#tower of god myths | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yoursinfulurges · 2 years

Text

Serpentine

Martell!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: "Perhaps I will be the first to to prompt such obedience from you... To make you bow. To bend you... To break you..."

The reader rides a giant snake bc why not.

Your ethnicity is not specified.

Also apologies in advance as I stray heavily from accurate information. I mainly used Dorne and the Martells as a place holder so this is my own narrative. For the sake of this story Dorne is it's own independent land. Viserys isn't dying in this fic because he needs to catch a break so all is right except for the classic disfunction Targaryen family. I might make this a series but right now it's a oneshot.

Word Count: 6k

༺━━━━━━━━━༻༒༺━━━━━━━━━༻

The air laid heavy today as the undying heat of the desert dunes takes it's toll on you. Tearing your eyes away from the sea horizon your gaze wanders to the Sunspear port, small and far away but still so clearly visible to your bedroom tower. With uneasiness, your focal point lands on a large black ship bearing the Targaryen house symbol. Bold and imposing painted proudly on the black sails. You wonder if they were already in the castle, not knowing how late of the hour the ship got here, just that when you awoken it was miraculously there. As a Warrior Princess you pride yourself in never letting your nerves get to you but as of this moment you were a mess of anxiety, succumbing to all the ill thoughts and worries that sparked restlessness within you.

It felt stupid to be so choked up about such a frivolous thing, you always knew this day was going to come and that it was expected of you. But to have it be under such unexpected terms was gut wrenching. All your life you knew that you would never marry for love and you were alright with that, but you had at least hoped it was to somebody you were familiar with. And by familiar you did not mean this. The Targaryens were your rival house, or so it had been.

In attempts to amend old wounds your father had promised your hand to the second born prince of King Viserys Targaryen. A union that neither you or Aemond had expected, as it seemed rather out of place. Dorne is the least populated of the Seven Kingdoms and your people differ both culturally and physically from all of Westeros. So a marriage proposal from the well esteemed house Targaryen to the Martells appeared to be a myth of the First Men.

Although you weren't one to engage in pessimistic thoughts, arguably it made more sense for you to be married off to an Allyrion or Blackmont. Established noble houses of your region. The Targaryens were barbaric outsiders with tendencies to take whatever they want by bloodshed, they pave their own way with fire without regards for others. Luckily it isn't in your nature to bend and be trampled on so easily. It was known to all that your bloodlines were never meant to cross fates. The tale of how the silver haired angel fell from her grace off her dying dragons back, was a victory Dorne relished greatly in. It was a momentous triumph for history that proved the power of your people and the Martells. Aegon conquered all of Westeros but Dorne.

Some would say that there is no greater threat to the Targaryens than your bloodline. And you agreed, they had their dragons and you had your sand snakes, one venomous bite is enough to kill seven full grown dragons. Admittedly, it was a smart political move, although unforseen. A union with such bravado would surely strengthen both houses, and serve as a great threat to those who dare challenged the crown. You did feel a sense of pride not only in your house but in yourself as well, as the good of the realm rested on you.

But truthfully you were hesitant and weary, praying to the gods all goes well. As great as this union was, it also served to be quite dangerous, and can potentially be one of the most foolish mistakes all of Westeros had ever seen. If you aren't able to get along well enough, or even tolerate Aemond then goodwill will be lost and all of the realm will be set on fire. You would never purposely encourage war, but you had your own ways of living. And you understood greatly that you were far more fortunate than many women in Kingslanding. That being said, you intend to fight for your honor and dignity by all means necessary. Regardless if whether or not your husband turned out to be quite a piece of work.

You understood the true reason for your marriage, despite it being poorly concealed behind optimistic words from King Viserys. You would make it a point to yourself to do your best to serve your duty. But above all that must come your freedom and rights. Those are values you cannot afford to sacrifice. Although you doubt that the King would be malicious enough to pour honey into your fathers ears, only to set you up to be treated badly. A part of you wondered if there was any veracity to his words.

In his letter he emphasized the silent disdain your families both had for eachother, and he that wanted to put an end to things. If that is his true intentions or not was unclear, but you are not so easily trusting. You had never witnessed this so called fued between your families for yourself, having never left Dorne before. But you've heard stories of how defiant your uncles have been in court. Purposely refusing to bend the knee to the crown in their own kingdom, which of course prompted a rightful murder in your opinion. It was disrespectful and improper so therefore justified, and you were never fond of your uncles. However, this of course gave your father grounds to loathe the Targaryens. But he was much more cordial than his brothers, as he was a forgiving man.

To say that you were anxious for your husband-to-be's arrival was an understatement. You knew that your cultures varied so vastly, so what if he deemed what you were wearing improper? It was quite scandalous by the Crownlands standards but they were in your kingdom now. And truthfully it would be highly improper and frowned upon for them to chastise you in anyway. Not that you cared if they did, you had your own way of dressing and by your standards this was your idea of dressing for the occasion. You had decided to wear white instead of your house colors, it was a sign that you welcome them and were ready to accept their customs. Funnily enough, white was the color of purity and you represent anything but. Your dress was a simple one in your eyes. Soft and long in material adorned with a cape. Floral embroidery decorated the bodice of the dress, and around your waist tied a svelte sylphlike rope, casting a certain refinery to your aura. The neckline plunged low and the gown displayed two meticulous slits down the front, showcasing your thighs.

While yes it did seem rather unseemly to the unfamiliar eyes, you were not going to sacrifice your comfort and culture for the sake of decency. There was a reason to be in so little layers, the sun and heat of sahara was unkind. Sighing in content your eyes wanders over to your bed, landing on a sheathed dagger. You had put it out earlier and was originally planning on bearing it but decided not to with the advice of your mother. Scoffing at her words that rang so vividly in your ears you picked up the weapon. It was light and delicate, well as delicate as blades can get. The knife shined a pure sterling silver, unlike any other color you've seen before, well complementing your dress. It was curved in shape, mimicking a claw of sorts and the hilt was marbled with the texture of pearls. Beautiful, it was a fitting weapon for a princess of your stature. Disregarding your mothers words, you fastened the dagger around your waist, thus completing your outfit. If they dared say anything about your obscenity you would cut their tongue out of their mouth.

"Princess? They are ready for you." A member of your fathers small council alerted. Breaking you from your trance, his voice muffled slightly by your bedroom door.

The walk to the throne room was agonizing, though you held a strong and cold demeanor to the passing eye, inside you were dying. With sweaty palms you fear your head was going to explode by the amount of worries that whirlwind within it. You know little of the man you are said to marry, only hushed whispers that had managed to travel past the narrow sea. Being aware that he was a warrior, much like you, though he has little to no experience in the battlefield. You also knew that he rides the largest dragon in all of Westeros and unfortunately because of it he only has one eye. You were rather impartial on that fact, whilst yes your father did stress on you that the match wasn't ideal because of it, truthfully you did not care. After all, what's a missing eye to someone who has disfigured and tormented so many. You've had your fair shares of experience, as much as your father would allow you, but at this point you have seen it all. Honestly you were just glad to receive a match that's the same age as you. And although your views on Aemond could differ based off your judge of his character, as of right now you have yet to meet him. So it would be unjust to already discriminate against him, time would only tell if he warrants such behavior and you had plenty of patience.

Aemond however does not. His family arrived at Sunspear late in the hours of the night and were met by the King and Queen only. They were then prompted to their own rooms to get some much needed rest. All throughout the morning he has yet to see a sight of you and it was well beyond noon at this point. Now Aemond doesn't consider himself an impatient person, but when it came to meeting his soon-to-be wife he was in a particularly rushing mood. Not that he let his excitement showed, truthfully he didn't know why he was eager to meet you. Perhaps because he had long been awaiting this day since before he lost an eye. The good old days, when his childhood youth was once filled with the anticipation of receiving his own dragon and his own wife. Of course as time came the matter began to feel so subsequential, but back then that was all he ever truly cared about. Maybe in his young mind, having both a dragon and a wife meant that he was as equally masculine and worthy of the Targaryen name as his brother and nephews.

Though it was never that simple, no matter how much he tried to prove himself to his brother, he was always the lesser than. Getting picked on and berated for letting a bastard sully him. Being tormented with the idea that his wife would see him as hideous, or worst fear him. Aemond was a strong man, but he was also human and it is human for him to be insecure. What if you didn't like him? Yes he viewed this marriage as not ideal but what if you harbored animosity? Snapping out of his thoughts by his dear sister elbowing him, he turned to Helaena to wonder what prompted her discordant. It wasn't like her to be so... aware of the real world, as nicely as Aemond would put it. She nervously diverted her eyes, nodding towards towards the door and it was that moment that Aemond realized.

By the gods you were beautiful...

Ascending from the stairs was a young women unlike any he had ever seen before. And as you near Aemond found himself nervously clenching his fists. Despite showing such anxious stature, he beared no expression, contrary to his true feelings. For a moment his breathe quickened as you bow before his mother and father, gaze trailing over your exposed thighs. Scolding himself silently, he tears his eye away from your body. It was perverted for him to blatantly stare, especially since this was your normal. You probably didn't know sexual you appeared to look right now. Not that he complained.... Stop... That was how your people dressed, it would be improper to think so vile about their princess. Inhaling sharply, he keeps a steady feature as he listened to his mother greet you. Taking your hand in hers, she began to drag you over to where he and his siblings stood.

"This is prince Aegon." His mother introduced. Watching the way his brother blatantly ogled at your body, an unfamiliar feeling began to brew in his chest. He didn't like that his brother was looking at her like that, especially since she was to be his wife.

"Princess Helaena." Alicent nodded to her daughter, observing the way you smiled gently at her in acknowledgment.

"Please to meet you princess." Helaena bowed, her words timid but you returned the greeting.

"And this is prince Aemond... your betrothed."

Aemond watched your reaction carefully, taking in the way that you smiled and bowed to him. You appeared nice enough, though he didn't know what he expected. Perhaps for you to scowl and throw a fit? With this close of a distance he was able to get a good view of your face and indeed you were beautiful. But it all meant nothing if you were going to reject him. Testing the waters, Aemond takes your hand in his, curtly leaning in close as he brings your digits to his lips. Keeping a locked gaze at your expression as he places a chaste kiss on the area above your knuckles. You felt soft...

"Pleased to meet you, my princess." He spoke lowly, registering the way that you smirked in satisfaction, no alternative emotions in sight.

"The pleasure is all mine, your grace." Aemond looked at you with such scrutiny as you spoke. Trying to find hints of disgust or animosity through your porcelain mask yet as he took in every detail of your face he found no trace of abhorrence.

But behind your doe eyes there was something there, something he could not quite place. It was unfamiliar in every sense and he didn't know how to decipher it. You were giving him a knowing look as if you two both shared a sacred secret with one another. And although Aemond did not know what prompted this emotion, he desperately wanted to know more.

Much of the evening was filled with merriment and mirth as the hatred that once squandered friendships faded away. Your father and the king talked of many things alike and began to realize that in truth it was time to mend things. The tension between your families was long in the past although unavoidable between you and Aemond. He couldn't understand why he was so drawn to you but everywhere you went he followed. Watching silently like a predator stalking it's prey as you conversed with his sister. He didn't mean to be so stand offish. Truthfully he wanted to have a little privacy away from his family to get to know you more. There was very little room for you both to talk without intrusion. Whilst yes, the thought of being unsupervised with you may be a little unbecoming, he liked it that way. Perhaps only then, when he corners you, will he get to uncover the reasoning for your unbidden stares.

There was something rather vulgar beneath those siren eyes as you looked at him with sharp conviction. The way your vision would haze and cloud with interest, lips curling in a sly smirk displaying ardor. You were teasing him...

Throughout the evening you both danced around one another till eventually it turned into a game of cat and mouse. You moved with such precision and allure that Aemond found himself awestruck and wanting more. It was exciting to him. He admired how you carried yourself with such elegance and high importance, seeming almost unearthly. They say Targaryens are closer to gods than man, but your very existence challenged that claim. You had vanity, that was plain to see. Your moves are convoluted and don't go unnoticed by him, carefully articulating around the labyrinth of walls he built up. You were the embodiment of serpentine and he didn't know what scared him most. The fact that he is so ready to welcome you with open arms, or the fact that you were aware of your power over him.

Aemond, in principle, is not used to the physical manifestation of feelings. And yet here he was now, standing in the middle of a fucking desert, longing for affection. Or perhaps he only enjoyed the thought because it involved you touching him. There was something so genuine about you, something so raw and potent with rapport. He saw it while you were speaking with his sister, you treated her like anyone else and that was rare to see. You had an affinity for empathy and a way with words like no other, you knew just what to say to his family. That was impressive in it's own right.

It became glaringly obvious now to Aemond that the you had a gifted touch, you were able to make anyone feel like the rarest gem in the world. Yet in truth no diamond is brighter than it's maker. To Aemond you were a paragon of the finest jewels. The sapphire of his eye. He knew it was unhealthy for him to get so attached to you so quickly but how could he not. All his youth he had been waiting for this. Having grown up alone, watching everyone get the things he wanted and now here you were. You were his, he's never had anything that was completely fully his...

"Forgive me I didn't know anyone would be in here..." Aemond spoke lowly, breaking you from your trance as you tore your eyes away from your book.

"This is my private study, my prince... You are free to join me if you wish." The hour was late and nearly all of the castle has gone to bed already. All but you and Aemond... Welcoming him to sit with you over the fireplace as you set your literature aside. This would be interesting...

You both didn't speak for a moment as you feel his presence quickly approaching. Straightening your nightwear as you feel him sit across from you on the untaken armchair. You lift your graze to finally meet his stare in an act of bravery, breath halting for a moment... He made you nervous in every sense imaginable as he held your gaze in confidence.

Aemond Targaryen was gorgeous in such a violent way. You only began to observe it now. There was something so fierce and daunting about his face. Porcelain yet warrior-like, rivaling the beauty of Old Valyria. The prince had a certain vainglory to him. Silent but raw, untamed, and unchallenged. He was unlike any man, the son of war worthy of the iron throne. Strong nose that contrasted his expression well. Dainty lips that utter soft spoken words like whisps.

In secret you wanted them to articulate sweet nothings in your ear...

You did not know where these overwhelming feelings channeled from. But as his hold bore into you, it evoked a touch of insecurity. You felt like he was looking at your very core, past skin and bones and at your morals. Never in your life had you ever gazed at such man. His features preforming one great symphony. A constellation of trauma and abuse in the form of a scar kissed his skin, creating a myriad of Venus. It became painfully evident now that he brought something out in you. Gods be good...

He stared at her with a soft gaze, admiring the way the lit fire illuminated her skin. Openly, he thought you beautiful, although majority of the men here can also say the same thing. Yet as he looked at you more Aemond found himself really seeing you. That enchanting aura faltering just a little bit. You looked vulnerable right here, right now in this exact moment. You looked human. And he thought it was beautiful. The more he sat there the more content he got with this union, you were a fine match. Perhaps it was alright to be vulnerable....

Aemond doesn't say anything for a few more moments, simply gazing at the you as he licks his lips. While you could see yourself in his eye, you wondered what he was truly seeing to look at you like that. Like you were carved from the finest of diamonds and bathed in gold, like if you were to touch him he'd crumble– a careful mix of admiration and fear. Time starts to still and the atmosphere around you began to form tension. Suddenly the fireplace mutes, fading into nothing but hushed crackle as the two find themselves at a standstill. It was just you and him in your sacred little world... No one else... All turns irrelevant as you become intoxicated with eachothers presence.

"Tell me about yourself princess." He spoke, breaking the silence that overtook the room. Pausing for a brief moment to let his gaze wander from your face. Well..... this was improper indeed... The clothes you wore were foreign to him but he gathered it was your nightwear. Temperatures here hot here, it made sense for you to wear very little at night, not that he complained. It was captivating... the garment didn't look like a dress, but rather a two piece that was interwoven together with three long panels covering your modesty. The color was rather fitting on you, a darker grey than the dress you wore earlier almost appearing silver. Sitting with your thighs exposed in a leaned back and slack manner, Aemonds focus leaves your skin and meets your face once more. Breath hitching as your smirk widens. You had caught him looking...

"Forgive me for being so crass, but I'm not one to soften words. My people are very blunt individuals and I dislike small talk so allow me to have some clarity." Your words were honey to his ears, he wasn't entirely fond of small talk either, but your inquiry made him nervous.

"Please, never bite back your tongue when you are with me, what do you wish to know?" Aemond spoke after some time, leaning back to cross his leg over the other.

"What are your views are on our marriage and if you intend to honor our union."

"I'm not following..." Confused he urged on.

"Do you.... intend to stray from our marriage..." His eye widens at that, shocked that you would ask him such question. But it was only fair...

"I know that is straight forward and unseemly but please allow me the peace of knowing now, as it less complicates things later on..." Ah' he said within the confinements of his brain, finally understanding the meaning of your words. Aemond looked down in deep thought, trying to find the right words to say to you. He was a territorial man, possessive in every way so this question striked a certain nerve in him. He wondered why you would even ask that, unless you already had a lover.... He didn't like that thought. That could not be.

"I would never purposely hurt our dignity like that. Truthfully I find it foolish. I am a man that values duty above all, and tis my duty to be your husband and unite our kingdoms. I have seen what infidelity has done to my family, the strain it puts on my mother... I never want to be the cause of her pain by fathering bastard children. So perhaps it is best we stay true to one another." Satisfied with his response, you let out a faint 'hm' before turning away.

"So I've heard... Thank you for enlightening me." You spoke as you stared in great thought at the fire, though he can see a faint smile on your lips.

"Has word of my bastard nephews been so vastly spread that it reached the shores of Sunspear?" He pressed on, now an accompanying smile spreads on his lips, mirroring his companions expression. You laughed at that, a sound Aemond declared he liked.

"People talk, prince Aemond, naturally word would get around." You spoke teasingly, stopping for minute just to admire one another. Calmness falling over you both, as you sat still unbidden just gazing into eachothers rarity.

"Hmm... Tell me, do you intend to honor our union?" Aemond spoke, his voice sounded rougher than before, and you think he may have even rolled his eye. Smirking to yourself as you began to understand that he was a possessive man.

"Of course. I believe in fair playing fields, and getting even. So if you do not provoke me then I will not act out and provoke you. If you are loyal then I will be loyal." In a quick motion he was up his chair and standing directly in between your thighs. You peered up at him through your lashes, the smirk pulling at your lips growing by the second.

His heart sits heavily between the two of you, weeping for your touch, yearning with such want, such need. He swears when your eyes echoes his wants, tempting him to indulge you through curled lashes. The man condemns himself for feeling so reckless, so needy, he had never felt this way before... Felt so much desire towards another individual. He knew this was bad, a distraction but if you were a sin, he'd happily walk into the gates of hell. And at that he surged forward. Breathing a shaky sigh as his hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing tightly.

You whimper at the pressure, your small hands flying to hold his arm but it was no use. He laughed lightly, pushing your head back onto the armchair, almost taunting you. Your back arches lightly, trying to push yourself up against him, whining when you couldn't. He leans down over you, his face so close as he lifts his knee onto the chair. Placing it directly in between your thighs, almost touching your heat.

Oh how badly he wanted this...

"Is that a threat my princess?" Aemond says directly in your right ear, his thumb leaving your neck to roughly graze your lower lip. You don't meet his eyes, choosing to look at somewhere else. You fear if you looked at him you'd lose the remaining composure you had left. He didn't like that, roughly turning your head to meet his face.

"No. I'm merely stating that I refuse to be subjected. Tis' not in my nature to bend the knee. Especially not to Targaryens. I understand that it is our duty to get along but who knows how this marriage ends up playing out. The Martells have stood unbowed, unbent and unbroken for centuries. You may burn me, but you will never make me kneel." You say through a heavy chest, trying desperately to get the words out even though you sounded much needier than intended.

It’s was hot, almost unbearable, and you wondered if whether or not it was the scorching heat of the sun, or just your own body feeling all flushed. Deciding it was the latter since the introductory was highly unlikely. You waited for him to speak, looking sharply at his lips. His eyelids flutter. Never in a million years would he have expected to be driven to the brink of insanity by the mere thought of someone’s lips. Nevertheless, you came along to put all of his bravado to shame. He felt like a young boy again, experiencing all of his firsts once more but this time, it was not with a lowly prostitute under Aegon's urge. No, he was entirely in control and the feelings were infinitely better, you were a goddess. Temptation lulled together with passion and possessiveness. Emotions being cradled by divinity in it's arms, it was all so intense. He wanted more of it...

"Perhaps I will be the first to to prompt such obedience from you, princess..." Aemond whispered, placing his forehead over your own as his finger tips trailed over the exposed skin of your waist. You shiver lightly and he laughs, closing your eyes as his hands get lower and lower...

"To make you bow in submission." He draws smooth circles on your hips. You felt warm, it was all too much but you didn't want him to stop. You liked the way he was speaking so close to you, liked the way he touched all over your body.

"To bend you..." Your eyes open lightly as you began to feel him lift your right thigh up onto the armchair. Looking at him as he says the words so slowly, watching as he positioned your body.

"To break you." He does the same to your left thigh, and it was at this point on you began to realize that he had spread your legs wide open. Fuck... The situation now dawning on you. This wasn't right... not until you were both married...

"You forget yourself, Aemond." You remind him, eyes locked on the visible bulge on his pants.

"Perhaps I do, there is a fire in you and it amuses me." Channelling the words deep in his throat as he grabs ahold of your jaw, forcing you to look up at him and away from his desire.

"Would you like to keep being amused?" Smirking lightly, a playful veil over takes your features.

"It's too soon my sweet." Aemond nods. If it were any other day he would have taken you, right here, right now. But it was far too soon, you had just met today and his mother would have his head if he bruised you this early on. He was not a gentle man, the world would know if he fucked you.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Aemond scoffs at that, watching you turn away. He straightens up, but still keeps his leg in between your spread thighs.

"Oh do you not? Then please tell me, how do you plan on amusing me?" Lightly guiding your chin with his fingers to look at him once more.

"With my lips of course."

"We can't touch eachother but there's no saying we can't share a loving kiss, or perhaps a kiss more than loving..." You smile lightly and he mirrors your expression.

"Now that I can condone." And at that he leans forward to cup your face and takes your lips in his. Holding his wrists once more, you smile into the kiss. Maybe this union wouldn't be all that bad... You're getting quite content with being by Aemonds side.

Next part

Authors Note:

I want to make this a little mini series perhaps, like you and Aemond's wedding and consummation, your children being born, you meeting Vhagar and him meeting your giant snake etc. Let me know what you guys think. I also did not edit this beforehand lmao. I'm not overly proud of this story but it's a good way to revive my Tumblr and branch out from the MCU. I'm taking requests in my inbox!

- Armoni

5K notes · View notes

spectrum-color · 8 months

Text

So we all know GRRM, like all authors, took a lot of inspo from real life fairy tales, religion, and mythology. There are a ton of parallels but I picked out a few to put in this poll

Propaganda: Before anyone says anything, I know a lot of these are dark spins on the original. I’m not trying to say Littlefinger is a handsome prince or whatever. Also note that some of this is based on either things that haven’t happened yet but are highly likely to happen in Winds/Dream up to and including being confirmed by GRRM.

Arya and Jaqen as Hades and Persephone-the young maiden of spring is found by the lord of the underworld, who gives her an object (in this case a coin) to trick her into being trapped in the world of the dead. When she leaves home, winter comes, but when she returns, so does spring.

Sansa as Rapunzel-a princess locked in a tower by an evil sorceress (or just queen) who is spirited away by a man who wants to marry her. Strong focus on her hair as a symbol of her identity.

The Brotherhood Without Banners as Robin Hood and his Merry Men-a band of outlaws who defend the common people against corrupt authority figures. This one is really self explanatory.

Cersei as the evil queen and Margaery/Sansa/eventually Dany as Snow White-a vain, cruel women terrified of her beauty fading and being replaced by a younger woman who outshines her, so she tries to destroy her perceived rival, ultimately leading to her own downfall. The girls in Snow Whites slot are the popular choices for the identity of the YMBQ and the one Cersei is currently convinced it is.

Jaime and Brienne as Beauty and the Beast-a double subversion. Jaime is handsome and Brienne is ugly, but when they meet she’s brave and kind while he’s selfish and cruel, so it’s the beast who helps the beauty be better.

Lyanna, Rhaegar, and Robert as Helen of Troy, Paris, and Menelaus-a beautiful woman fiercely desired by two powerful men, she either runs off with or is kidnapped by a prince, leading to her (soon to be) husband retaliating by starting a tragic war.

Stannis and Shireen as Agammemon and Iphegenia-a king and commander sacrifices his daughter to the gods to win a war. Bonus if this ends up causing Stannis’ downfall.

Lady Stoneheart as Demeter-a mother wanders the land bringing destruction and misery as she searches for her daughter(s.) When her daughters return to her, spring comes.

Cersei and Jaimes children as the emperor wearing no clothes-the emperor walks around naked insisting that he’s a wearing magic invisible outfit, but everyone is afraid to tell him the truth until finally a child points out that he’s wearing nothing at all. See: everyone pretending not to notice that Cerseis children are the result of incest with her brother, and Ned finally realizing the truth when his 11 year old daughter points out that Joffrey is nothing like Robert.

Bran as the Fisher King-the Fisher King is a character from Arthurian myth. He is the guardian of the magical holy grail, protecting it so it (and power) does not fall into the hands of the unworthy. Notably, he also has a deliberating injury to his legs or groin (depending on the version.) Of course the endgame Bran of the show is a blatant rip-off of Leto II from Children of Dune, but I think the Fisher King sounds more like GRRM would do.

Dany as Moses-a leader who has prophetic visions, who after performing a miracle, frees her people from slavery and leads them on a harsh journey to a new land. Notably regarded as a critically important figure by a monotheistic religion.

#a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #lyanna stark #rhaegar targaryen #robert baratheon #jaime lannister #cersei lannister #sansa stark #tommen lannister #joffrey lannister #myrcella lannister #arya stark #jaqen h'ghar #danerys targaryen #margaery tyrell #shireen baratheon #catelyn stark #I almost put jon as cinderella #but I feared the flame war it could kick off

575 notes · View notes

mysecretlittlelibrary · 7 months

Text

A Moment's Silence

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Oral (f receiving). unprotected sex, marking, praise, Loki got a dangerous mouth but this isn't too bad.

Genre: smut & fluff

Summary: Loki hates when you touch him, and you thought you knew exactly why. // A moment's silence when my baby puts her mouth on me ~ Moment's Silence (Common Tongue) by Hozier

***

The first thing Loki learned about you when you moved into the Avengers Tower was that you are touchy. Not in the 'you're too sensitive' way but in the you're very affectionate way. You're always greeting people with hugs and you cuddle whoever sits next to you during movie nights and whenever you're going somewhere with someone you're either holding their hand or linking arms with them. It's pretty different from the rest of the people living here. Except for Thor, no one here shares your affinity for touch but everyone loves you so they take it in stride. Welcoming your hugs and cuddles and hand holds to the point that most of them have become accustomed to it, expecting it more often than they want to admit.

Except Loki. Loki doesn't do touch and no amount of seeing you do it will make him more comfortable with it. You're no fool. You recognized early that although the others complained when you hugged them there was no real fight in their objections, with Loki it's different. He'd go as far as to disappear on you if you tried to hug him so you stopped. You don't hug Loki, or sit by him during movies, or try to grab his arm on the rare occasion that you're going somewhere with him. Honestly, for a while you didn't spend much time with Loki in general, you weren't sure how to. He was clearly a loner and you assumed you didn't have much in common. He didn't seem eager to bond with you either so you left him to his own devices.

Until recently. You've started spending a lot of your free time in the tower library and evidently, Loki is quite fond of the space too. So you kind of just share it. If you find yourself in there at the same time as him you say hello and pick a corner to do your reading. Sometimes you talk to him a bit and other times you just share each other's company. It's becoming a kind of lovely routine, at least in your eyes. You have no idea if Loki enjoys it as much as you actually but he can be pretty conversational on occasion, usually as long as you're not too close to him.

"Hello Loki." You say when he walks into the library. You've already been here a couple of hours, you honestly didn't think you'd see Loki today.

"Hello y/n. How are you today?" He asks.

"Pretty good. How are you?" You set your book face down in your lap as you watch him walk out of sight to one of the shelves.

"I'm alright! What are we reading today?" Loki's voice carries through the room to you.

"I've picked up a romance for now."

"Not legends and myths for once?" You can hear the teasing in his voice at his question.

"Fuck off I read other stuff." You laugh.

"News to me."

"And what will you be reading today god of mischief? Sifting through spells as always?"

"I was thinking poetry actually." Loki finally appears from beyond the stacks with a book in hand.

"You're a poetry fan?"

"Don't sound so surprised." He rolls his eyes as he sits in the armchair across from the couch you're lying on.

"Well, it's not like you use that silver tongue of yours to recite sonnets." You snort picking up your book.

"Some would say this silver tongue of mine has quite a way with words."

"And I'm sure it does but weaving together lies isn't the same as poeticism. No one will be mixing you up with Robert Frost or William Shakespeare." You muse, your attention drifting back to the story you were invested in before he arrived.

"Your midgardian bards are of no competition to a god you know."

"I'm sure Asgard has its own famous poets of which I'm sure no one would compare you to either." You mutter as you read.

"Now that's harsh." Loki says. You mumble an affirmative dismissively as the drama picks up in the chapter you're reading. Loki takes the hint and leaves you alone as he opens his own chosen read for the afternoon and you spend the rest of the day in silence. Until dinner.

"I'm making dinner and it's movie night. Are you joining us or will you stay here?" You ask, standing up.

"Do you want me to join?" Loki asks.

"I mean- not if you're going to be miserable. I'm just headcounting."

"The others aren't usually as welcoming as you can be."

"Well I w-" You stop yourself. You've only just started to form a friendship with Loki, as much as you enjoy spending time with him you can't outwardly say it. Well maybe you could but you have a feeling the skittish animal approach is best. "I wouldn't be... disappointed if you decided to join us."

"I'll think about it." He hums.

"Alright. See you, maybe." You leave with your book intent on finishing it after movie night. You drop it in your room before going to the kitchen to make dinner. Meatballs, mashed potatoes, and broccoli. It takes almost an hour to make enough for everyone and by the time you're done, most everyone's gathered in the living room.

"Dinner's up! Stevie, Bucky come grab the potatoes and broccoli please." You say grabbing the bowl with the meatballs.

"Coming!" Steve says as he and Bucky hop up from their seats and carry the other serving plates to the big table in the living room where the others are waiting.

"And Sam can you get plates for everyone hon." You say.

"Oh sure." Sam says.

"Get the soda from the fridge too! And the solo cups!" Tony calls after him as he heads into the kitchen.

"Man you coulda just got up and helped out like the rest of us." Sam rolls his eyes but he gets the soda and cups anyway in addition to the plates you asked for. You catch movement in the corner of your eye while everyone is serving themselves and your gaze pops up in time to see Loki strolling into the main room.

"Loki!" You smile before you can stop yourself.

"Brother! Will you be joining us for our moving picture night?" Thor asks.

"Yeah sure." Loki says.

"Brilliant!" Thor nods getting up to clap a hand on Loki's back.

"I made meatballs and broccoli and mashed potatoes if you'd like some. We were just getting settled before we start the movie." You tell him. To your surprise, Loki takes the empty seat beside you and you can only hope your shock doesn't show on your face.

"I haven't missed anything then?" Loki asks.

"Not really." You shake your head. Loki nods and serves himself food.

"Whose pick is it tonight?" You ask once everyone has food in front of them and a few of the boys have already started eating.

"The kid." Tony says, shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth.

"Yeah! I uh decided on Now You See Me." Peter says.

"Nice." Natasha nods.

"What is that?" Loki asks you.

"It's a heist movie." You tell him. "Peter, have you seen it before?" You ask.

"Uh-"

"It's not like the baby spider's gonna be attempting anything like this." Clint scoffs.

"That's not why I asked. I'm just wondering if he picked it because he wants to watch it for the first time or because it's a favorite." You roll your eyes.

"I've seen it once. I just thought it would be a fun watch." Peter says.

"Well let's start it then. Yes?" Wanda prompts. Peter sets up the movie and soon everyone's attention is on the screen as they eat. It's about halfway through the movie that your usual habits kick in and you lean over to place your head on the shoulder beside you- until you remember it's Loki by your side and Loki doesn't like being touched. You lull your head back and around to tilt the other way. Wanda's on your other side but she's cuddled up with Vision so you'll just chill with your head against the back of the couch. No biggie. One movie bleeds to the next though and apparently at some point you start drifting off. Not for long, maybe 5 minutes but when your eyes flutter open again your head has made its way to Loki's damn shoulder. You pull off when you realize, surprised he didn't shove you away whenever you landed there.

Loki had held his breath when he felt your head on his shoulder. He was reluctant to admit the weight felt- oddly comforting. If anyone asked he'd deny it to high heaven but he was pretty content with you leaning against him and when you'd woken up and abruptly moved he almost wanted to protest. Almost.

When the second movie ends, most of the others start cleaning up the living room. Since you made dinner, this part isn't your responsibility so you get up and excuse yourself from the group.

"Goodnight everybody." You say to the room. "And Loki, thank you for coming." You add just for him to hear. Before you can think better of it your hand runs gently through his hair when you speak to him but by the time he's reacting to it you're already disappearing down the hall to your room. Loki spends the rest of the night thinking about your hand in his hair, your head on his shoulder, the way you so casually thanked him at the end as you left- it was something so unfamiliar that he didn't know how to deal with it. And how insufferable to be up all night over this.

The next day when you enter the library after breakfast Loki is already there sitting on the couch in your usual shared space. You're almost done with the novel you picked up yesterday and your plan is to finish it now.

"Hello Loki." You say to him as you take a seat on the opposite couch.

"Hello y/n." He says. You don't notice the way he looks at you over the top of his book for a moment. He's not sure if he should talk to you about the night before or not. How would he even bring it up? The two of you maintain your usual quiet company for a few hours while you finish your book. When you've read the last page you return the book to the shelf you found it on. While walking back to your couch you almost crash into Loki who at some point stood up when you were looking for a new book.

"Oh shit- my bad Lo." You say.

"You dropped your bookmark." Loki says holding up the flat dragon-shaped metal. You gasp and pat your back pocket where you thought you'd put it.

"Fuck- thanks. It was a gift so- would totally suck to lose it." You say, throwing your arms around him. Loki doesn't feel the urge to magically escape your grasp and he almost stops you when you let him go. Almost. "Sorry- impulse." You mutter grabbing your bookmark from his hand.

"You're usually much better at not touching me." He points out.

"I guess we've been spending so much time together that I kind of forg- sorry man. Won't happen again." You mutter.

"I wasn't- I know that's what you're like. It wasn't a complaint. Just an observation."

"You can say it wasn't a complaint but I know what you're like too. You hate being touched." You scoff.

"That's not totally accurate."

"What?"

"Usually you're right- I do hate being touched but with you I don- it's not that I hate it but I still can't stand it just- in a different way than I'm used to." Loki says carefully.

"What does that mean?" You chuckle.

"I'm- not entirely sure." He frowns.

"Well, what if I- do you mind if I touch you now?" You ask carefully.

"That's- fine." Loki says, hesitation clear on his face. You lift your hand to his cheek gently and his eyes close when your skin touches his. You let your thumb graze him softly as his brow furrows. Loki's hand snaps up around your wrist moments later and he moves your hand just enough to break the contact. "I can't-"

"What is it?"

"Too much- it's too much. I feel- entirely too much when you touch me, I can't-"

"Can't what?" You tilt your head curiously.

"I don't know how to handle it. I want- I want more than I can have."

"Say more, please."

"When you... do that. When you touch me it- I don't know how to explain it I just want more from you. Like- like I could devour you whole and it would still not be enough and I- I can't, we can't- so you can't touch me."

"Why can't we?"

"What?" Loki's eyes widen at your calm question.

"You're saying we can't but- why? Is it- is it that this is a desire you have but wish you didn't or-"

"No. That's not it."

"Then- why... can't... we?"

"Please don't say things like that. Not if you don't mean them. I cannot take it."

"I wouldn't say it lightly. I don't understand why you're so adamant that I wouldn't want- that you couldn't have more from me if you asked."

"If I asked?"

"Yes. Tell me what it is you want from me Loki."

"Why would you make such an offer?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Nobody wants-" Loki pauses, his gaze dropping as if the floor is more interesting to look at than you. "I just wonder how this is advantageous to you in any way."

"Do you think yourself that undeserving?" You frown and his eyes snap up to yours.

"I never said-"

"You don't always have to. Sometimes it's what we don't say that ends up being the loudest." You say. "I'm going to touch you again Loki. This time when it gets too much just- give into that feeling."

"You have no idea what you're signing up for." Loki's eyes are wide.

"I trust you." You whisper and his features melt into a soft grin, as if your words settled something within him. You place your hand on his cheek again, watching his eyes flutter shut as he leans into your touch. The moment stretches for a while until Loki's hands settle on your waist and pull you against him to bring his lips to yours.

The kiss is soft, hesitant, at first- as if he's expecting you to withdraw, but when you drape your arms loosely over his shoulders and deepen the kiss all manner of shyness seems to leave him. The kiss becomes harsher, more desperate, as if he's trying to devour you and give you all he is at once. You match him moment for moment, tongues dancing, hands roaming as you pour everything into that kiss. Loki lifts you and you wrap your legs around him. You pepper his face with sweet kisses as he carries you to one of the couches.

"Are you sure you want to give yourself to me?" Loki asks quietly.

"Are you sure you want to give yourself to me?" You turn the question back to him and he drops to his knees in front of you.

"I have given myself to you a thousand times over, long before now. I belong to you without question." His eyes pierce yours with their intensity as you allow his words to sink in. You almost can't believe he's said it but there's no denying the truth in his voice when he stares at you so earnestly. You clutch his face in your hands, meeting his gaze with equal candor.

"Then you may have me Loki. I am happy to give myself to you." You tell him and he lets out a deep breath. He says something to himself before tugging at the waist of your shorts. You help him take them off of you along with your panties before he speaks again.

"I have wondered for too long how you would taste on my tongue." Loki mutters as he spreads your legs. Before you can fully process the sentence to come up with a response, Loki buries his face at the apex of your thighs. He licks a stripe along your entrance, collecting the evidence of your arousal, letting out a groan as the essence of you floods his tastebuds. You gasp, threading your fingers into his dark hair as his tongue plunges into you, caressing your inner walls, lapping at your juices.

"Oh- oh god." You breathe out, your back arching towards Loki's eager mouth. He groans against you, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure as you squirm against his face. Loki brings his hands up to your thighs, holding you still and open for him as he switches focus, dragging his tongue against your clit in the most delicious way. His movements are sharp, calculated, his eyes on you as he watches what pulls the strongest reactions from you and focuses on those things until your body tenses beneath his hands. Loki pushes two fingers between your walls and curls them as his mouth latches onto your button. The combination is deadly and you can't stop the cry you let out as your orgasm hits you full force. Loki gently works you through it with his fingers and tongue and only when your breathing goes from harsh pants to shuttering draws does he sit back. He makes a point to link his fingers clean when your eyes flutter open.

"Even better than I expected." He says.

"What?" You ask with a breathless chuckle.

"How you taste, the sight of you in pure pleasure, the feel of your skin against mine- all of it, even better than I imagined." Loki punctuates each item on his list with a trail of kisses until he's hovering over you.

"Yes well, how nice to learn that silver tongue of yours is good for more than smart remarks." You smirk and pull him down into a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips and not caring, you simply want to be connected like this forever. Your hands trail down Loki's abdomen, freeing him from his own pants which he shoves the rest of the way off when you can no longer push them yourself. His kisses drop to your neck as he does so.

"You'll have plenty of time to learn all that my silver tongue is good for." He mutters against your skin. You giggle at his words a bit though it's shortlived as Loki chooses that moment to rock his hips into yours and the stretch of his length turns your giggle to a gasp. He takes his time working himself between your walls, allowing you to feel every single inch of him as he pushes deeper and deeper until he eventually bottoms out with a groan. "Stars above you're so- warm." He pants out. He's not moving, you realize, waiting for you to adjust so you tilt your hips forward, grinding against him impatiently.

"Loki please- move." You mewl and that's all it takes. Loki's hips knock back and he drives into you with full force, setting an even pace of deep thrusts meant for you to feel every drag of his dick against your walls.

"This- I'm sure, is Valahala." Loki pants out as he's fucking into you.

"So good- Loki it feels so good." You slip your hands into his shirt, dragging your nails across his back.

"I know my darling. I know." Loki hisses at the sweet sting from your claws. His rhythm doesn't falter as you cling to him, in fact, the feel of your hands against his skin sets Loki alight. You moan breathily, relishing in the way Loki fucks into you almost wildly. The heat of your walls is dizzying and Loki can already feel his release creeping down his spine. He slips a hand between your bodies and finds your clit, rubbing circles against the bundle of nerves. Your back arches as a whimper falls from your lips, the extra stimulation quickly bringing you closer.

"Loki-" You whine.

"Let go for me love. Show me how good I make you feel. Let your release coat my dick." Loki coaxes as his fingers dance along your clit as if he's already worked out all your right buttons to push.

"Oh my g-" You gasp out as your orgasm hits you like a wave crashing.

"Beautiful." Loki breathes. "I could watch you do that a thousand times and never tire of the face you make in ecstasy."

"Your turn now sweetie, show me what face you make in ecstasy Loki." You say gently, one hand threading into his hair. With your encouragement, it doesn't take much more for Loki's hips to stutter as his orgasm means the flooding of your walls in liquid heat.

You both lie still for some time, Loki only half holding himself up to avoid crushing you on the couch. You really can't believe the grumpy god that would straight up disappear if you so much as tapped his shoulder is currently lying in your arms. He can hardly believe it himself, but it's as soothing as he could have hoped. Not that he'd- ever admit that.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #loki #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki smut

813 notes · View notes

dawnbreakersgaze · 2 months

Text

Shut the fuuuuuck up

I've long suspected that Mt Eternal is where the Tower of Thorns rests (or what is left of it anyway) due to several factors- the biggest being how chapter 8 ends with Zayne on Mt Eternal either sealing or clearing (interacting in some way at least) with something frozen or buried in the ice and snow there.

However, last night I was doing some rereading, and this afternoon a very specific thing caught my attention.

That is DEFINITELY the exact same mountain peak. I grew up in the Teton mountain range in the Rockies, my stupid little lizard brain recognizes peak patterns before anything else lol.

Maybe I'm super late to the party and everyone else already knows exactly what it is Zayne is doing here, but this makes me feel like he's finally remembering who he is now, and he's trying to either gain access to the tower (for abilities? A prophecy? The staff?) Or he's bound and determined to not let whatever is in there out again if it's trying to reclaim him.

"Remains shackled to time" is also especially troubling when you consider the vines of thorns and chains that literally bound him, and the verse from his myth:

"Astra gifted one of his eyes to the Foreseer. By walking the winding path of time did the Foreseer understand its passing. This is the power of a god” -Philos: Tome of the Foreseer.

The eye of Astra quite literally shackled him to time. While he was boundless in the sense of existing outside of time, he was more constrained than anyone bound to death.

Idk there is a lot to dissect but I need time to piece it all together. I just needed to get this out before I imploded.

#kay's mumbles #love and deepspace #love & deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne #li shen #lads #l&ds #love and deep space #love and deepspace zayne #my brain is mush from lack of sleep but i have so many theories now #I'll rewrite this when i recover from being how i am rn

246 notes · View notes

genericpuff · 1 year

Text

LORE | REKINDLED - MASTER POST (READ BELOW!)

LORE | REKINDLED is a transformative project dedicated to the S1/Pilot era of Rachel Smythe's Lore Olympus. Rekindled will attempt to re-interpret and reconstruct the foundations laid by Rachel Smythe in S1 of Lore Olympus' publication, while also remaining true to the themes and messages of the original myths upon which Lore Olympus is based.

We hope you enjoy this re-interpretation of The Hymn to Demeter - also known as The Rape of Persephone - expressed through the lens of a meta re-interpretation of Lore Olympus. Made by the fans, for the fans.

Disclaimer: This is a non-profit transformative fan project drawn and written by @genericpuff. All brushes, textures, and font packs used to replicate Lore Olympus' art and style are sourced legally, and panel art is created from the ground up. All Lore Olympus-relevant character designs and branding belong to Rachel Smythe. All interpretations of Greek characters, mythologies, and themes are purely fictional and should not be used in any factual sourcing when researching Ancient Greek material.

Now available to read on Dillyhub!

EPISODE LIST

(check back to this pinned for updates to the episode list!)

#lore rekindled comic #lore rekindled #lore olympus au #anti lore olympus

3K notes · View notes

big-tiddy-bi · 1 year

Text

Without ao3 I became inspired. Ok so being tired of the justice league not helping/believing brakes into the tower while a meeting is taking place to show one of the heroes what is happening I.E. you failed and don’t come here we don’t want you, we don’t need you. You come here and you will be treated as a super villain and dealt with as such.

—————

Danny was sick, tired and powerful. A dangerous combination for most peoples. Myths and legends written throughout every religion every people every and every world based on gods feeling those exact things, and that is the thing Danny closest too, not ghost, not human, but a god. Even if he does not himself as such.

Today was the justice league’s last chance, Walker had decided to change up his tactics. Instead of going after Danny directly he was going to play dirty. Imprisoning 300 living for ”harboring a fugitive”. The justice league was called, one last chance before thing got out of hand. 300 people held captive in another dimension should be a priority for a group called the justice league.

Their response “the justice league contact system should only be used for emergencies, pranks will not be tolerated”. a simple response. directed and to the point. A metaphorical death sentence for the justice league and the people of amity’s faith in them.

No one died, thank the ancients, but blood was spilled. Red and green fell to the floor like water from the large cuts on Danny’s arms and the side of his torso, he was mostly fine, a couple stitches, about a gallon of filtered ectoplasm and a trip to the nasty burger had fixed him up. Meaning that every time he tried to move his arms he felt like he was being stabbed and he could not breathe without pain, which in all fairness was kind of normal for him, it sucked but it was normal.

The real problem was the 300 people I’m the hospital, ecto contamination, not to the extent of being fatal but extremely painful. That could have been avoided if Danny had more help than just his team of 4 other teenage vigilantes and his adult sister.

So after that fiasco Danny did something, else, something more political, he mad deals. With permission from the most important people in town the ones who keeps everything running, IE Mr lancer and Jazz. He also got permission from the mayor, bribed with Danny going to a Green Bay packers game with him.

Johnny 13 and kitty could joy ride before 12 am and after 9am as long as property damage stays at a minimum, a couple smashed mailboxes, broken windows and spray painted cars/buildings paid for by the mayors office was better than bad luck to the entire town and people disappearing.

Skulked got to hunt Danny in a building made for that purpose, Spector-cameras installed in it so people could stream it live to “witness the greatest hunter of the ghost zone”.

Ember got to play her music and travel on tour as she pleased as long as she didn’t mind control people.

Some wouldn’t take the deals but most of the heavy hitters did, it calmed down a lot, but as they say it the calm before the storm.

With the viewers of the “ghost battles” (it was basically a game of extreme tag) and embers fans talking, the ghost situation became a known thing

And again the justice league responded. “we will be there in a month”

No apologies for not believing them no apologies for not helping, just a we are on our way 8 months after the incident and they were going to be there 9 months after. All the people where health again, Walker was punished, locked in his haunt for the next 100 years. The justice league has nothing to do. They have no point in coming to amity. Where they just going to show up, say “sorry for not helping you, welp peace” and then just leave.

Maybe that was the point, that though crossed Danny’s mind as he read the message out loud to his team. They didn’t have any to do, a vanity project, help the small community that they abandoned so that the people don’t go blabbing to the papers, a pr move.

Sam and Valerie had voiced the same opinions on what the justice league was doing. The rest of the team agreed after a short conversation.

This led to Tucker hacking the league computer system to find the next meeting date and we’re it would be held. “Unhackabal my ass” and a plan was made.

So here he is, invisible, intangible and floating above the justice league. Batman walked up to the podium and began to present.

“8 and a half months ago the league got a report of 300 people being kidnapped and sent to the ghost dimension, this was believed to be a prank and filled as such, we were wrong” he said while clicking through slides, some of medical reports of the victims, some of the photos taken of him helping people out of the portal next to the hospital he mad to help the victims faster. Then he said “ this is the city’s resident hero team” the next slide showing the picture of Danny, Sam , Wes, Valerie, tucker and jazz receiving the key to the city.

“We one know of this misstep because of videos posted online of phantom pictured here” he pointed an Danny receiving the key, another picture of him helping a man to the hospital appeared “and here”

“Do we know who trained them they don’t look older than sixteen” Wonder Woman asked. Before batman could answer Danny revealed himself, though he made his skin slightly translucent to show his bones, it was all part of the plan.

He floated down to the floor and looked directly at her “we trained ourselves”

He turned to face the whole room. “ I am not here to fight you” he said as a couple of hero quickly moved from their seats. “ I came to warn you”

He took in a breath “ I came to warn you, stay out of amity and stay in your lane.” He put a small amount of his ghostly wale into his voice, just enough to shake up their hearts. “ we don’t need you. We don’t WANT you” he cold the room slowly a couple degrees a word. “ do not ask around for us ghosts, do not look for us, if you find one of us. RUN.” He dropped his voice louder as emphasis. “ if you find one of us causing trouble, send us a message, but otherwise don’t acknowledge us or amity, the dead have nothing to give to you” his eyes became fussy staring at nothing green tears fell out of his eyes,and his Lichtenberg scars began to glow Ice blue, but his voice did not waver,.“ you may not have killed us yourself but you signed our death warrant long ago, you have ignored us far to long” is voice soften at the last word.

Then his eyes turns red, as fast as he could he pulled Superman out of his chair and pushed him to the wall. Danny’s hand went intangible as he pushed in into Superman’s chest. His hand wrapped around Superman’s heart, Danny soften the intangibility so Superman could fell the hand but not get hurt. “I can rip your heart out without a single fight” his skin became entirely invisible to show his skeleton. “To all of amity” Superman’s breathing quickened “to me” he move close to Superman’s ear “you are villains, and will be treated as such” he dropped Superman to the floor.

“Stay in your domain and I’ll stay in mine” ice began to form at his feet, looking mor like crystals than ice. “Come to us with please of forgiveness is as pointless as asking of it from your god” ectoplasm dripped from his mouth onto the floor. “Do not come to amity” and with that he went invisible again and watched the room in amusement. He was kinda freaking out at how awesome he sounded.

A couple minutes of silence followed. As John Constantine entered the room, “what did I miss?”

———————-

Hope y’all like it <3 Sorry for spelling mistakes. I don’t think this need trigger warnings but if you think so please comment so I can add them. I started writing this and I couldn’t stop. If only I had that energy for the original story’s I want to write lol Have a nice day/night and drink some liquids that aren’t caffeinated and/or poisonous <3

#danny fenton #danny phantom #sorry for spelling mistakes #fanfic #fanfic ideas #dc x dp #dp x dc #justice league #Eldridge Danny phantom

2K notes · View notes

coffeeandkhun · 10 months

Text

About Bam's & Yuri's 1st meeting

It occurred to me just the other day that Bam's and Yuri's first meeting is actually similar to the myth of Theseus and the Minotaur.

How so? For some background, Theseus was a hero who slay the infamous monster Minotaur. Minotaur was kept imprisoned in an underground labyrinth, built by the great inventor Daedalus. The order of king Minos (Minotaur's foster-father) was, that every 9 years, 7 young Athenian men and women were sacrificed to the Minotaur.

One year, Theseus voluntarily joined the sacrificial party. Princess Ariadne fell in love with him and decided to help him to slay the Minotaur. She provided him a ball of thread to get out of the labyrinth, and a sword - thus betraying her father, the king.

Princess Yuri, on the other hand, took a liking to Bam and decided to help him to take the Headon's test. She provided him a pocket ("a ball") and her Black March - thus betraying her "father", the king.

(From webtoon S1 ep. 2)

And the Minotaur has a real name, too, that is Asterion or Asterius (literally "starry"). So Hmm.

However, I wouldn't make too many conclusions based on this, as I don't believe SIU meant just to replicate the myths - this would be quite boring, too, to be honest. So I don't think, for example, that Bam's character is meant to mirror Theseus in the larger picture.

I only think it's an interesting detail, especially because it is also related to the myth of Icarus - the inventor Daedalus is also father of Icarus. According to some versions of the myth, he also helped the princess, and that's why he and his son were imprisoned.

#tower of god #the 25th bam #ha yuri zahard #tower of god myths

9 notes · View notes

thegnomelord · 4 months

Note

Shark

- 🦈

(WOBSVHDVUH. HOLY MOTHER OF SHARKS. HOW DO YOU WRITE SO GOOD. Gosh you, darn you, daum you. Fuel my god daum brainrot.

Now im thinkin of angst. DONT WRITE IT, I CANNOT HANDLE YOUR WRITING IN ANGST. THIS IS JUST A BRAIN BLURB.

Price is close to death whether it be the ultimte battle between the destruction of all that can die or of a horrid enemy, they have yet to defeat.

Price is alive, but too far to be ever saved. The boys want to summon their captain's ole friend, to say a well had goodbye, maybe even save him. But no books, no scrolls, nor anything etched in stone on the surface depicts them. Nothing.

Price dies knowing hes lived a good life, praying to all the gods that his beloved eldritch dosent destroy the surface he called home.

The only way the poor eldritch finds out, are when Prices ashes are swallowed by the waves.

In every storm, waves tower over the heights of skyscraper, to the point not even those that could fly can cross. Death is quick when it comes to the ocean, like it trying to collect all power it can withhold. Creatures are cruel when it comes to what has killed their gods beloved, relentlessly acttacting what they can. Sharks are rare, to the point their sighting have come near myth or legend. Yet, they will always come come towards any that is draconic for they miss them. Ocean creatures, humanoid or not, would cry with no control, close to fire, dragons or smoke. They grieve. They all grieve.

But, Dragons seem to live longer when close to the waves. Saving them in dire situations when the fall from they sky, wounds healed when submerged in the salty sea. Even if you were pure fire, absolute whole magma. You'd be saftely cradled in any and all water. Water is the safest, the safest they have ever felt in all of their exsistence. They know this feeling, it is old, it is familiar, it is embedded in blood.

For the ocean rembers, it always remembers.)

Okay honestly your brain farts are always so good but. . . But . . . I'm so sorry sharky. This came to before you even wrote your ask and now I have to do it, you're just the sacrificial goat. . .

CW: SFW, angst, made myself cry :/ Got some idea inspo from @heliumknife

John Price doesn't die on a notable day. He doesn't die on the day of reckoning, doesn't die on the day fire rains from the sky and blood muddles your oceans, doesn't die alongside human gods, doesn't die on the day he may meet what made him and hear he was a good man.

John Price dies on a regular Tuesday night.

Not even a blip on the radar.

Having saved the oblivious world yet again he retches a bloodied cough as he stumbles on the beach he'd ended up on. His legs give out, the course sand rubbing his skin when he falls, red blood slowly seeping between the grains. Distantly he can hear his boys calling for him, watching the waves wash onto the shore, the tide too low to reach him; too low for you to sense him.

He can feel Gaz scrambling to stem his bleeding, Soap desperately searching through the first aid kit, Ghost barking on the coms that Price is hit. And as the world begins to grow quiet, the low murmur of waves washing upon the sand filling his ears, washed up amber glittering in his blurring eyes, the scent of seaweed and brine filling his rapidly slowing lungs—

Price smiles — he'll slumber with you soon.

Only when the morning tide comes in do you sense his blood, do you rouse from the depths like lightning, waking from a nightmare to find it has followed you to the waking world.

You're too late.

Like always.

He's so still.

Peaceful — worry lines and wrinkles smoothed out and face relaxed you could delude yourself into thinking he's just sleeping. Oh those dragons with their slumber; he'll grumble when you go to wake him, demanding five more bloody minutes of your attention as if he's the god here. Cling to you like a barnacle and growling like a kitten until you give in and lay down next to him. Give a rumbling purr and laugh at how he got a god wrapped around his finger until you shut him up with a kiss.

But you can't.

Your vessel's eyes keep darting to the blood staining his clothes, the crusted red lines trailing from his lip down his chin, the stillness of his chest, the silence.

They tell you John Price died protecting his team from a brutal foe. John Price died protecting the world. John Price died protecting the very people who in your recent shared memory had been happy to sharpen sticks and melt rock into to steel all in an vain attempt at glory. . .

John Price died a hero.

Your John died.

And you weren't there.

"Hey. . ." You look at Gaz when he speaks, standing on the opposite side of the medical table they've laid his body on. ". . .I know you two were, close." He chokes up, voice rough and nasally, fresh tear tracks staining his cheeks.

You envy him for it. For once you wish you were the ant on a circuit board instead of it's maker, just so you could see the world like they do, mourn like they do — open, visible, showing you cared, showing he wasn't just a toy in your sandbox. That Price was the voice you'd hear when loosening the noose of the rope, the beckoning call beyond the reach of your waves, the one that held that wretched excuse you call a heart.

But you can't.

All your treacherous vessel manages to achieve is a small dip in the corner of your lip. "So were you." Your voice is low and garbled like you're drowning, the rumble of icebergs scraping on the ocean floor filling the silence behind each syllable.

Gaz flinches like he'd been slapped, unable to look at the man he loved as much as you did. "Yeah," His gaze flickers everywhere like fleeing fishes in a reef, "I'm sorry." He blurts out.

"Don't be." You don't look at him, your cold hand reaching out to trace Price's jaw, coarse beard scratching your flesh. "You loved him when I couldn't." A part of you wants to be angry at Gaz for harboring John's affection and attention, that it's not fair for him to be able to mourn when you've known your John long before Athenians and Spartans decided to throw hissy fits in your waters. But you can't call yourself a lover he deserved when you met him so rarely, a blink of the eye for you and a century passes.

"Are you going to kill us now?" Kyle asks, not scared, as if he's expecting it.

It shames you, but you thought about it; of sea life growing gigantic and voracious under your influence, of making the sky weep in your stead, of violent waves rising up and devouring the planet for taking away your world. What's the point of it's existence when the one who made it shine has been snuffed out?

"No," You sigh in resignation. You can't, not while there are still people and places John loved, not while vestiges of him remain. You can't kill what's left of him, protect them like you couldn't do with him.

Gaz tells you they plan to cremate him in line with dragon customs, only to take a step back when you pick your John up to cradle in your arms, his loose wing draping over your shoulder, his head resting on your shoulder, nose buried in your neck as if he's scenting you once again.

"I'll come to collect the rest of you when you pass." You say before disappearing with Price, because if you had to answer Gaz's questions — Why are you taking his body when you weren't even there when he died? Why do you act like you care when you saw him so rarely? Why are you taking him away from Gaz when he was the one who loved Price? What gives you the right? — you would have drowned a country.

Water rushes around him the moment you are back in your element, holding him in a cradle made of your waters like the first time he'd fallen into the ocean so many millennia ago. Water bubbles escape his open mouth as your waves caress and kiss each inch of him, crusted blood muddling the brine around him as you pull him as close to your real body as you can.

Searching.

You can feel his soul once your waters have kissed every inch of his skin, faint yet stubbornly clinging on somewhere in the aether, no doubt giving Death a headache.

You were once a soul too were you not? Just a dead thing too dumb to know it died; somewhere deep beneath the individual writhing sharks and decaying corpses and fossilized bone making up your body resides your original one, nothing but a chunk of rock with the imprint of what you had as a skeleton at the time.

For if Death doesn't come to claim it, a soul won't die until the body's gone. You had slipped past the cracks, grew fat and large on the other souls until Death could no longer touch you without fear of being swallowed whole.

You doubt it would let Price slip through like it had with you, fortunately you put claim on his soul long ago. You swim to the deepest part of the earth where burning geothermal vents spew minerals into freezing cold waters, where you slumber and feed on the souls of the dead.

You curl around him, living and dead bodies parting until Price rests wrapped around the oldest part of you.

Embracing you like he always wanted to.

He waited so long for you.

Now it's your turn to wait. This time you will be there.

And if the oceans above rage for months, if the season long rain floods the streets, if the weather makes it so that in the crushing depths no one can pick out your tears from the ocean brine, all the better.

#gnome correspondence #cod mw2 #x reader #male reader #trinkets from the hoard #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #price x gaz #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #eldritch reader #angst #immortal x mortal #john price cod #cod monster au #monster 141 au

250 notes · View notes

floweroflaurelin · 11 months

Text

So Pixlriffs’ finale is a masterpiece and I’m experiencing a lot of emotions right now ✨🌻✨

For my own reference I made a transcript of the monologue and thought I might as well share it! It's under the cut to avoid spoilers but the whole first 8ish minutes of his video are typed out. I recommend watching at least that much, if you haven’t yet, because it’s really something worth hearing.

We are not done.

Not yet.

Our stories do not begin here, and neither do they end. But before they fade into obscurity, as so many events do, there is one more story left to be told.

[It is the Story

the World.]

It’s important to remind ourselves that history is an account of events remembered—and there are so few left who remember, so it mingles with myth and hearsay, folklore and fireside stories. This is the account of just one man, and others may recall the tale differently. Others still may decide to change the narrative to suit their own ends. And this, it must be said, is no bad thing. So it goes.

[Sun setting

over

our Creation.]

—

In a long-lost age before records truly began, our world was built by Titans (or so it is said). The lands they created became home to people who would seek to emulate and even to surpass that act of creation, and that would eventually bring about their destruction. But destruction is simply part of a cycle. Nothing is ever truly lost.

Those who foresaw the destruction fled before it could bring the walls of their homes down around them. And many who had been downtrodden and overlooked saw it as their chance to find a new life for themselves.

Thus began a great migration, leaving behind the old nations of the world and striking out for somewhere new, a life untethered from the follies of their former state. And though the road was long and treacherous, and many fell behind in the wake of such an awful endeavour, new bonds were forged in the fires of adversity.

As time passed, and more joined the great caravan, the host became a nation of its own, a glorious congregation sharing one purpose, singing the same resolute song. Though the road was long, they were homeward bound.

And a home they found nestled in a mountainous landscape, one that might have been carved by the very bones of the gods themselves. There they planted roots, drank deep from the water, and continued to grow. The farmers sowed new fields and raised new flocks. The work of many hands turned to building a new city. And together the architects conceived a castle upon a great plateau that would stand as a monument to their past apart and their future together. To them, the castle itself would tell the Story of the World.

Stone-whisperers from Mythland and the Grimlands, well-versed in masonry of all kinds, sculpted its walls from the abundant rock of the nearby mountains quarried for the glory of their new capital. They wrought rock and iron, carved and timbered their great halls, and raised mighty towers to stand atop the grand cliff.

The mages of the Crystal Cliffs brought knowledge of magic and the beauty of gemstones, and theirs was the sanctum at the heart of the castle, ever-seated at the Ruler’s left hand: their shield and protector.

A tribute was raised to Gilded Helianthia, whose ruler was still revered in the hearts and minds of many, and in time she became their warden against the spectres of the past, carrying the twin burdens of light and shadow on her shoulders; a burden with which the people of Rivendell were all too familiar.

And below, far below, the engineers of Pixandria sought to reproduce the jewel of their empire. A mechanism that would surpass the work of the Copper King himself.

Not all who came to found the Ancient Capital remained for long. Like dandelion seeds, the people of the Overgrown were scattered on the wind, alighting on the mountaintops and valleys. The vast majority of them came to settle in the rolling meadows of Chromia, which was renowned for the richness and beauty of its dyes for lifetimes after.

In the absence of their king, the nation of Mezelea resettled in new badlands, establishing laws and ordinances of their own. Many of them had been armour stands before the king imbued them with life, and some found this a hard habit to shake.

The people of the Cod and Ocean empires, bereft of the waters that gave them life, took to diving in the rocky pools of vast caverns and their affinity for stone grew. Over many generations they adapted, becoming the green-skinned race that folk came to know as goblins—their pointed ears the only remaining vestige of the fins they had once had.

For the gnomes of the Undergrove, this was a homecoming! They had long dwelled here before their exodus through the Nether and the fairy circles of the Evermoore welcomed them with open arms.

And the villagers of the Lost Empire, hiding in plain sight amongst the caravan of peoples, sought to find a place where they would be unburdened by this facade of humanity, standing at last on their own two feet.

But the boundaries of this land were ever-changing, and the nations soon found the cataclysm they had left behind had weakened the walls between their world and others. Waters rose and fell unpredictably; incursions from other realms were possible, bringing chaos in their wake. The tide of history churned and rippled.

None now remember how the Capital fell, only that its remains have lasted: an epitaph to all they had achieved together.

And just like before, new nations would arise. The pirates of Eversea ruled the waters from their secret cove. The inventors of Cogsmeade arrived sailing in from the air on their skyships—only to find whole buildings floating in the golden kingdom of Stratos. Rumours abounded of a Sanctuary hidden in the deepest jungle for those who knew the way.

Their tales are better told by those who knew them well. Our stories do not begin here, and neither do they end. But for this tired historian, it is perhaps best to leave these things in the past and begin to look towards the future.

For whatever comes next, we who have sown the seeds can only hope for a bountiful harvest.

#empires smp #pixlriffs #empires spoilers #empiresblr #empires s2 #empires pixlriffs #transcript #CHILLS. ACTUAL CHILLS.#this set fireworks off my brain btw. I want to make all the things right now #im busy at the moment but I will make things! I will! I must!

460 notes · View notes

enbaluka · 7 months

Text

Just finished playing Chants of Sennaar, I like how in the end it's revealed that the words for "God", "duty", "beauty", "change", and "exile" in the tower's five languages are all revealed to be cognates in the ending (these are the most important words for each group: the Devotees, Warriors, Bards, Alchemists, and whatever the group at the top is called (the alchemists call them fairies in the context of the founding myths, but they just call themselves "our people"))

#chants of sennaar #spoilers

225 notes · View notes

exactlycleverpirate · 3 months

Text

Half Baked Theories

So here are my half-baked theories upon reading all of the Love and Deepspace myths, anecdotes, etc.

So, Rafayel found MC isolated on an island for some reason or other, surrounded by the ocean and doomed to one day be drowned by the sea. They fell in love, and he gave her his heart, quite literally (somehow), though he remains connected to it through their bond. Because Lemurian's blood is eternal, and she is now bound to one, and the God of the Sea at that, she is now eternal. Sort of. But not undying. Neither are the Lemurians undying, as we see they can be killed. (I suspect this all takes place on Earth before it's destruction, since Philos is described as separate tectonic plates held together by its core, making me think the oceans have disappeared (drained into space perhaps?)).

By the time we meet MC in the current timeline, she is already bound to Rafayel in some fashion or other. Does that mean she already has his heart? She also has an Aethor protocore implanted into her heart via scientific experimentation. Perhaps Rafayel gives her his heart later in some effort to save her from something due to the Aethor core? Maybe this results in a resonance link of some sort, between the eternal Lemurian heart of the God of the Sea and the Aethor protocore. In Xavier’s Myth, we learn that protocores used to have hearts inside them. (MC's Evol also pertains to Resonance.)

(Also, what is frozen in ice on Mount Eternal? Possibly another Aethor Core?)

So now flash forward to Philos. In Zayne's Myth, we learn that MC's heart is connected to the Creatio protocore. Due to the resonance of the Creatio and her heart, it drains her heart to power itself. It also can heal her heart when fused with it (at least temporarily?). When she meets Xavier on a young Philos, she already knows her heart is dying and that there is a particular protocore that can somehow heal her. (How does she know of this rare protocore? Who told her?)

Perhaps the Creatio protocore used to be the Aethor core fused to the God of the Sea’s heart. Then somehow, with Earth’s destruction, the heart and the Creatio are separated, but still linked by resonance. This begins the endless cycle of draining the Sea God's heart to power the Creatio, which kills MC, but because the heart is that of an eternal Lemurian, she reincarnates, to repeat the process again and again. (Is the Creatio the core of the planet that keeps Philos' people immortal, or is her heart linked to the core, perhaps by fusing it with the Creatio, at a later point when the original power of the core is drained away?)

In this first life on Philos, Xavier brings her the Creatio, but it is too late to save her (or he doesn't know how to use it) and she dies.

Perhaps as a result of the Creatio being forcefully taken once, (who did Xavier have to fight to retrieve it from?) the Creatio is placed under the watch of the Foreseer in the Tower of Thorns, by the mysterious "god" Astra. MC is reincarted over and over, drawn to the Creatio and Foreseer over and over, she dies over and over, and his memories are erased each time, until finally Zayne breaks free and sacrifices himself to save MC, fusing her heart and the Creatio and saving her life. Zayne falls into eternal slumber, trapped in the frozen tower, behind a never ending blizzard.

Presumably, this is a temporary fix somehow or other, and she dies again eventually, or is killed.

Meanwhile, multiple Gods of the the Sea have lived over time. (Are these all reincarnations of Rafayel or are there other Sea Gods as well?) Eventually, MC is reincarnated in the Golden Sands. By this point, somehow the people of Philos have come to understand that her heart keeps them immortal. Philos is at least 30,000 years old by this point, as its seas have been dry for 30,000 years. The people of Philos have placed MC under guard in a palace. Her heart is not noticeably dying now, perhaps because Zayne reunited it with the Creatio.

She and Rafayel reunite, and she eventually remembers their history. She also learns that if she does not return the Sea God's heart to Rafayel (by cutting it out of her chest and dying), he will eventually fall into eternal slumber and the seas will never be restored. Rafayel attempts to save her by erasing her memories and severing the bond between them, leaving the heart with her. However, MC is able to recover both her memories and the bond. She and Rafayel escape together in search of a solution.

(At this point, we don't know how this ends. Does Rafayel fall into eternal slumber? Does MC kill herself in an effort to save him, or does his servant kill her to try to save Rafayel and restore the sea? Perhaps Rafayel, like Xavier, finds a way to go back in time? No idea.)

Once more, we assume MC dies again at some point. She is eventually reincarnated at a time when Philos is beginning to die. She and Xavier attend an Academy together. Xavier learns that Starfall Forest contains (or is connected to?) the core of the planet, which now requires human lives to stay powered. It consumes humans, which become Wanderers who contain a protocore that used to contain their heart. The royal family started out sending human sacrifices into the forest, but eventually figured out MC could be the endless sacrifice to power the core.

(When did they discover this? Presumably the royal family has been alive since the creation of Philos, since Xavier has been around since its very early years, and he is the Crown Prince. The royal family sent regular emissaries to the Foreseer for prophecies from Astra. The royal family also is mentioned in Rafayel's myth, when MC clarifies that she is not actually related to the royal family. So how long have they known about MC and when did they begin intentionally sacrificing her to power the heart? Is this how she dies even though both Zayne and Rafayel sacrifice themselves to save her? There are no Wanderers in Zayne or Rafayel's myths. Did they not exist yet? They exist on Earth, but perhaps that is due to them traveling through spacetime with Xavier’s timejump.)

The MC at the end of Xavier’s Myth has no current obvious problem with her heart, though Xavier seems fearful of one. But if she is no longer dying to power the core, then surly that means the core will begin to die, and the planet and people of Philos with it. Xavier and a team leave MC as Queen of Philos, and they travel back in time in an effort to find a way to stop the planet and MC from dying. However, something goes wrong, and they crash. The Deepspace Tunnel opens up over Linkon, and through it, the dead planet of Philos can be seen.

Please give me your thoughts, peeps. I am desperate the talk lore with someone.

#love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #rafayel #xavier #zayne

63 notes · View notes