least, he's taking an interest in the man who supposedly killed Qui-Gon's own apprentice - Dooku's spiritual grandson (see RotS novelization), whom he's been trying very hard to either recruit or kill himself. And what does he do with that interest? Tries to push "Hardeen" to kill Eval in anger.

Dooku, who still mourns the Padawan he knowingly let walk away to his death, watches a pantomime of his Padawan's death, while putting in mortal danger all he has left of said apprentice. If he knows Hardeen is Obi-Wan (and it's pretty obvious that he does), he tries to get Obi-Wan to Fall (or potentially die) in a scenario reenacting Qui-Gon's death. If he doesn't know for sure, then he's encouraging his all but grandson's killer to win the tournament because he admires him (for killing someone Dooku wanted by his side).

Whatever the outcome, Dooku chooses to relive his guilt and chooses to make the same choice to kill his loved one all over again, even though we know he hates that he made this choice:

He misses Qui-Gon and needs him but tries to kill or destroy Obi-Wan, whom he needs and wants by his side. (I haven't counted just how many time he does try killing Obi-Wan in TCW while still expressing his indefectible admiration for him - it's frequent, the Box just stands out to me as one of the most noteworthy occasions.)

And he keeps doing stuff like that!! He keeps choosing the path that causes him the most pain. He does it with Sifo-Dyas, he does it with Yaddle, he does it with Yoda and he does it with Ventress.

Just look at him confronting Sidious about Qui-Gon's death:

He KNOWS following Sidious got Qui-Gon murdered and he KNOWS Sidious will continue to kill or order him to kill people close to him. And yet he's quick to reassure Sidious that this doesn't change anything. Securing his position with Sidious matters more than his rage and grief. The ONLY WAY this behavior makes sense is if Dooku is fully aware that he had a choice about Qui-Gon's fate, and decides that this is the path he's on now: Sidious might make him kill everyone he cares about, but he's going to do it. Every time, things will play out the same.

Sidious tells him to kill Ventress, his new apprentice? Sure, why not!

(And it's not even out of true loyalty for Sidious, because he constantly tries to double-cross him later on. It's pure self-destruction:)

He hates it, Sidious promises him more of it, and he goes along with it!

This is why Yaddle's attempts at bringing him back don't work, in my opinion:

"Whatever lies he's told you, whatever you have done, you can make up for it now by bringing him to justice." This might convince a man who is looking for atonement, except Dooku isn't. He is looking for punishment.

Killing or harming those close to him leaves him broken, furious or in pain? He'll just keep doing it.

Sidious offers him nothing more than agonizing slavery? He'll keep on kneeling.

That's when Yaddle literally offers him the Light - the light that is so much more powerful than the Dark that it has Sidious cowering, the light that can save him if he wants - Dooku just strikes her down, even though he was heartbroken over thinking he had killed her just a moment ago.

He chooses to kill her, regrets it and hates himself for it, and chooses to kill her again. HE KEEPS MAKING THE CHOICE THAT HE KNOWS WILL HURT.

His remedy to guilt is to pick a shovel, because by God if he hasn't hit rock bottom yet he's going to dig!

#long post #meta #dooku #darth sidious #obi-wan kenobi #qui-gon jinn #yoda #yaddle #tales of the jedi #count dooku

629 notes · View notes

bird-inacage · 7 months

Text

Only Friends: Why Ray x Mew is Doomed to Fail

This show is consistently catching me off guard and I LOVE that. I was not expecting this to come out of the fallout, mostly because I didn't see Mew ever choosing this. But here we are. As soon as the final scene of Ray and Mew dancing at Yo's bar came on screen, I was wildly uncomfortable. Something felt so inherently wrong and off-kilter with this image. So let's discuss why.

Resigned Acceptance VS Active Choice

Let's be clear firstly; Mew hasn't chosen Ray. The entire exchange between them is Mew doing calculations in his head. And what he concludes is if someone loves you far more, then you don't lose out. Logically it's a far easier and safer proposition to try. (Whereas with Top, who was supposedly so out of Mew's league, has now caused Mew a tonne of insecurity because of his betrayal). Ray can't hurt him because Mew has never regarded Ray as suited for that spot.

It's with an air of resigned acceptance (and an obvious lack of any enthusiasm) that Mew accepts Ray's pursuit of him. Like a lukewarm shrug, 'Yeah. I guess. I suppose. Why not.' Right now Mew needs a distraction and here is his perfect opportunity to appear as if he's 'moved on' already. That he's unaffected. Mew is only doing all of this because he's hurting. If Top hadn't cheated, his stance on Ray would still be unwaveringly firm.

This also serves as an ideal way to punish Top. Top's reason for cheating was thinking (wrongly) that there was something going on between him and Ray. So why not rub that in his face and actually have something going on now to spite him? Top's worst nightmare manifested.

Mew Playing Mew 2.0

I had a really strong feeling this episode that Mew was trying to emanate Ray, especially with his new look. Bit by bit, Mew is denouncing everything that once made him who he was. He's trying to embrace the opposite end of the spectrum and his closest point of reference is Ray.

Ray isn't responsible. Ray is impulsive. He has everyone else taking care of him. I think in some ways Mew may envy Ray at times. The luxury to be reckless, spontaneous and have people around you to pick up the pieces. To test run Ray's 'fuck it' mentality for a change and forego accountability is freeing, it's seductive.

However, Mew 2.0 is just Mew playing 'dress up'. It's a costume and a form of armour but nothing more. Mew is not coupling up with Ray as his authentic self (and ultimately the 'self' that Ray fell in love with). The man Ray loves VS the man Ray is now dating are two different people. There's already a layer of falsehood sandwiched between them.

Ray's Glorification of Mew

In Ray's eyes, Mew can do no wrong. The way that Ray sees Mew is faultless, blemish-free, almost saintlike. Mew is his saviour and Ray holds him on a incredibly high pedestal. This puts an enormous amount of pressure on anyone who is the subject of this adoration.

When we love someone, what we really desire is to be seen for all the things that makes us painfully human. The things we hate about ourselves; the ugly, the unsightly, the flaws - for someone to know us at our very worst and still love us despite all that.

Ray's opinion of Mew means he can never truly appreciate who he is as just another person who has his faults and shortcomings. It also means Ray is likely to look to Mew to have the answers, to share his wisdom and that's just not always going to be the case.

For now, Ray may be basking in the awe of living his ultimate fantasy but I don't think he'll be able to cope with the reality being less than perfection. Of Mew being less than perfection. You've set Mew up to fail, and you've doomed this relationship to fall short of the spectacular grandeur you may have conjured in your head.

This pairing is fundamentally not on equal footing. Mew is vicariously living through Ray like some rollercoaster ride to hedonism. Ray is a means for him but not a destination.

#only friends #only friends the series #ofts #only friends meta #ray pakorn #ray #mew #raymew #mewray #khaotung thanawat #book kasidet #it's a hard no from me #this pairing gets more messed up the more i think about it #ray really thought they were bonnie and clyding it didn't he??#you naive idiot child #i don't want it #no thank you

206 notes · View notes

the-wine-dark-sea · 8 months

Text

So, why Shostakovich?

That's what I wondered, watching Aziraphale in Maggie's record shop.

Shostakovich is a rather recent composer for Aziraphale to listen to - I mean, he regards Glenn Miller as modern. I would have expected him to get something that's a more obvious choice - maybe one of the composers Crowley mentions early in S1? That would have been a nice nod to that scene. Why Shostakovich? So I read up on the man, and then I understood.

Because Shostakovich was a Soviet-era composer, and came into conflict with the regime more than once.

In 1936, his career took a massive hit after a campaign against one of his works, because the music was viewed as "deliberately dissonant" - it didn't conform to some people's idea of of what Soviet music should be like. He did not strictly adher to their narrow ideals and felt the consequences. (And he was lucky. He had friends and family who were killed during the Great Terror, which started around that time.)

This forced him to try and adept and eventually his career recovered.

He was denounced again 12 years later, during a wider campaign against Western influences on Russian music. He had to apologize, many of his works were banned and he and his family lost privileges.

In 1960, Shostakovich made a controversial decision: He joined the Communist Party. It is unclear why he did this, whether it was fear, political pressure or indeed his own free choice - though reportedly he was in tears afterwards and told his wife about having been blackmailed.

So we have a composer whose work was repeatedly marked as non-conforming to the regime he lived under, not living up to some arbitrary, propagandistic standard, even after he tried to adapt his style. And we have an angel who never quite fit in with Heaven, whose approach to the world and his work were seen as silly at best, who was admonished for the way he used miracles and eventually declared a traitor.

We have a composer who, for one reason or another, ended up joining the party that had punished and humiliated him in the past. And we have an angel who ends up going back to Heaven.

I get why Shostakovich was an obvious choice, after all. What I can't get over is the implication that WE WERE TOLD AS EARLY AS EP 1 THAT AZIRAPHALE WOULD REJOIN HEAVEN!?? EVEN THOUGH IT WOULD MAKE HIM SUFFER AND MIGHT NOT BE AN ENTIRELY VOLUNTARY DECISION EITHER?? The audacity (I love it) to put that out there right from the start, for everyone to see who only cared to look, when none of us would be paying too much attention to it on the first watch.

#it's so obvious really #I mean I got all this from a ten minute scroll through Shostakovich's Wikipedia entry #it's right there #Good Omens #Aziraphale #Dmitri Shostakovich #Shostakovich #meta

267 notes · View notes

maboroshi-if · 1 year

Video

SNote: Maboroshi is intended for 16+ audiences. Strong Violence and Swearing/Cursing will be in the IF. The warning list will be updated as we continue. Intro Post is still being pulled together, so if there are any questions, let me know!

Maboroshi is an Interactive Fiction Game based in the world of Naruto, however, all events within the story span during the end of the First Shinobi War and the beginning of the Second Shinobi War.

Long ago, many years before you were born, the countries of the world were entrenched in warfare for land. Mighty warlords and noblemen wished to expand their territory; however, blood would need to be given in exchange; Unfortunately, for the people of the land, the blood given as payment was not theirs. Instead, shinobi across the lands sacrificed their lives to fulfill the greedy lord’s wishes. Villages would soon be pillaged, children and women would perish from famine, and demonic creatures would rise from the darkest parts of the world to roam the earth. This would later be known as the Warring States Era.

Twenty years later, all the infighting, battles, and wars would just...cease to exist. No one knows what caused the wars to stop; many believe that an inner deal was made between Daimyo across the land, while others believe something much more sinister is at play. Regardless, the ninja world seems to have finally settled into peace and harmony.

It has been some years since the Warring States Era ended. Villages across the land have been ushered into peace, and the village of Kirigakure is one of them.

Having just graduated from Ninja Academy, you're now a Genin placed into your forever squad. Focused on growing stronger and building a name for yourself. You set your sights on becoming the strongest nin in your village, and who knows? Maybe you'll even become Mizukage someday. Before that happens, you'll need to pass the Chunin exam, a test that is said to have painted the very soil underneath your feet red.

Exam preparations are put on hold when rumors of war begin spilling across the peninsula.

Tonari Yuma, a missing-nin from your village once accused of kidnapping and killing five children from all across the Land of Water, has resurfaced as a chieftain in the small village of Kirostache.

Proclaiming himself to be the rightful Mizukage of the Land of Water. He wages war against Kirigakure and denounces your village as a town full of traitors united in dethroning the Daimyo by the usage of dark means. Your father calls it foolish. There is no way that the Water Daimyo would believe such a basis.

Or so he hopes.

A conspiracy is brewing in the Land of Water, and you will soon learn that life is not as idealistic as you believed.

Fully customize your character!

I MEAN IT; fully customize them! Choose your

Hairstyle and type

Hair color is locked to red, but you have the option to pick different shades of red,

Skin color,

How you appear to others,

Eye color,

Ninja outfit + civilian outfit

Name + Nickname

Gender,

Genital choice + Body Shape will come in Part 2

Pronouns

Height

Weapon (you can’t use your chakra ALL the time)

Birth Season

Backgrounds are locked based on your chosen clan

More to come soon...

Choose one of three clans to be your paternal lineage

Tsuchigumo: Become Spidewo-(man)! or not.

Yuki: Possess the Ice Release Kekkai Genkai

Shirogane: Puppet Masters who originate from the land of Wind

Become a master of either Taijutsu, Genjutsu, or Ninjutsu

Or master a combination of all three!

Romance 8 ROs

Three are available for Part 1

Four ROs will be introduced in Part II. The last is a secret RO

Pass the chunin exam!

Failing means your death, so make sure you are ready when you take it.

Complete a bunch of D-rank and C-rank missions; you're only a genin, after all.

Learn forbidden jutsu or stick to a path of purity (aka, do nothing fun!)

Meet some fan favorites as they were when they were alive!

Determine your fighting style: are you more brutal, or do you have finesse?

Or maybe you don't want to fight at all!

Become a Jinchuurki? It could happen

Choose to become a medic-nin if it suits your fancy!

Izuna Uchiha (M): The Rival A boy shrouded in mystery, he is a constant reminder of your first C-rank mission and what went so terribly wrong. You’ve tried your hardest to make peace with him. But it feels impossible. He's a stranger in your tight-knit village and has found himself to be treated like an outsider. You would feel bad for him; if he weren’t so smug. Replacing one of your squadmates, he has shown an aptitude for warfare and finesse that makes you weary. How can a child who has grown up in a world of peace be so ruthless? Get to know him and you’ll unfortunately find out.

Izuna possesses an aptitude for Taijutsu, Ninjutsu, and Genjutsu, making himself a triforce. And it makes no sense to you, considering that you hardly see the boy practice! It will be interesting to see how he grows. If he makes it.

Chihiro Inoue (F): The Dreamer

One of your squadmates, she is a loud and outspoken girl with large dreams and big ambitions. Working to become the first female Mizukage, Chihiro often displays headstrongness and an overzealousness that can often get her into trouble. Luckily for her, fortune always seems to work in her favor.

Chihiro possess an extremely high aptitude for Taijutsu and Ninjutsu, calling herself a self-proclaimed weapons master. She gives as good as she gets, and has no problem getting a little dirty.

Tanui Hozuki (M or F): The Jokester

A jokester, they seem to have no desire to become a ninja; but with all that chakra they possess, they are given no choice. Apart of Squad Six, it makes no sense why you seem to run into them all the time, but you find their presence comforting.

You know nothing about their fighting style; only hearing whispers of the ‘wicked’ things that they have summoned from the adults in your village.

Shinichi Hoshigaki (M): The Lost One/Secret RO

The second member of your original squad. Shinichi is the complete opposite of what you would expect from the Hoshigaki clan. Known for being fierce and aggressive, Shinichi is the exact opposite of the savage reputation that precedes them. Soft and friendly, Shinichi is a gentle soul and abhors the act of violence. But when push comes to shove, he will protect himself and his friends with the vengeance of Asura. Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough to save him. Or was it?

Shinichi possesses a high aptitude for the sword. Almost on par, if not matching Chihiro in strength and brutality. He favors the Water Release Jutsu; typical for someone coming from his clan.

Akane Uzumaki: your mother is revered as the five-tailed beast's holy priestess/vessel. Once labeled as one of the strongest Kunoichi in your village, she has settled into domestic life and has left behind a life of adventure. She seems content; however, you catch the sorrowful expression on her face whenever she looks at you.

[[Chooseable Name]]: Your father is a distant cousin of the Water Daimyo, considered a war hero for his actions in a rebellion that lasted almost ten years. He has been given the highest spot in the village as "supporting Kage," only second to the Mizukage himself.

Hanabi Sugawara: Your sensei; is not what you had expected in a teacher. Seeming to coddle your small team of three more than teaching you. You feel that she is hiding something, something that could put everyone in danger.

DEMO (Coming soon) || RO Appearances || Discord (Maybe)

#maboroshi if #naruto if #twine game #twine wip #if wip #if games #interactive games #interactive fiction #ret-canon!!#interact if #cyoa #anime if #naruto #interactive novel

548 notes · View notes

gay4abby · 5 months

Text

A Significant Crack in Time !!

or in which jordan has an important decision to make & fears of making the wrong choice.

warnings, fluff, angst, possible character death, au, slowish burn for Jordan n reader. pairings, Jordan Li x reaper!nameless oc x Marie Moreau. gif creds to ayoedebiris. idk how long this is, plus idk where this was going didn’t know how to end it, im not proud of it either but !

Jordan couldn’t imagine being in this current predicament. It was hazy, the memory they’re trying to remember, but there all the same. It was like trying to recall a word that’s at the tip of your tongue. A dull pain flashes through their skull, rendering them to keep in the same position they’re in since they’ve gained consciousness. The surface they were laying on was just right, it didn’t make them feel too cold or too hot. A significant temperature that almost seemed impossible to attain. Their eyes were slowly opening, blinking every 5 seconds to adjust to sudden bleak haze that managed to obscure her vision. For a second they thought they’ve lost their sight with how many times they’ve had to blink just to focus their eyes.

They took in their surroundings wondering just where they are and why it was so damn foggy. “What the fuck?” they whispered. Quickly feeling uneasy, Jordan switched to their masculine form, extending their hands out in defence in case anything jumped out to attack. “Hello?” their soft yet hoarse voice rang out into the empty open space. It almost looked like…God U almost, except it’s vacant and dismal. Something out of silent hill almost. He let their guard down, defensive hands lowering with a steady pace. As if something might go wrong if he made any sudden movements. No reply was given as they began to relax, big brown eyes scanning the place. Slow steps were being taken as Jordan’s cautiousness simmered, but only for a bit.

“Fuck me, fuck where the hell am I.” he breathed out, seeing the fog of his breath as they walked further on to campus. It wasn’t cold, but still seeing that made it all the more suspicious. Jordan couldn’t decipher where they were, just that a nagging memory was chipping away at a cement wall that was threatening to crack. His doe eyes laid upon the café of the university that many of the students frequent to. But, it wasn’t as warm looking as the original, Jordan denounced. They once again seamlessly switched back to her feminine form, feeling no immediate threat. Like they were safe here.

Carefully, Jordan made their up towards the entrance, seeing a few figures lingering by inside. She was just as confused as she was when they first appeared in this place. They stayed outside, hand slightly hovering over the door handle that seemed to be frozen over. And yet, they still weren’t cold. As she peered inside, the people (if you can consider them that?) seemed as though they had no care in the world. Most were drinking coffee and reading the newspaper, others were devouring pastries that even made Jordan’s stomach turn. She couldn’t fathom digesting something so confectionery.

“You planning on going inside or are you just gonna stand there?” Jordan swore they jumped 20 feet into the air at the sudden voice behind them. It was a vehement sound, sending chills through Jordan as she quickly turned around and shifted to their male form. “Who the hell are you?” He spoke, taking in the strangers appearance. For a minute there was a moment of familiarity, but Jordan has never seen you in his entire life before. So why did they feel so familiar? “I don’t think that’s really important now. You going in or what?”

Jordan didn’t know whether to defend themselves or walk into the café like nothing’s wrong. When everything is wrong because he doesn’t know where the fuck he is! “Where the hell am I?” He spat at her which didn’t seem to affect them at all. The stranger looked serene, as if they weren’t in a universe that held absolutely no one besides the few who look lost inside the café. “Well, that’s for you to decide. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have customers to attend to.” Moving out of Jordan’s way, you made your way inside leaving them more befuddled than when they came in. He turned around and followed your movements as you disappeared behind the counter.

Harbouring the feeling that there’s no immediate threat, Jordan shifts back to their female form, bracing themselves before walking inside of the rather vacant establishment. Jordan looked around at everyone she saw and concluded on one thing, they all looked content where they currently were. Which confused her to no end, how come no one was talking about how off everything is? But that also most of the people here were other Supes who she hasn’t seen since sophomore year. Supes she thought left and never returned.

“Would you like to order something while you wait?” The same voice rang through the otherwise desolate café. Jordan turned around with a bewildered expression on their face. Wait for what? “What do you mean?” Your hands settled on the counter. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“Well, yes! That tends to happen when you have no idea where you fucking are.”

You chuckled, turning around to grab a mug and begin brewing a concoction Jordan didn’t seem to keen on trying. It only took a few moments before she turned around again with a steaming cup of cappuccino. You pushed the cup towards Jordan, cocking your head to the side to show them where to sit. “I’ll be with you in a moment,” you summarised before turning your attention to someone standing behind Jordan. They turned around to see someone they never expected to lay eyes on again.

“Dusty?!”

“Hey, man. Long time no see.”

“Last time I saw you were burned to bits! How the fuck are you here?” Jordan followed his movements, moving to the side as he took ahold of the mug that was freshly brewed right after Jordan’s drink. How the fuck did you do that so fast? “Dude, I got sent here because I died. Seems like you’re in the same boat. Or close to it anyway.” He walked off, taking a seat near the window to look at god knows what considering there’s shit out there. Jordan looked back at the mug patiently waiting to be picked up and devoured. Then it hit them. “I’m fucking dead?” She whispered. “Yeah…you are.”

Jordan looked up, tears welling up in their eyes as they began to shake their head. “No, no, no, no. You’re lying. I didn’t fucking die. I’m alive. What the fuck. You’re fucking lying. Stop lying to me! Stop it! Stop fucking lying to me!” They yelled, immediately pushing forth energy blasts that would have knocked over the woman, but you were still standing, unmoving in her place behind the counter. Was that the memory that was trying to break through? Of them dying? How could they not know they were dead?

“Are you done?”

“What the fuck!”

“Take a seat, Jordan, drink this. And I’ll explain everything.” You said calmly. The way you spoke to them made the twisting and turning in their chest settle just a bit. How the fuck did she do that? Jordan picked up the cup, eyeing it with uncertainty. She took a deep breath, bringing the cup to her pink lips; one sip was all it took before they downed the entire thing. Jordan slammed the cup on the counter, sending the woman a scowl before making their way to the seat on the other side of the café next to the window.

You followed, sighing quietly. You always got people like this pass through, not ever knowing what happened to them or why they’re even there in the first place. It’s not unusual to see someone have a mental breakdown about finding out they’re in fucking limbo. “Tell me what the fuck is going on.” Jordan was angry and you can tell from the firmness of their voice to the furrowed eyebrows wrinkling up their delicate forehead. “Are you calm?”

“Listen–”

“I will not explain anything unless you calm down.” Jordan took a deep breath before slouching back into the booth seat. “Thank you. Now, it’s a good thing you know someone here or else this probably would’ve went a completely different way.” You laughed, quickly coming to a halt at the sight of their face. “Right, so. You’re Jordan Li. Indestructible. Invincible. And yet, here you are in limbo.”

“LIMBO?”

“You died, Jordan. It’s as simple as that. Well, you’re actually on the brink of death. No pun intended. Sorry about your mentor.”

“Thanks…I guess. Wait, what do you mean brink of death? I’m not dead yet?” Jordan couldn’t get a grasp on what was going on. All she knew was that she needed to get the hell out of there knowing she’s not fully dead yet. “Yes. Precisely. You have the opportunity to go back, to stay here or to just let it all go.”

“To go back?” You could tell Jordan was getting even more confused than they were before. “I–where,” Jordan could not form a proper sentence to respond to this new found information. “Do you know how I died?” You shake your head no. Jordan sighs, running their small hands over their face. “That answer doesn’t usually come to me, it’s more so of what your status is in regards to you know.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Well.”

“You’re not very good at explaining these things. And what the fuck even are you? Who are you?”

“People who usually end up in limbo have a choice to make. I gave you your options, now choose.” Jordan was at an impasse. Finding out you died was one thing, but finding out you have the choice to stay dead and move on or to go back was another. Jordan couldn’t even believe they were…would you call it dead? It didn’t seem real at all considering they’re indestructible. In their male form. Could they have been in their female form when their injuries turned worse for wear? Fuck, they got to get their memories back. It wasn’t like her at all to feel this way.

Jordan looked at you sitting in front of them, an emotionless expression on your soft features. She never got your name, they assumed it had to be something like the Ghastly Rider of the Lost Souls. Which brought her back to their original question, “What are you?” You just smiled at Jordan, folding your hands neatly on the table. “I’m someone you’ve seen, but never care to register. But if we’re being technical, I’m the bridge between your plane of existence and everything else after.”

You leaned forward, “What do you want, Jordan?” It was barely audible, but Jordan heard it all the same. The question seemed to hit a nerve that they never knew was there. What did they want? Why was this happening to them that brought her to this situation of deciding to leave those they love in despair or to live to fight another day? Or to stay in the in between of everything and find peace knowing they’ll watch others come and go. Why did it feel like the answer was right there but they could barely reach it yet? And what the fuck happened to have them end up here?

“Come. I want to show you something.” You extended out your hand as you rose from the seat, awaiting Jordan’s acceptance. And they knew now to not even fight it. She grabbed on to your hand and before they knew it they were before a pensive, unable to describe the rest of her surroundings. “Where–” Jordan began but stopped immediately after you let go of their hand. “If I hear you ask again where you are, I’ll make the decision for you, got it?” Your smile was sickeningly sweet, but daunting at the same time. Jordan decided not to speak unless spoken to.

The pensieve floated gracefully up until it reached just below their collarbones. Jordan was fascinated by the contraption, not knowing how to react to it. They’ve never seen anything like it and wondered exactly what it was the woman wanted to show them. It was glimmering light, the shine captivating that Jordan felt themselves leaning towards it involuntarily; the sudden pull coming from nowhere. Before they could get any further, a sharp push collided against their chest, causing them to shift to their male form.

“Wait.”

“What is that?” Jordan’s breathing became hoarse, staring at the object floating in front of them. “I don’t usually do this with those who pass through here. For some reason, it’s hard to get a reading on you. That doesn’t happen often, s’why I brought you here.” You raised your finger to tap the very centre of the pensieve, ripples of water wafting back at the both of you. “Since I don’t know what the fuck happened to you, I’m gonna allow Sabine to tell us both.”

“Sabine?” Jordan looked at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“It’s what I named her when I first got her. She’s nice, she won’t bite.” You smirked at him before grabbing ahold of their neck and plunging them into the water.

Another dreading morning means another early class Jordan regrets enrolling for. It wasn’t by choice either rather their only option and if it wasn’t a requirement, god he would’ve said fuck all. Leading a day after a treacherous event as if nothing’s wrong was one of the hardest things the Supe had to do. Losing a close friend was on a whole other level of trauma; witnessing people pretending to be upset about it was absolutely jarring. They weren’t actually feeling the pain that comes with loss. That empty, aching feeling in your chest that seemed to grow deeper with each passing day. The feeling of not knowing when it’s going to be okay again. Or if it gets easier to bear.

Grief looked different on everyone, so when they showed up to class that morning not seeing Cate in her usual seat it was understandable that the blonde wanted to take some time off. Jordan didn’t blame her.

They sat through class zoning in and out so much so that they didn’t even realise class was over. Everyone was packing up to leave when he suddenly got a text from Cate saying to meet her in her dorm. Jordan all but hauled ass to straight to her quarter on campus, not stopping for anyone along the way. With haste, he was at her door quickly switching to their female form as Cate swung the door open. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was heaving, but one thing that felt off besides those was that her smile. It was crazed almost.

Her pupils were blown wide, she grabbed ahold of Jordan’s arm and yanked her inside. “I’m so glad you’re here! You got here quick,” she breathed out, walking to stand in the middle of her dorm room, Jordan slowly approaching. “I mean…yeah. You said to come and with everything…”

“Yeah I know, but that’s not why I called you here.” Jordan was beginning to really notice Cate. She was dishevelled, clothes looked pulled at almost as if she was doing hard labour. Eyes erratic, breathing slightly heavy but it seemed to be calming down. “Is everything alright, Cate?” Jordan whispered as she stepped closer. She put her hands on Cate’s arms, gently stroking them as she looked at her with a sympathetic expression. It annoyed Cate to no end that she was being looked at like that, but there was no time to react to that right now.

“Yes, I’m fine. More than fine, actually…I need to tell you something,” she leaned closer to Jordan, grabbing ahold of their arms too squeezing gently. Jordan didn’t like how this was beginning to make her feel. She can’t remember the last time Cate almost fell off her hinges, but it for sure definitely happened. Luke was there to console her after they got caught up with something for Brink, but was immediately there after the fact. She can’t help but worry if Luke’s death was sending her through another spiral again.

“You have to promise me you can’t get mad.” That made Jordan’s heart drop. “What the fuck, Cate…”

“Promise me!”

Jordan hesitated before slowly nodding, “Yeah. I promise. Fuck.” Cate smiled once more and it made Jordan even more uneasy than they already were. She left go of Jordan, turning back in a hurry to grab her phone. She frantically typing away on the screen when she turned around, her breathing becoming erratic again. “Luke’s death was no accident. I’ve been trying to figure out exactly what could’ve made him do that, you know? It didn’t seem like him. To…to just kill himself. Not my Luke, you know?”

“Yes, I know.”

“Right. So, I did some digging and I found out that Brink’s death and Luke’s are connected. In fact, there’s even a witness. Fucking Marie Moreau. That freshman we hung out with, can you believe that?

“Anyway. Turns out his brother’s alive and they’ve kept Luke in the dark about it. He killed Brink because of this. Because they were torturing his brother…underneath this fucking school. He wasn’t the only one either. And Shetty’s…she’s behind all of this. Look, I got her to tell me everything,” she pulled up a video of Shetty confessing exactly everything she just told Jordan, they watching with horror, “She’s been experimenting on fucking Supes to figure out a way to kill us all, Jordan.

“But she’s not going to do that because I’m going to kill her and everyone else apart of this.” Cate put her phone away looking at Jordan as her eyes grew wider than they can possibly go. The blood around her cornea spread further, waiting expectantly for Jordan to agree with her so they can get this going. She was at a standstill, though. On one hand, she couldn’t let Cate commit mass murder but Shetty’s confession made them crossed of wanting to make them pay. But Jordan knew they couldn’t do that, especially risking the lives of innocents who could be caught in the crossfire.

Jordan shook her head, “No, Cate. I won’t let you do that. Are you fucking insane? Do you hear yourself, kill Shetty? We’d be no better than them.” Cate was not expecting that answer and the annoyance she felt from earlier slowly seeped back turning into anger. Her breathing became heavy again and she found herself reaching out to touch Jordan, but before she even had the chance an energy blast sent her flying hitting the window behind her and falling against the floor with a loud thud.

She groaned, making her way up from the ground, “Do not make me fight you, Cate.”

“I’m not making you do anything, I just want you to see reason! Why we need to stop them before they stop us!” She charged towards Jordan again before she shifted to his male form knocking her on the side of her head with his fist which sent her to the ground. Blood seeped from where the blow was met, but still she got up. All the commotion had the door bursting open, Marie on the other side. It caused Jordan to turn around giving Cate the distraction she desperately needed.

“Marie! She’s trying to–” Jordan couldn’t finish his sentence before he collapsed to the ground. The last thing he heard was a loud scream, from which girl they did know.

Jordan was thrown back from the pensieve, switching to their female form immediately. Their breathing was staggered, tears filling up their sockets as she looked over at you. “Did, what– what happened?” She spoke softly, the tears escaping as she shook their head. “I don’t…I don’t remember any of that. What Luke’s brother never died, what? What the fuck did you show me!”

“I only showed you what you refused to remember.”

“You fucking planted that in my head, you psycho–” Before Jordan could even finish their sentence, their mouths were sealed shut by you an evident frown slowly making its way on to your features. “You keep denying what’s right in front of you is only going to delay your decision, which will then be made for you.” You lowered your fingers which caused her mouth to unseal, small hands balling up into fists as Jordan steadied their breathing.

“So, what now? What does it mean?” You studied Jordan for a moment finally seeing and realising how vulnerable they are. You waved your hand nonchalantly, casting away the pensieve before you grabbed their hand again and within a blink of an eye, you both were back at the café. Dusty was gone Jordan noticed and it made her wonder did he move on? “It means you have a decision to make. Like I said, you either stay, let it go or move on.”

“What if I don’t know what to do?” Jordan said it so timidly it made your heart crack just a little. You never really got emotional over passers, most just being an afterthought, but Jordan…with Jordan it was different. You felt the need to hold their hand every step of the way.

“When you were conscious, on any general day, what did you feel like?”

It took a moment for Jordan to answer because she felt a lot of things. There was always a battle going on in their heads about anything and nothing. Jordan suffered from severe anxiety, but was able to mask it so well it became second nature. The question kept replaying in Jordan’s head, “I felt like I was going. Like auto pilot, prioritising things like rankings, engagement, and follows. Just overall exposure. To show that I’m the best.”

“To show you’re good enough?”

“Yes.”

You sighed, pulling Jordan to the seat you both preoccupied before this time sitting next to each other rather than across. Jordan was confused but let you manoeuvre them however way you wanted to. Sitting this close to you made Jordan realise that you carry a halo of comfort around you, no matter how snarky and pensive you can get. Always thinking but she assumed that was part of the job.

But, up close and personal it felt like a whole other reality. “I think your reason is because if you decide to go back, you’re not sure if you can come back from such a takedown as the one Cate gave you. And that’s understandable, I don’t think anyone can truly heal from that sort of trauma.

“You’re what, 180 when you’re a guy? Or does the weight just stay the same…” You extended your arms out to question with your shoulders raised slightly, head turned to a 40 degree angle with your eyes still on them. Jordan gave you a bored look with a slight head tilt.

“It stays the same!” You put your hands up in defence. “I understand.” Jordan shook her head, leaning back against the booth seat. She began looking worse for wear, the reality that they might never even come back is daunting on them slowly. And considering the idea of not returning was something on their mind, it scared them a little at just how much they actually loved life. You watched them with curious eyes as she remained silent. Like they were assessing everything over in their heads.

Jordan really want to think about this, but they felt like she didn’t have much time. “What if I go back and I can’t do anything about what’s happening? What if I can’t realise that there’s more taxing and important things going on besides whatever battle I created for myself in my head?”

“Jordan, you coming to the realisation alone should be enough of a push to be the person you actually want to be.” You placed your hand over theirs that was laid on top of the table. To you, Jordan felt warm and to Jordan, you felt cold, a comforting cold that helps you fall asleep easier in a dark room. She didn’t know how to feel about this, but she knew it wasn’t anything malicious or negative, but it was still strange. They didn’t move their hand away. “But what if it’s not enough? What if I’m too stubborn to realise that this isn’t something I want and I can do something–” Before Jordan could even finish the last sentence, you sealed their mouth shut once more.

Jordan sighed through their nose, irritated at being silenced again. But in this case, they understood after realising what they were saying. The constant what if’s is exactly why Jordan always felt the need to second guess themselves. No matter how sure of themselves they are, there was always a small voice in the deepest corner of their psyche, telling her the most obscene things. These are things that they began to believe over time. She never told anyone either. She always felt like they were alone.

Their mouth suddenly opened, you leaning back after looking at Jordan expectantly. “I get it now.” You let out a relief sigh, “I just…don’t want to do this alone. I don’t know what it’s going to be like if I do this alone.”

“You don’t have to do it alone if you don’t want to. You’ll have help. You’ll have someone there every step of the way. I know this.”

“How do you know?” Jordan looked at you, eyebrows raised in question. You sat unmoving, just blinking. It began to grow dark around the both of you, everything just fading away slowly. It brought Jordan unease, big brown eyes flittering around, heartbeat picking up. “What the fuck is happening?” She couldn’t see you clearly anymore, a silhouette in replacement of where your physical body used to be. Jordan began hyperventilating when they couldn’t see a thing anymore. “Hello! Fuck, can anyone hear me? Hello!”

The EKG began beeping rapidly, Marie already on high alert as she sat next to the bed that held a distraught Jordan. Their eyes were still closed but she could see their eyes moving vigorously underneath the lids. She leaned over, gently placing her hand on their arm, “Jordan…Jordan, hey. I’m here. It’s okay, I’m here,” she almost whispered, her hand stroking their arm. Jordan’s eyes opened frantically, jumping up from the laying position he was in turning every which way.

“Hey, you’re okay. You’re here. Thank god, you’re awake!” Marie exclaimed, practically jumping into Jordan’s arms. The door burst open and in came the doctor that was assigned to Jordan. “You’re awake!”

“He’s awake,” Marie couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “What…what happened?” The doctor walked over to the other side of Jordan’s bed, examining his vitals as he began to explain. “You were in a coma for three weeks, Mr Li. We weren’t sure how long it’ll be before you awoke again.” The length of time shocked Jordan to their very core. How has it been three weeks? All that transpired three weeks ago and it felt like it happened in a matter of seconds. Jordan was in disbelief, he couldn’t fathom this from any point in time. His eyes flittered to Marie’s wide ones, her hand grasping theirs as she squeezed it gently. He squeezed it back. “We’ll have to keep for the next two days to monitor your progress, but everything here looks good. Just remember to stay hydrated after you’re discharged.”

Jordan nodded at the words, but didn’t bother taking any of it in. Three weeks? Three fucking weeks and it felt like you and them were just together for mere minutes. It all came flooding back to him in no time and he looked at Marie again, mouth open but nothing coming out. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything what you went through was tough. Cate’s…she’s under surveillance. If you could even call it that. But she’s not coming around any time soon.”

“What happened while I was out?” Marie sighed at the question. She didn’t exactly know how to explain it. Cate didn’t receive any sort of repercussions. After she terrorised the school, she went after Supes who didn’t agree with her and that’s when they began taking everything seriously. Andre was killed (by his own power no less), Sam was captured alongside Cate but were sent to different correctional facilities as to prevent any tyranny. Government involvement meant there were restrictions cracked down on Supes who were and weren’t apart of the sudden uprising.

There was so much more and Marie didn’t even know where to start. “It’s a lot, Jordan.”

Jordan was released two days later, Marie at her side as they walked towards the car waiting for the both of them. They were healed, physically, but mentally…Jordan just wondered what got them back here in the first place. She doesn’t exactly remember making a decision and it wasn’t something she was willing to discuss with Marie just yet. Marie eyed Jordan with worry, she knew something was off by their body language but didn’t want to intrude. It was killing her not to say anything, but knowing Jordan she’ll come around eventually.

“Finally! The comatose vegetable is ripe!”

“Emma, what?”

“I don’t know. I just missed you, Jordy,” the smaller girl’s voice pitched up a bit as she wrapped her arms around Jordan’s torso, squeezing with all her might to convey the amount of yearning Emma had for her presence. The two grew closer from their first meeting to now and Jordan couldn’t help but feel their heart grow in size at Emma’s affection. “I missed you too, Little Cricket.” The hug was cut after she had said that. If looks could kill, Jordan would be dead…again?

They were all about to pile in the car, a conversation being had between Marie and Emma as she hopped into the drivers seat. Jordan turned their head up becoming immediately frigid at the sight in front of her. She didn’t even know you were fucking real, let alone existed on this plane of reality? Is that what you call it? Their name was faintly being called but that was a mile away, she didn’t even feel her feet move until she stood in front of you.

“It’s you. It’s fucking you,” they started before continuing. “What the fuck are you doing here?” You shut the car door, the locking sound engaging. “I’m visiting my grandmot–”

“No, I mean here. This plane of existence. In my world. I thought you were a fucking bridge or something.” Jordan was intimidated by your demeanour, the lean against the car, the foot over the other and you looked calm as ever. Just like limbo and it pissed Jordan off to no end. “I also said I was someone you don’t even pay attention to.” The softened expression on Jordan’s face matched how they felt. They completely mistook what was said at your first meeting and it didn’t even occur to Jordan that you meant face to face. In real time. In reality.

“Who the fuck are they talking to?”

“Beats me.”

“They don’t look a little familiar to you?” Marie shook her head, tilting it a bit before she carried herself over to them. Not that it mattered. Jordan could talk to anyone they wanted, right? They weren’t exclusive or anything. “That’s your Supe power? That’s what Compound V fucking gave you?” Jordan sounded incredulous at your confession just as Marie joined the two of you. As soon as your eyes landed on Marie, your throat felt tight along with your chest. Were you not breathing? “Hey…what’s going on here?”

“I’ll explain later…” Jordan trailed off just as you spoke up and introduced yourself. Marie nodded her head, the usually perplexed expression on her soft features. You couldn’t take your eyes off her, but you didn’t want to make it noticeable. She’ll probably think you’re a loser. “Nice to meet you, I’m Marie,” it grew silent after she answered. And Jordan couldn’t clenched their fist trying to figure out how to get out of this. “I don’t wanna keep you, we should go. I have to rest anyway, you know being in a coma for three weeks can drain the fuck out of you.”

Jordan’s incisiveness threw Marie for a loop and she was confused on the fact on how Jordan knew you. Her arm was being pulled away as Jordan was in front of her before stopping abruptly. “You go on ahead, actually, I think they have something of mine I’m just gonna, yeah,”

“How do you know them, Jordan?”

“I’ll be with you in a sec!” She exclaimed, shoving Marie forward, her expression apologetic. Once Marie was out earshot, Jordan turned back around to you still standing there, eyebrows raised in question. “When you said I wasn’t going to be alone…did you mean…”

“You have a support system, Jordan. And if your friends allow it, I can definitely be apart of that.” Although it was going to be a tough road and it’s going to take some getting used to, everything being different for Supes, Jordan knew it was going to be trial and error. But as long as they had you and the others, they knew they’d be fine. It’s just going to take a bit of convincing for Emma and Marie to warm up to you, especially Marie. You lot had a lot of work cut out for you, but Jordan knew there wasn’t failure for them in the future.

#jordan li #gen v #gen v fic #jordan li x reader #jordan li x gn!reader #marie moreau x reader #mariejordan #jordanmarie #limoreau x reader #marie moreau x gn!reader #limoreau

127 notes · View notes

osmanthus-wine-addiction · 2 months

Text

Zhongli is my comfort blanket. I just can't imagine this character treat me badly and hurt me, but I can 100% imagine reader being yandere towards them.

You absolutely loathed to hurt him in any way. He was the sun in your sky, the dazzling gem you traded your soul for. It was only expected for him to cherish you, treasure you in that same way. He always looked at you so apprehensively, like he could read your mind.

You promised to never hurt the innocent people of Liyue, even if they were terrified of you and trembled in fear whenever you stood beside him. You and Morax once had a contract. That was, until he chose to break it. Did he truly not have a choice? Were you the lesser of two evils, so he could only disappoint you? It doesn't make the sting of betrayal any more bearable.

From the moment you laid eyes on him, your devotion to him was unshakable. You could die for him. You could denounce the world and forsake all your kin for him. Yet he chose to forsake you.

You were completely justified in chaining him up like this. He looked so hopeless, so infuriatingly submissive in these pretty chains. His once-flawless body was covered in bruises and gashes, drizzled in shimmering gold like some sadistic piece of art. Not a patch of ummarred skin could be found, save for the area around his once-striking eyes. They were no longer the brilliant gems you coveted, but dull and lifeless rocks.

Maybe he feels remorse, maybe he doesn't. It doesn't matter anymore. Because he's the god of contracts, he willingly allowed himself to be sealed away and be subjected to your torture. Every second of everyday, you wouldn't fail to remind him that he had made the wrong choice. You were different from Morax. He honored his contracts because he had to. You honored your contracts to him because you wanted to. That was simply no longer the case. He needed only to stab you in the back once for you to stab him a thousand times. You would have him watch what he chose over you crumble into sand and fall apart over and over, until the day your wrath finally subsides.

#zhongli x reader #zhongli fanfic #genshin zhongli #morax #zhongli x you #yandere reader #This sounds like Azhdaha #The betrayal is up to interpretation

62 notes · View notes

huramuna · 3 months

Text

wine red, tears gold - chapter 7, end.

king aegon II x baratheon ofc

previous chapter | next

this is the end! i know i said 2 more chapters after the last, but i really couldn't stretch this into two without losing -- it is hopefully a good ending and does justice for both lyanna and aegon. only one song choice for this chapter as i feel like it encapsulates their relationship to a tee and i've been waiting to use it. even if it isn't you type of music, i'd really recommend reading the lyrics to see what i mean! thank you for following along on this journey with me, this was my first time writing aegon and again, i hope i've done him justice. i enjoyed exploring his complex character immensely and i hope you all enjoyed reading him. enjoy. ❤️ please feel free to leave any aegon requests in my inbox, this won't be the last time i write him, i promise!

word count: 2.7k

please follow & turn on notifs for @huramuna-fics for my fic postings.

content: smut (specifics below cut), canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, angst, fluff, arranged marriage, touch-staved aegon, aegon isn't a r*pist in this au but he is still a bad person and has his vices, ofc and aegon need to go to therapy together, justice for jaehaera, awkward sex, kind of a slow burn, infidelity, child loss

one day the only butterflies left will be in your chest as you march towards your death - bring me the horizon & amy lee

warnings: p in v

There were few things Lyanna really preferred about King’s Landing over Storm’s End– it smelled of shit and was riddled with vipers, whereas Storm’s End was full of boarish, thick skulled men with blades in place of their brains, less akin to use diplomacy to settle matters but rather their axes.

King’s Landing diplomacy was the same in a way, except without axes and with barbed tongues, dripping venom behind each carefully placed word. It was a task in itself to keep sane with the amount of people who tried to get something from her– kissing her hands, sending her beautiful dresses, exotic fruits and honeyed words.

‘Sign this, your grace.’

‘May I possibly have this, your grace.’

‘In exchange, your grace, please, provide us this.’

It was tiring. Soul suckingly so. Some days she felt akin to a lemon with its juices sucked out, nothing left but the skin and seeds and pulp, rotting in the sun. But, she supposed, there was one thing she did like about King’s Landing.

The sun.

It was resplendent here, unyielding in its warmth and caress over the gentle waves of the bay, orange and yellow tinge lighting up the horizon. She awoke in the morn, scantily clad, walking to her open balcony– but not quite walking out onto the landing– and basking in the sun like a fat cat, moving with the sun as it made its journey over the sky.

Sometimes Aegon was there, too, following along at her heels like a lost puppy. It was the norm nowadays, over eleven moons since her miscarriage, since Aegon’s confession, since his will to turn over a new leaf. Where Lyanna went, Aegon followed. She held him like a child each night, and they would curl into one another– but they had yet to couple since the miscarriage, both of them maintaining a dry spell for the better part of a year.

It was a test, in a way, for Aegon. He had denounced spirits and whores and all manner of sinful things, hardly gracing his own chambers anymore, preferring Lyanna’s. But, Aegon was a creature of habit, and always needed something to have, to obsess over as his own. Lyanna was part of that thing, but she kept him at an arm’s length emotionally, partaking in only the need for closeness with him in their bed, skin to skin– but never anything beyond it. Soft caresses, arms held together, one tucked into the other. They didn’t exchange many words during these times, only gentle sighs and hums of contentment, or nudges of discomfort if one’s elbow was poking into the other’s ribs.

The other thing Aegon had succumbed to was food– he replaced his daily intake of alcohol with food, and filled out quite nicely in turn. Before, he’d been a scrawny thing, the bulk of his daily caloric intake being just alcohol, and the calories burned off in succession with his rigorous trips to the brothel. But now, he ate three meals, each of them with Lyanna, except for breakfast. Breakfast was still reserved only for Alicent, Lyanna and Jaehaera– Aegon would eat in solitude quickly and wait outside of Alicent’s solar, waiting for Lyanna. Where he had shown ribs before, he had gained some mass, filling in his clothes.

Lyanna quite liked him this way, soft and plush– he was nice to lay upon.

She knew that he still had needs, as a man, and the time he’d gone without a woman, only using his own fist for pleasure, was certainly long. She was proud of him, in a way, that he overcame his baser instincts to try and better himself.

But, she felt guilty as well. He would try to make advances, of course, a gentle touch to her bare thigh, a kiss to her neck, an accidental brush to her nipple– all ways that were increasingly enticing for her. She just wasn’t ready, and she made him know that and respect it.

This usually ended in him sulking to the privy with his tail between his legs, more likely than not to take himself in his fist.

And so it was, for those months. But a whole year passed since Aeron’s passing– the winds were changing.

–

“The council meeting is adjourned, unless anyone has anything to say otherwise.” Lyanna spoke, adjusting her rings absentmindedly.

Otto Hightower spoke up, clearing his throat. His hair had gone gray in the year’s time, and he was getting on in age– the war in previous years had taken its toll on every surviving member of the family in their own ways, and Otto had been the most adept at hiding it, until it became too much to hide. The previous week, he had been walking the corridors at an ungodly hour, looking for Helaena. His mind was turning against him. “The matter… of succession, your grace. The king should name his heir sooner than later, little Jaehaerys is nearing ten years of age, and is unbetrothed. Mayhaps… we should propose a betrothal to Rhaenyra’s daughter, Visenya.”

The council looked at Otto, their eyes wide. No one breathed, nor said a word; they didn’t know how to deal with such a thing, as Otto was usually the one who dealt with it– his mind, once as sharp as a whip, was now a dulled leather belt.

Lyanna glanced at Aegon nervously, who sat up in his chair at the mention of Jaehaerys. “Grandsire,” he began, “That is… a splendid idea. I shall send a raven on the morrow to Rhaenyra upon Dragonstone.”

Otto, in his addled wits, had become fond of Aegon. The old man smiled, nodding. “Good, my boy. Very good. I have no more contestment– I do believe it’s high noon, Aemond and Ser Cole will be in the training yard, so I must depart.”

Lyanna frowned, watching as Otto left. In a way, she felt him losing his mind was a fitting punishment for his culpability in the war. And yet, it pained her to see him so… lost. Like a kite with no strings, floating upon the breeze until it inevitably hits the ground.

As Otto left, one of the other lords spoke up. “The Hand… does bring a good point, your grace. The matter of succession is still undecided. The… tragedy of the first babe leaves the realm waiting.”

Lyanna opened her mouth to speak, but Aegon cut her off, leaning forward in his chair. His hair had grown much longer now, past his shoulders in white curls, moving with him as he steepled his hands on the table. “The first babe has a name, Lord Wylde. Aeron, is his name, and you shall address my son as such when speaking of him,” he snapped. “The queen is still recovering from the traumatic ordeal of his birth, and we shall give her the time that she needs. Anyone who speaks a word more of succession shall lose their tongue. My patience for this council’s schemes has ran out. Consider this the only warning.” Aegon pushed off from his chair, snatching his Sunfyre colored ball and stashing it in his pocket. “Council dismissed.”

Lyanna watched as the lords rushed out of the room hurriedly, each one bowing their head in subservience to the King and Queen. Soon enough, it was just the two of them left. She didn’t speak a word, watching as Aegon paced, his hand twitching. He glanced at Lyanna a few times before walking to her and pulling out her chair. “My lady,” he muttered, his voice somewhat faraway.

She straightened out her dress, standing up. “Thank you,” she responded, looking up at him. His face was much clearer now, not addled by dark circles under his eyes, nor the constant blush of intoxication. But his eyes themselves were still tired, still haunted. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, reaching out her hand to grasp his. “For dispatching Lord Wylde.”

Aegon huffed, squeezing his wife’s hand. “I wish they would give it up– as if this whole situation wasn’t the cause of the war in the first place. Blind fucking idiots,” he grumbled, a calloused thumb wafting over her palm. In lieu of going to the brothels, he often would take out Sunfyre for flights, sometimes up to three or four times a day, his hands calloused and blistered from climbing up and down the saddle.

Lyanna inspected his hand, delicate finger tracing over the blisters– some fresh. “You must wear gloves, Aegon,” she chastised softly, “Your hands have become so rough.”

“I don’t like gloves, you know that,” he snorted. “They ruin the experience, can’t reach out and touch my boy’s scales, really feel them, with gloves on, now can I?”

Rolling her eyes, she dropped Aegon’s hand from her own. “I suppose not,” she contended, leaning back against the council table. She looked him up and down, her heart still feeling a bit tender from how gallantly he came to Aeron’s defense. The sun shined from the open balcony windows, illuminating his longer curls, and the rubies upon the Conqueror’s crown. His figure was solid, casting a shadow that could only be described as kingly. Lyanna blinked profusely, feeling a long locked away sensation bubble in her stomach, a heat coming to her face.

“What?” he asked, staring right at her. He had become so attuned to her, as they practically were fused to the hip at every waking moment.

“N-nothing,” she murmured, looking away. If he looked into her eyes, he would see exactly what she was feeling. Desire.

He stepped forward, a hand under her chin as he tipped her head up to face him. Their gazes locked and it only took a moment for him to flash her that dazzling, aggravating, lovely smile. “Do you like my hands soft?”

“... yes.”

His calloused palm rested completely under her jaw now, thumb and forefinger encapsulating her as he tried to eke out the secret she was hiding. “Why is that?”

“Aegon– don’t tease me.” she mumbled, eyes darting everywhere but upon his face.

“I’m not teasing, merely asking,” he got closer, the smug aura bleeding off of him like a sickly perfume. “Why so bashful, my queen?”

She felt her heart in her throat at their close proximity. They were close at night, even closer than this, but the energy charged around them was… different. It was something that they hadn’t experienced in a long time. Her mind went to how rough their last time had been together, how he fucked her like he hated her, like he hated himself– she didn’t want that now. She wanted… something different. She had to take control now and reel him in, if this was truly going to happen. “You’re teasing,” Lyanna hummed, the mood shifting as she leaned forward, grasping him by the collar of his doublet and pulling him to her. Her knee rested upon his clothed crotch in a testing manner. “Or, am I?”

His entire demeanor changed then, his hand falling from her jaw to rest on her arm. His hunched shoulders slumped as he pressed into her knee, his arousal becoming quite clear. “Y-you are,” he whispered, “my queen.” Aegon’s lip pouted slightly.

Pulling him downward then, their lips met for the first time in almost a year. It wasn’t aggressive or dominant like before– it was slow and meticulous, as if they were getting used to one another again. He tasted like orange, which he had been snacking on before the meeting. She tasted like lavender tea… it was all so familiar, yet distant. Lyanna’s idea of control slowly faded as they both surrendered to one another, tongues tasting and dancing as if they had all of the time in the world. They were both at each other’s mercy, both gentle as they undressed each other– as much as they could in the council room, anyhow. Lyanna unbuckled his trousers, sliding them down and grabbing a handful of his bottom, which was fleshy and pert now. His hands pulled down her bodice and squeezed at her breasts softly, rolling a nipple between his middle and forefinger.

It didn’t take much time for Aegon to ruck up her skirts and sink himself into her, slowly. Their mouths parted, still ghosting over one another as they drank in moans and whimpers as he bottomed out. It was still a tight squeeze and a wonderfully intense stretch. They didn’t need to speak, they didn’t want to– both were enjoying one another’s noises; Aegon’s heavy panting, coupled with Lyanna’s breathy moans into his ear.

They found solace and comfort, truly, for the first time in their marriage. It wasn’t fucking out of duty, nor jealousy, nor hatred. It was… love. It was because they wanted to, because they both wanted one another.

Because they both loved each other.

They’d never said it before, but the inkling of it had begun a few months before. Lyanna’s heart clenched as she stared into Aegon’s eyes, wide and violet, so full of devotion as he thrusted into her. It was on the precipice of both of their tongues– something that would change everything.

“I love you,” Lyanna whispered.

“I love you,” Aegon responded.

It wasn’t a perfect relationship by any means, and was difficult at best. They could never fix each other’s scars, never mend the broken, never resurrect the dead– but, in that moment, as they truly made love for the first time, it became more bearable.

Isn’t that all that anyone could ask for?

–

Another two years in Westeros passed. The sun was still shining brightly over the horizon, pouring through the glass windows atop the throne room. Hundreds were gathered in the masses from all over the continent.

Otto had stepped down as Hand and taken a backseat to politics– he wasn’t in the present at all any longer, muttering of the past and beyond, and stayed near his daughter in a wheeled chair, blanket over his legs.

Alicent had trimmed her hair short and stopped wearing green, rather, matching Lyanna’s choices of gold and white.

Jaehaera stood next to her father, dressed in blue and white, like her mother always wore.

Aegon didn’t sit on the throne, but stood in front of it, hand on the small of Lyanna’s back.

Lyanna pressed close to Aegon and Jaehaera, holding a babbling one year old upon her hip with one arm. A son– named Rhaenor, who had a head of white curls, and deep brown eyes. Her other hand was caressed on her stomach, which was swollen once again with child.

“I’d like to thank you all for gathering here today,” Aegon started, his voice booming through the throne room, silencing any chatter. “There has been some speculation on when the queen and I would formally name our heir. I won’t keep the realm waiting any longer. I, Aegon of House Targaryen, second of my name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm– formally name my heir,” he paused for a moment, ever basking in the moment. “Jaehaera Targaryen will succeed me as the ruler of the realm.”

There were whispers in the crowd but they were once again silenced. “We shall not repeat the errors of the past. My word and decree now is just and binding, not to be rescinded. My son, Rhaenor, will not succeed me, nor any other sons or children of mine. Jaehaera Targaryen is my heir.”

–

Jaehaera Targaryen succeeded Aegon Targaryen, second of his name, after he abdicated the crown at age sixty-two, focusing on helping dragons make a return after the near decimation of them from the Dance. He, with the help of his son Rhaenor, hatched five dragon eggs upon the Dragonmount, saving them from near extinction.

Aegon passed in his sleep at age eighty-five, surrounded by his five children and dozen grandchildren, as well as his fiercely loyal wife, Lyanna.

Lyanna passed one moon after Aegon.

Her dreams became real– she was young again, toes dipped in the pond with Aeron next to her, and Aegon next to him.

A few more figures approached from the darkness near the edges of the pond, white haired and violet eyed.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon ii targaryen angst #aegon ii targaryen fluff #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii #aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #my writing #wine red tears gold

118 notes · View notes

jovialmoonprincess · 4 months

Text

AU: Journey to Redemption (Part 7)

Loving him was Red

Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader

First Part. / The Winter Ball / Champagne Problems / Frost and Thorns / The Storm Within / In Silence, We Crumble / Loving him was Red

Summary: Y/N meets the mysterious woman again and ends up accepting a proposal from Coryo.

Warning(s): None, enemy to lovers, back in time, destiny, Snow being in love, Snow being Snow, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Y/N was so hurried that, upon getting off the train, she barely noticed the mysterious woman waiting for her at the station.

"Y/N," the woman called, and she recognized her instantly.

"Sorry?" The woman's appearance, deeply engraved in her mind, evoked recent memories.

"How are you?"

"I have so many questions," Y/N said as she approached the woman, somewhat desperate. This month had been the most confusing of her life.

"I know, dear. Come with me." The woman guided Y/N to the quieter part of the station. "You can ask."

They sat close. Y/N wanted to know many things: the woman's name, if she was from the future or the present, what her future would be like, among others.

"Am I doing something right? Has anything really changed?" She didn't know if the woman could know that, but it was the question that tormented her the most. And it didn't seem like the woman would stay for long.

"Y/N, everything has changed since the moment we first saw each other." The vague answer didn't please Y/N. The woman noticed the girl's confused expression and added, "Everything I showed you happened over and over again. I know it by heart." The woman spoke as if it were something tiresome for her to repeat.

"Coriolanus wins the Games. He's intelligent and cunning. But the real game begins when he is sent to District 12 as a Peacekeeper. He tries to create a new life, a new image, but the past cannot be erased." The vision of Coriolanus shooting the birds resurfaced in Y/N's mind. She remained silent, allowing the woman to continue.

"He gets involved with Lucy Gray. A romance that seems destined, but things fall apart when Lucy discovers Coriolanus's role in the death of Sejanus Plinth, her best friend. Unknowingly, he sealed Sejanus's fate by denouncing him to the Capitol."

Y/N swallowed hard, feeling the weight of betrayal and tragedy. "He… he betrays his own friend?"

The woman nodded with regret. "Coriolanus's past haunts him, and Sejanus's shadow hangs over him. Lucy Gray, discovering the truth, can't overcome the betrayal. Their relationship crumbles, leaving Coriolanus with the weight of his choices."

Y/N was immersed in dark thoughts. "This is horrible. He condemned his own friend to death?"

"The line between ally and enemy, loyalty and betrayal, is thin in the Hunger Games and in the Capitol. Coriolanus, in his quest for survival, will pay a high price. But you, Y/N, have a role to play in all of this." Y/N's eyes widened in surprise.

The woman smiled enigmatically. "The future is woven by many threads, and each choice, each action, creates a new plot. You have the power to change things, to influence events. The question is: what will you do with this information?" Y/N felt a knot forming in her stomach. Faced with a crossroads, she understood that the choices she made would shape not only the destiny of Coriolanus Snow but also her own.

"I…" she murmured, "I don't know."

The woman reached out, gently touching Y/N's shoulder. "The answers will unfold at the right moment. Keep in mind that life is not just a dichotomy between black and white; it moves in shades of gray, where true choices manifest. Trust your intuition and strengthen yourself. When the boy is close, you will need to take a firm stand, without concessions. Treat him as the antagonist that destiny will turn him into. Don't tolerate his selfish actions, but also avoid closing the doors to the possibility of understanding. Find the balance between assertiveness and discernment, as it is in that space that true influences will shape the course of events."

Y/N involuntarily closed her eyes, and when she opened them, the woman was no longer there. Leaving Y/N alone with her reflections and the weight of the revelations she carried. The destiny, now, was more intertwined than ever, and Y/N felt the urgency to make decisions that could alter the course of events.

She then thought about what the woman said, about what ended Coryo and Lucy Gray's relationship. If she could prevent Coriolanus from betraying Sejanus, that could change everything. However, she wondered how she could achieve such a feat. She wouldn't have the possibility to follow him to the District after the Games. She needed to find a way to influence him before, to the point where, in addition to questioning the idea, he would choose not to betray Sejanus.

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

Y/N woke up in her bed as usual, the events lingering in her mind like an enigmatic dream. She got up, changed her clothes, and noticed her nightstand. There was a glass of water with the two roses she had taken from the boy. She followed her morning routine and hurried out of her apartment towards the block of classrooms.

After class, she went straight to the study room, where she found only a blond boy sitting at one of the tables. She thought about leaving as quickly as possible, but he was already standing, calling her.

"Y/N!" The blond exclaimed, interrupting her.

Y/N didn't need to talk to him now; she wanted some time to think. Besides, she had slept very poorly that night.

"I need to talk to you." Oh, now he wanted to talk? A wave of nervousness washed over the girl. Did each of his calls demand an immediate response, as if ignoring them could unleash disastrous consequences? Her patience was about to run out, but if there was a chance to help the boy, it would be on her terms, staying true to herself. She decided to ignore the calls.

Coriolanus was faster, grabbing her arm, making her turn involuntarily. For a moment, she forgot that one step of the boy was equivalent to three of hers.

"I wanted to apologize," he said, like an orphaned puppy in a pet shop wanting to be adopted. Too bad because Y/N didn't believe.

"Do you think words fix everything, don't you? You can hit someone, then just do your tricks, flip your hair, and it's over?" She gestured while venting. "I don't believe in any word that comes out of your mouth, Coriolanus. You lie. You deceive. How can you? Talking about the districts, criticizing their way of dealing with grief." She seemed genuinely hurt by this.

"I know, I know, and I've reflected a lot on it since that day. I was wrong."

"There should be a District 14 just for people like you, shallow and soulless." Y/N's voice was full of provocation. "You and Clemensia can be mayor and first lady there, what do you think?" The boy just laughed. Wouldn't the Capitol be that place?

"How did you know? I'm here in person to invite you to be my first lady." The boy approached dangerously with a smile on his face.

"Well, I refuse. We don't make a beautiful couple," the girl teased. This made the boy approach even more, placing a hand on her waist and pulling her closer.

"Unfortunately, I have to disagree with you," he replied quietly, his voice raspier than usual, staring at her rosy lips without disguising it. Y/N's breath was already uneven.

"Sorry for my harsh words. I don't expect you to forgive me immediately, but I ask you to pay more attention to my actions from now on. Because it will be through them that I will redeem myself."

"Let's see," the girl replied. Now it was the boy's turn to put a rose behind her ear. Another one for his collection of roses in her apartment. One thing caught her attention: the rose in her hair was red. Could she see it in her peripheral vision?

"Red?" Snow's roses were always white. Y/N raised an eyebrow, surprised by Coriolanus's gesture. There was something different in the boy's expression, a sincerity she had never seen before. Perhaps, just perhaps, he was trying to change.

"I thought it would suit you better," he said. She really wanted to believe that the boy had gone up to the rooftop and chosen a special rose to give to the girl. But it was very hard to believe. What color would he give to Lucy Gray? The girl stepped back suddenly. "I wanted it to be different this time," Coriolanus admitted, his serious gaze meeting hers. "Snow's roses are white, but… I thought maybe it was time to change."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, surprised by the explanation. Coriolanus Snow, the boy she knew, was defying family traditions. Was this a genuine sign of change?

"Coryo, I know you had just come from the arena. It was very difficult. But you didn't lie. You said something that was really inside you. And that's what scares me the most." Coryo didn't know how to respond; he wanted her to believe him. He wanted to retort, speak, shout, anything that would make the girl stay there, but Y/N had already moved away and continued toward the exit.

Coriolanus watched Y/N walk away, feeling the weight of her words and the complexity of the emotions the girl carried. A sudden impulse made him follow her, determined to defy expectations. "Wait, Y/N," he called, "I know words alone don't change the past, but I'm willing to prove that actions speak louder. Accept this: one night, where I can show you that I'm not just empty words."

He seemed really desperate.

"Okay," was all the girl said.

"Saturday night, I'll pick you up at 7 pm."

_______________________

Sorry for the delay, these days have been very busy for me. I had a huge creative block. This chapter is more for contextualization but the next one will have a lot of emotion and fluff <3

Taglist: @shari-berri @h-l-vlovesvintage @tea-bobba @daenerysqueenofhearts @commanderfreethatdust @glxzillx @write-from-the-heart @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @junipercloud03 @larissareadings @qardasngan

If you want to be friends with me on Instagram, click here.

#the hunger games #tbosas #angst #angst with a happy ending #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #enemy to lovers #fem reader #president snow #tom blyth #coryo snow #lucy gray baird #tbosbas #ballad of songbirds and snakes #josh andres rivera #snow #tigris snow

66 notes · View notes

fancifulplaguerat · 9 months

Text

Time to put Daniil back on the vivisection table because I am not done with him. I’ve been thinking recently about Daniil’s reaction to Aglaya’s ‘betrayal,’ because honestly I feel like people don’t talk enough about how much it affects him, or how much it influences his decision in the Cathedral. When I finished the Haruspex Route, I was kind of surprised by how central Aglaya’s death was to Daniil’s arguments in favor of the utopian ending—when Daniil tries to convince Artemy to save the Polyhedron, one of his main points is that in doing so, Aglaya will die. I also remember being struck on Day 12 of the Bachelor Route by that lengthy dialogue with Artemy, where he defends Aglaya and Daniil insists upon her betrayal. In the Bachelor Route, this breach of Daniil’s trust is a fundamental aspect of what informs his final decision, and is arguably centred more than the Polyhedron or Kains’ miracles.

This makes sense to me, because I don’t think Daniil has such a strong reaction to anything else in Patho, not even Simon’s death—even though there’s much customary Dankovsky rage in his reaction, it seems underlined by genuine hurt. For instance, when he asks, “Aglaya, how could you do this? This is an honest to God betrayal. I trusted you...” It even feels a little childish, for want of a better word, how he says “I don’t want to talk to you. I despise you.” It’s also ridiculously hypocritical how he lashes out at Aglaya, telling her that revenge is a poor companion for someone like her, while simultaneously saying shit like “I do not want to take revenge on the Powers That Be anymore. I want to take revenge on you, Aglaya,” or “Watch me sign your death sentence.”

Returning to that dialogue with Artemy, I enjoy how his defense of Aglaya sort of picks apart this reaction:

Haruspex: You're just holding a grudge, oynon, nothing more. You only feel betrayed because you've entrusted yourself to her—but that was your own choice. It's unwise to brand someone a savior beforehand and then denounce them when they fail to live up to your expectations—even though they didn't know you had them.

> She knew. That's the difference. She knew and exploited my hopes.

[...]

Haruspex: The feeling that hinders you now is rage, oynon. You feel deceived because you put too much hope in those who have been guiding you all this time. Consider the fact that Aglaya has been guiding you according to her own truth. She is a servant of the Law.

> It doesn't matter—she has deceived and betrayed me. She treated me like a pawn, and I won't ever forgive her for that.

I feel Aremy’s emphasis on how Daniil feels hurt because he put too much hope and trust in Aglaya gestures to that Daniil seems pretty trusting by nature. I think how he acts in the Haruspex Route in particular suggests that he might not give out his trust completely right away, but he still strikes me as quite a social and collaborative person, despite everything. Just in how he quickly refers to Aglaya and Block as his best friends, or works amicably with Rubin and Artemy, or refers to his relationship with characters like Saburov as friendship, rather than an alliance or something similar. And it seems that Daniil truly did trust Aglaya, because when Clara first tells him about her plot, he shoots back, “You liar. Aglaya is my best friend and the most reliable ally I have.” So again, I think there’s an undertone of personal hurt here that goes beyond anger at being a pawn or made to tell lies (though in my opinion, they weren’t *really* lies).

In this vein, I want to mention that Daniil already seems to associate lies with deception and a breach of trust, given this dialogue:

Herb Bride: Do you really never tell lies?

> I hate lies.

> Nothing is more villainous than deceit.*

Herb Bride: Why? I didn't say 'deceit'. Telling a lie doesn't equal deceit.

> All my life those who pretended that black was white prohibited me from winning. Every deceit hides someone's dark intentions.

Herb Bride: What makes you think they have to be dark?

> Because they replace the true state of affairs with a false one to profit from someone else's suffering.

> It's in their nature.

The exchange provides some interesting insight into why Daniil despises lies so much—they have been used to fool him before, and prevented him from accomplishing his goals. I doubt this is his singular reason, but he seems to see lies as inherently manipulative and exploitative, which probably added salt to wound in the Aglaya situation. Daniil likely assumed that she had the worst intentions and took it as a personal attack against his victory, when really, Aglaya’s deceit was in their mutual interest in terms of getting back at The Powers That Be. After all, they wanted the Town unchanged, so to destroy part of it would indeed allow Daniil and Aglaya revenge.

A final thing I want to mention is in an opening dialogue, when an Executor tells Daniil that “He who trusts everyone is asking to be deceived.” One of Daniil’s replies is, “Yet he who trusts no one is deluded. I know that from experience.” Which potentially makes this even more depressing, if Daniil was previously rather guarded. I could see how Daniil could fall into considering himself his only ally, as he has rather outlandish goals that many people likely wouldn’t take seriously. Or perhaps it was from a place of ‘I know better than everyone else,’ which drove him to not take others seriously. Either way, the dialogue implies that Daniil was initially not as trusting as he seems in the game proper.

I like that Daniil is trusting and hopeful; I personally dislike the idea that that is somehow more naïve than being guarded or pessimistic. I consider it one of his strengths, which allows him to work with others (even if he can be exceedingly ornery sometimes) and is an important foundation for his ideals. It’s all just sad to me how Daniil’s own virtues end up being used against him, but it makes an interesting case study of his character

#pathologic #daniil dankovsky #aglaya lilich #patho.txt

146 notes · View notes

matan4il · 6 months

Text

Daily update post:

Yesterday, over 100 funerals were held in the small community of kibbutz Be'eri. Just one community. Hamas rockets were also fired yesterday at the kibbutz. We can't even bury our dead in peace.

At least 133 of the murdered were not Jewish. Yoseph Haddad, an Israeli Muslim Arab, gives his perspective:

This following pic is so on point for way too many people on Tumblr:

For the record, "It's wrong, but..." doesn't count as speaking out against the cold-blooded murder of Jews in their homes.

I'm writing about certain aspects less, but Israeli society has been FULL of beautiful gestures and acts of kindness. One example is a mother who had lost her only son to Hamas terrorists a few years ago, and who opened a free "supermarket" for Israelis running out of food and water, especially from among the evacuees. Another is a Bedouin family, who uploaded a video inviting anyone of the Jews who had been turned homeless to come and stay with them. These gestures from among the Israeli Arabs, Bedouins and Druze are the most beautiful ones to me. They're proof that we want and we CAN live here together, peacefully. Sadly, at least one such gesture was "punished." An Arab shop owner decided to donate 30 bicycles to Jewish kids from the south who had lost their homes. In retaliation, his shop was broken into, robbed, and then set on fire. What moves me the most is that even after that, he said he doesn't regret his decision, and will continue to contribute to Israeli society.

I want to say something about the warning that was given to Palestinians to evacuate the northern part of Gaza.

If Israel had started bombing that area with the intention of destroying Hamas facilities there, but without giving any warning, it would have killed a lot of civilians, and the reaction of the world would have been to decry Israeli actions. When Israel is giving them warning to move out, so that they're not killed in the bombings (and when they CAN return to their land once the fighting is done), Israel is still denounced, and I've seen people calling this by all sorts of horrendous terms (that don't actually apply). If Israel is being portrayed as evil whether we give a warning or not, what that means is that people are just not okay with Israel acting against Hamas in any capacity.

Except Israel doesn't actually have a choice. We tried to have one! That's what the border fence was for. We invested billions of shekels in building it. Money that could have gone to school, to hospitals, to rehabilitation programs, to all sorts of purposes that could have made Israeli society better, and save Israeli lives outside of the context of this conflict. Every Israeli patient whose life could have been saved if out medical system was better, for example, is one of the "invisible victims" of the conflict IMO. We spent so much money on the fence to stop Hamas, so that we wouldn't have to go into Gaza and fight to eliminate that organization. Such fighting would have ended in a loss of life for Israelis and for Gazans, so instead we built that fence. It was technologically the most advanced it could be. It still didn't stop Hamas. They built terror tunnels that brought them to the fence without being spotted on the surface, they had bombs that it seems they planted at the border during their "protests" near the fence, they had suicide drones that took out all of the electronic surveillance along the fence, leaving Israel "blind" as the infiltration of thousands of terrorists into its territory began, and they had intel on where the security forces are, to take them out first and leave the civilians vulnerable to rape, mutilation, kidnappings and murder.

In other words, there is no fence, there is no barrier that can stop Hamas. And without that, it's only a matter of time before carnage like this WILL happen again.

I am scared. For the families of the hostages, the thought of the fighting, where Israeli or Hamas fire might kill there loved ones, must be particularly difficult. Innocents will die on both sides when the ground action will start. That's always terrible, but for a country still counting and trying to identify its dead, that's a particularly gruesome truth. That we're sending some of our 18 year olds to die in order to keep the babies safe. Knowing that every one of these 18 year olds is somebody's baby. Every day, every hour that passes allows Hamas to dig in, to prepare and to lay traps for our soldiers. And yet the ground action has not started yet, because we want to give the Palestinians in the northern part of Gaza a chance to flee.

You can dislike the coming loss of life. We all do. I am shrinking with internal pain just thinking about it. But please stop painting the Israeli military reaction as if it's just a senseless revenge driven by blood lust. It's not. At least understand our perspective. To us, it's a fight for our lives. It's a fight for our lives that, no matter what, we will pay for with the lives of some of our loved ones.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #antisemitism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish

113 notes · View notes

agentrouka-blog · 1 month

Note

Jaime didn't feel the connection with his children unlike Cersei. His reaction on Joffery's death is really weird. Not only that he mocked Joffery death while having sex with Cersei near his body.

I wrote a post about that whole mess a while back, which basically sums it all up as "Jaime projects the loss of their mother onto Cersei and views his own children as competition".

He can't be a father unless he finally chooses to grow up and stops blaming other people for his own choices. Including Cersei.

Over and again he keeps comparing himself to or projecting himself onto teenagers: Loras, Peck, Lancel - and yes, Brienne as well. He is stuck in the past, a perpetual adolescence, because he remains stuck in the trauma of growing up as Tywin's child (same as Cersei and Tyrion) and the trauma of the Rebellion that made him a kingslayer at age 17. In this regard, he is no different than Ned or Robert or others, who also never quite learned how to move past the violent end to their youth and the losses they had to bear. It informs how these people act as parents - if they do at all.

We see him try and start to take on an adult, parental role with Tommen. But it barely moves anywhere and it exhausts itself in telling Tommen to pretend away a disturbing fact, and before long he is on the road, stuttering and failing to reinvent himself as "Goldenhand the Just", enforcer of Tywin's legacy, denouncing Cersei like he washed his hands of Joffrey.

But that weak small beginning with Tommen seems, to me, to be the true path forward with him. It's the only original thing Jaime can do as a character: actually see Cersei with compassion and take responsibility for his own choices for once, including the children he chose to father.

And now he's dead. He pictured Joff lying still and cold with a face black from poison, and still felt nothing. Perhaps he was the monster they claimed. If the Father Above came down to offer him back his son or his hand, Jaime knew which he would choose. He had a second son, after all, and seed enough for many more. If Cersei wants another child I'll give her one . . . and this time I'll hold him, and the Others take those who do not like it. Robert was rotting in his grave, and Jaime was sick of lies. (ASOS, Jaime VII)

Jaime will have to choose and it won't involve starting from scratch. Only his own self-created messes and being actually honest with himself for once.

#jaime lannister #cersei lannister #anti braime #<- for filtering #jaime x cersei

35 notes · View notes

bebop-station · 7 months

Text

Shostakovich and Aziraphale

I was thinking (and talking to @balance-of-probability endlessly) about the choice to have Shostakovich's fifth symphony feature so heavily in S2 ep 1, and how it struck me as a little odd as there are a bunch of composers Aziraphale loves mentioned in the book and Shostakovich isn't amongst them.

Backstory: In 1934, Shostakovich’s opera Lady Macbeth of Mtensk premiered to huge popular acclaim, which was very briskly walked back in 1936 after the Stalinist newspaper Pravda published an article denouncing it.

Actually more than denouncing it, condemning it. It wasn’t credited but was authored by a guy called David Zaslavsky who was almost definitely scribing for Stalin himself. Lady Macbeth was banned in the USSR until 1961.

Anyway by 1936 Shostakovich had written his fourth symphony, which he withdrew from public performance until 1961 because it was more of the same thing that had made the Soviet leadership cancel Lady Macbeth – it was unconventional, anti-patriotic, and indicated that Shostakovich was a “bourgeois formalist”.

So he shelved it and started working on Symphony No. 5 which is, on the surface at least, Soviet as fuck. And that’s what we hear Aziraphale listening to in S2E1.

(Sidebar this story is told in Julian Barnes’ The Noise of Time which is either a literary wank soup or a masterpiece depending on how cranky you are when you first read it)

So basically what Dmitri Shostakovich did in those years between the fourth and fifth symphonies was something that might be familiar to S2E6 enjoyers/agonisers: he decided to toe the party line.

Kind of.

Listening to the finale of the fifth symphony (and if you want to listen along it’s the recording of Leonard Bernstein conducting the New York Philharmonic, it’ll be called something like Symphony No. 5 in D minor, Op. 47; iv. Allegro non troppo) without the context of the rest of the symphony or in fact Shostakovich’s life is like ah yes that’s a bit of a Soviet battle anthem let’s march into Leningrad or whatever.

But it is, as critics have increasingly understood in the years since Shostakovich demurely described it as “a Soviet artist's no-nonsense response to fair criticism”, dripping with irony. This man reviled the Stalinist line on art and life – he takes the Soviet anthem and turns it into a sort of fucked up evil clown march. The whole thing gives me this vibe:

(gif from @goodomensedit)

There’s a lot of stuff about that time in Shostakovich’s life that is extremely hard to verify. There’s a “memoir” which is for sure at least partially fabricated called Testimony in which there’s an alleged quote from our man saying that final movement is a parody, that “it's as if someone were beating you with a stick and saying, "Your business is rejoicing, your business is rejoicing", and you rise, shaky, and go marching off, muttering, "Our business is rejoicing, our business is rejoicing"."

Whether or not Shostakovich said that (some of his friends who outlived him support that reading, including Rostropovich who conducted a bunch of his work) you can definitely hear it in the piece and you can definitely see how it gives us a clue into the decision Aziraphale makes at the end of the season.

What Shostakovich had to decide back in the 1930s was whether he would a) flee to somewhere like the US, where many other artists targeted by Stalin went; b) stay and become a public nuisance, leading almost definitely to an off-the-books execution; or c) become a party-approved Soviet Artist and hope for change. Even nudge it along in a subtle way. Even get on the inside and work to bring it down. We don’t know how true that was for old mate Dmitri and we don’t yet know exactly what Aziraphale has planned. But yeah:

tl;dr: Shostakovich 🤝 Aziraphale

Staying inside a rancid and destructive militarised culture in the hope that it can change

#aziraphale #go2 #good omens #good omens spoilers #ineffable husbands #azicrow #source: I am a radio producer who makes classical music documentaries and also a gay nerd

113 notes · View notes

lunarmoonanons · 1 year

Text

The Second Mother

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Pre-Conquest (they are Aegon, Rhaenys and Visenya parents)

Yandere Aerion Targaryen x Reader x Yandere Valaena Velaryon

Reader tried to Runaway but was caught by the Dragons of her stepchildren and brought back. A Boat vs Dragon would not end well, Aerion choose to get her pregnant as a way to force her stay with them.

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Masterlist

YN didn’t know how, but she was able to smuggle herself on a boat sailing for Yi Ti. Her home. For the past few months she had been kept prisoner by her employer and his family who had all grown a strange obsession for her.

YN was a tutor from Yi Ti. She had been the emperor's top educator for his children and the tutor for many noble families back home. When she received a request from one of the last Valryian families to tutor his children, YN was excited for a chance to see a new land and meet the last remains of the Valyrian empire. A choice she would soon regret.

She didn’t know what it was, but ever since she started working for Aerion Targaryen, he and his wife had been trying to entice her into an affair between the three of them. When she said no and very publicly (as public as you can be on an island) denounced any affection and attempt at romance there was a visible shift in her stay at Dragonstone. Her freedoms became less and less, and soon the few people she was allowed to see became fewer and fewer. Soon, even the maester on the island was forbidden to speak to her.

The only people who remained in close contact with her were Aerion and his wife Valaena as well as the three children she was tutoring.

The obsession didn’t just end with the parents. Instead it extended to the children as well, if their father or mother were not at her side, then one or all of them would be. They idolized her, loved her, and demanded her attention at almost all hours of the day. The only normal child seemed to be Orys, the bastard son of the head of the Targaryens.

YN had planned her escape with great detail, everything down to the letter. What boat would smuggle her, what route she’d take, what provisions she would have, and what she’d pay the captain. Her escape was escalated by the death of Valaena just over a few weeks ago. The whole family was in mourning and that meant they were distracted. Rhaenys was so distraught over her mother, it took all of her siblings to calm her down. And though Aerion still tried to seduce YN, he too was distracted by the death of his wife to notice YN planning her escape. So in the breaking hours of dawn, with a bag of her belongings and help from the Maester, YN escaped onto a ship bound for Essos.

YN bit her thumb and paced about the ship, the swaying of the craft not bothering her. Her hair shifted slightly by the sea air, but nothing seemed to calm her from the pit in her stomach. She was worried and slightly regretful. Even though they scared her with how much they loved her, she would miss the children. Visenya with her wild ways. Aegon with his strong personal morals, Rhaenys’ sweet nature, and Orys’ with his curious mind. They might have also contributed to her capture, but they were her students and she couldn’t place all the blame on them.

When the sun was high, YN decided to ask the captain how long it would take. They had stopped at an island at the stepstones for a bit and YN wanted to pay half of her pay now. She barely made it a few steps when large shadows had started to over take the sky.

Two large beasts had started flying toward them. Dragons.

YN had seen them on the island, and had kept her distance. The beasts were monstrous and frightening, especially the large one. It seemed too big for its own good, large and scary. So seeing two of them flying toward her, put the fear of the Lion of Night into YN’s heart. Once they landed, YN’s heart fell to her stomach when she saw Aegon and Visenya dismount from the two dragons.

“Mama. I knew you wouldn’t be far” Aegon smiled and walked up to give her a hug. YN was frozen for a second before she gained sense and pushed him back.

“I’m not your mother, Aegon. I’m sorry but she’s dead, you cannot replace her with me.” YN stuttered, eyes wide and frantic. Aegon merely smiled a terrifying smile tilting his head as he looked at her.

“But you are my mother. Father said you two are to be husband and wife, now we must get you back. He’s waiting for us.” Aegon was calm, too calm.

Visenya looked with a scary grimace and kept a hand on her sword. She was not as peaceful as her brother, and she would drag her “confused” mother back if she had to.

“You will come with us. Aegon may be willing to negotiate, but I will draw blood if I have to.” Visenya stated, glaring deep into YN’s eyes, not with hatred but annoyance. “In fact, Aegon and I will burn this entire island to smolder if that’s the only way to get you.”

“We’ve already killed the Maester for helping you. Do you want more blood on your conscience, Mama?” The 14 year old sweetly smiled, but his eyes held a terrifying glance.

YN gasped and held a hand to her mouth, swallowing her sobs at the pain she caused the maester. She didn’t want to go back, but she couldn’t be responsible for everyone else dying too. She took a look back at the crew who stood frozen in place, terrified at what she would say, begging with their eyes to spare them.

“I… I will go with you, Just let them live.” YN stuttered.

Aegon’s smile grew as he held out his hand for her to take. YN’s shaking hand held his, her legs wavered as she climbed the black dragon. Her hands didn’t stop shaking as she stared down in horror at the beast.

“Do you like him? I claimed him today, in search for you.” Aegon said, but his words fell on deaf ears.

It was quiet trip back to Dragonstone. Once they were back on the island, and back to the castle, Yn’s hands had finally stopped shaking. She steadied and reminded herself to be strong. Rhaenys was the first to greet her. The 12 year old bounded her way to the woman and wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. She was very excited to see YN.

“Mama! You’re back! Did you hear the great news?! You and father are to be married tonight!” Rhaenys squealed and bounced on her heels. YN merely patted her hair absentmindedly.

“Where is your father Rhaenys?” YN asked.

“I am happy you have found your way back.” Aerion stated, making his way over to the woman. He shooed his children away and made his way closer to the woman. When he was close enough he placed a hand to the woman’s cold cheek and smiled at her, ignoring the tear that fell from her eye. “We shall be married. You cannot deny me what I want anymore. It is what Valaena wanted. We have to honor her in death.”

“You are grieving, you do not love me. You are just trying to replace your wife’s memory with me.” YN tried to reason, but to no avail.

Aerion Ignored her and placid a kiss to her lips. That night, YN was frozen in shock at what future her life would hold. YN cried during her ceremony. Her clothes from Yi Ti were taken and she was placed in Targaryen garments. Her life would be as a Targaryen wife and mother to Targaryen children. And she would be forced to carry Targaryen children. A life doomed to be a Targaryen.

Whoo! Two requests in one day.

#aerion targaryen #aegon i targaryen #visenya the conqueror #rhaenys targaryen #yandere targaryens #yandere targaryen #house targaryen #targaryens #ASoIaF #asoiaf x reader

264 notes · View notes